05: A Little Sinner in a Holy Place

There was only a dim glow illuminating the room when the quiet sounds of movement woke me. I rolled over, burying my face in my pillow hoping to drift back to my fleeting dream, when someone leaned over me, softly trailing kisses down my neck. As my attention was pulled away from sleep by the delicious sensations, I turned to see who it was and felt soft lips press against my own.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” Shani enthused. When I cracked one eye open to glance up, I saw her face was smiling in the early morning light. “Are you going to sleep the entire day away?” she asked in a bright and chipper voice.

The events of the previous night slowly came back to me. I had spent the previous evening bemoaning how my life had suddenly become so complicated, and I again started to feel overwhelmed. Without forewarning, I now had a near stranger who wanted to dedicate her future to me, and the fact that I was now somehow responsible for her was intimidating. I was still a young man, finishing an uneventful high school experience and just preparing to enter University life. The last thing I needed was an unexpected responsibility just when I was looking forward to a carefree existence of boobs, booze and drugs.

“Good morning,” I grumbled, my voice still groggy from sleep as I attempted to project a more pleasant persona than I felt. “If someone woke me like that every morning, I probably wouldn’t be as late for school as I usually am,” I added, masking my unease with a smile as I briefly kissed her back.

“Yeah,” my sister cackled from across the room as she flicked on a bedside lamp. “I can see Mom doing that every morning.”

“Oh yuck, oh yuck,” I retorted. “Just go putting thoughts like that in my head when I wake up in such a good mood, why don’t you?” Thoughts of my mother kissing me awake, each of us under dressed in nighttime attire, filled me with dread.

“Yeah stud,” teased Shani, “we can both see what a good mood you’re in this morning.” I looked down and saw that I’d awoken, twisted up in my sheets, leaving my nether regions exposed. I blushed furiously and struggled for several moments trying to untangle my sheets in order to cover myself, all to no avail, so I finally just surrendered and sat up.

At this point both girls were openly laughing at me. Well, giggling actually. They were enjoying my reaction, not taking pleasure in my discomfort, I guess.

My sister and I liked to tease, but I knew I could always trust her to look out for me; especially given her renewed promise last night. I also knew that however nervous I might feel about Shani’s influence on my life, that she really only wanted the best for me.

“Does your brother usually wake up like that?” Shaniqua leered at the tangle of sheets tented at my mid-section, which she found quite entertaining.

“Hell yeah,” Cate replied. “Why do you think I always check that he’s up? Mom just yells upstairs. It’s my responsibility to make sure he gets up and stays up.” Cate refused to let my torment lapse. I didn’t think I’d ever stop blushing. My sister was clearly teasing. She’d never caught me in inappropriate attire and rarely came in to check on me. That was something that I took pride in, self-sufficiency.

The girls went about starting their day. Man, two girls in the morning are much worse than just one. Usually I just have to beat my sister into the bathroom when getting ready for school, but today the two girls managed to monopolize it. They didn’t even care if I was using the facilities, something my sister is normally very careful of, but apparently she was emboldened by Shani’s cavalier attitude because she didn’t let it bother her in the least.

“Hey, you mind?” I protested when Cate wandered past as I sat completely exposed on the toilet.

“Nope,” she teased as she leaned forward and peered at herself in the mirror—forcing me to glance away as the back of her sleep tee rode up and exposed a good bit of her panty-clad backside, mere inches from my face. “Though it’d be more interesting if you weren’t hiding all the good bits,” she tossed over her shoulder.

Somehow I managed to maintain my composure, though I was being horribly abused and could hardly stop blushing. Luckily, my parents soon rescued me—sort of.

“Good morning all. Any psychic grandbabies on the way yet?” teased my mother, smiling gaily as I let her into the room. I’m not sure I’ve seen her quite this happy and relaxed in a long time. It was disconcerting to consider that the very things that so terrified me made her feel so good, especially when you consider all the extremely weird circumstances surrounding recent events.

“Morning kids,” welcomed my father, trying desperately to change the topic regarding his precious children creating progeny in the next room. “Any plans for the day yet?”

“I was thinking I’d take y’all to a good ol’ fashioned Orleans’ Baptist church this morning,” Shani offered, her voice happy despite my parents’ teasing about what they assumed we’d been doing last night. “I thought you’d appreciate some authentic cultural appreciation on a nice Sunday morning.” It sounded like she was really trying to win over my parents.

“Sounds great!” My mother replied. “Is it your church?”

“Oh no,” Shani stated, surprised by the question. “Like most Jamaicans, I’m Episcopalian. The Baptist church is just a tourist thing so you can see how all the American blacks sing out loud and proud on Sunday.”

“Episcopalian?” echoed our father, digging for yet more information. “Any reason why that denomination?”

“Duh, Frank,” Mom chided him. “She just said it’s the basic church in Jamaica.”

Dad blushed but continued on anyway. “Yeah, I heard that part, but I meant why do you remain in that church? And why not just take us there instead?”

“Well, personally I’m just comfortable there, but it is fairly odd,” she explained. “It’s one of the oldest of the Protestant denominations, and although it’s one of the most conservative it’s also one of the most liberal. One faction wants to merge back with the Catholic Church—the only concession being that the Episcopalian priests can marry. Another faction wants to allow gay marriage and have both gay and women priests. And there’s a third that remains fiercely conservative, bordering on fundamentalist.” She shrugged as it were no big deal. “I’ll admit, it’s kind of a schizophrenic denomination.”

“That doesn’t really speak to why you like it,” my father reminded her.

My mother sighed loudly before turning to Shani to translate. “He’s asking you if you’re religious and what your religious beliefs are,” she explained. “Honestly Frank, if you’re going to grill someone, at least have the decency to ask them what you want to know.” We all chuckled at his expense and I felt a little better knowing I wasn’t the only one being picked on this morning. I think Mom had definitely softened as far as Shani was concerned. But then I suddenly realized; if Mom was this accepting of Shani she’d likely throw a fit when I explained that I didn’t want to remain in contact with her. I supposed I’d have to take her aside fairly soon and discuss the issue with her. Only getting time alone to discuss things was getting to be a harder feat to accomplish, what with more people around me all the time.

“Oh, I’m pretty religious,” Shani replied, “but I’m not real strict or anything. I try to be a good person, but I’m not going to reject someone because they don’t agree with me.” She flashed him a crooked smile and added, “Clearly I don’t object to premarital sex and birth control.” Her smile vanished and she paled the second she realized what she’d just said.

“Oh, no,” she gasped briefly as she waved her hands. “Wait! That’s not what I meant. What I meant was—”

“We know exactly what you meant, dear,” my mother patiently and calmly told her, patting her on the arm. “Don’t be afraid of your beliefs, especially moderate beliefs. It seems nowadays that the only beliefs that are allowed are extremist views, either on the left or the right. Part of life is getting by and being at peace, you can’t very well be at peace if you’re trying to fight the entire world.”

“So why the Baptist church instead of your own?” my father asked once again.

Shani shrugged once more. “It’s what I’ve found most visitors expect. Actually most of the city is Catholic so most churches in the French Quarter are as well, but the Baptists are much more fun. It’s pretty equivalent to watching a funeral march in the street. Everyone dresses up, there is lots of loud singing and dancing, just no jazz band leading the way. The Catholic churches in the area provide their own bands and even do the occasional funeral march, but being Catholic, they’re pretty reserved in their services,” she explained with a smile.

“So who’s coming with us?” my father asked the room in general.

“Coming with us?” I asked stupidly, however everyone else seemed to be prepared.

“Natalie told me she was interested in going wherever we chose to go,” Mom stated, not specifying whether she meant to church or any activities in general.

“Patricia said that she and Henry would like to spend more time with us,” Shani contributed.

“Yeah, I can see Henry wanting to spend more time with Alex,” Cate scoffed. I could tell that Cate took an instant disliking to Henry because he didn’t like me much. She was always pretty protective of her older brother. I’m not sure what I’d ever done to deserve it, but she was always quick to help me out in any way that she could.

“Be nice Cate,” Mom scolded her. “This isn’t easy for him either.”

“After all, it’s Sunday,” Dad echoed, even though I knew he wasn’t shy about speaking ill of people he didn’t like, he just didn’t think you should speak ill of people just before walking into church.

“OK, let’s start calling everyone and get this party organized. I assume we need to dress up for this?” Mom asked.

“Oh yes, very,” Shani insisted. “In fact, you’re likely to see the biggest collection of hats you’ve seen in some time. I know big hats aren’t much in fashion in most churches, but for black American women it’s all the rage.”

“Oh good, it’s been ages since I’ve known anyone to get fancied up for church,” Mom stated. Cate and Shani already had their phones out and were busy making calls.

“Before everyone starts calling, let me see if I can contact Patricia. I figure that’ll be more likely to convince Henry than anything else I can say. What’s the address and name of that church?” I asked the girls. Shani, who was in the process of calling her, held up and told me the name.

“That’s a great idea Alex,” Cate told me excitedly. “It’s about time you started experimenting with these new abilities. There are just so many things we could be checking.”

“Now Cate, let’s not get carried away,” I told her firmly. “Just let me figure things out on my own. I’m a bit nervous about experimenting with something I don’t understand,” I told her. She frowned, but she’d get over it. I hated to constrain her curiosity since she’d been so helpful so far, but there’s a time and a place for everything. Right now it was time for me to try speaking with Patricia.

Thinking carefully I thought, ‘Patricia?‘ but couldn’t tell if it was effective or not. Thinking about what Cate had said about the emotional content of telepathic messages, I figured a weak-willed question wouldn’t have much of an effect so I forcefully thought the name and address, then added the thought, ‘wear a hat‘. Once again, I was left without a clear indication that the message had gotten through.

When I looked up I saw that everyone was looking at me.

“Did you get through?” Cate asked.

“It’s hard to tell,” I tried to explain. “I usually don’t get clear messages or distinct answers; it’s mostly just vague impressions.”

“Except when he gets mad,” Shani quipped. We all looked at her so she continued. “When he gets annoyed, his words resound in your head like the voice of God in a small temple. It kind of echoes around in there.”

“See, I told you,” Cate insisted. “Er, sorry, I meant that my theory was correct.” Having been ‘scolded’ by our mother and cautioned by me she tried not to gloat, but she couldn’t let the opportunity to inform me that her theory was correct pass untaken.

“Well, I remembered what you said, Cate, so I tried to be a little more forceful when sending the message.” I had thought I’d done the right thing but both Shani and Cate paled, leaving me confused.

“Oh no,” Shani told me. “We wanted to invite her to church, not scare the bejeebers out of her.”

“She’s right, Alex. You speaking like that might be like shouting, and in her current frame of mind that might not be a good thing. She’s been walking on eggshells around you already,” Cate advised me. “Maybe we should call her?”

“No, that’s not a good idea,” I told her. “The idea was to impress Henry. Calling her to clarify a message he probably doesn’t know about isn’t going to send much of a message. If she takes him to a church and we show up, right on schedule, that’s the type of message I’m trying to send him.”

“Yeah, unless you scare the poor girl in the process,” Cate countered.

“I don’t think I was that harsh,” I argued. “I just tried to think it in a way that it’d be clearer.”

“Clearer?” Shani asked. “Alex, when a loud voice echoes in your head, insisting you do something, that’s likely to have more of an effect than you expect.”

“I don’t think I was that pushy,” I insisted. “Besides, she’s heard me speak to her mentally before. She’ll know what I meant by it.” The women shook their heads but didn’t try to argue with me about it.

“The service starts fairly early so we’ll have to have a fast breakfast,” Shani warned.

“That should be okay. We’ll see Natalie downstairs at breakfast. I don’t know if she’ll be off yet, but we can keep her abreast of our plans,” Cate said.

I thought it was awkward getting dressed with two women in the room. Now I had to select my clothes in a room filled with people before I could make my escape. Dad only had to slip on a tie, since he already had his jacket on. Mom and Cate wanted to find their prettiest dresses and had to consult with everyone on which it might be. In the meantime, I tried to slip out to change, Dad returned, grinning while observing my discomfort.

“Face it son, if you keep collecting females like the last two days, you’d best get comfortable doing more than changing in front of people.” He seemed amused by my predicament, but he had a point. Ignoring it, I slipped into my bathroom, though I could hear the girls laughing over my reactions. The worst they witnessed was me in my underwear, but it felt humiliating enough.

We eventually got everything straightened out and got organized fairly quickly, but that wasn’t the end of the show. The women had to fix their hair and do their makeup together. Dad signaled me and we left with a short word about starting breakfast without them. We wandered downstairs, commenting on the difficulties of dealing with women. Actually that was something I was familiar with, having several sisters, but Dad proceeded to tell me that I hadn’t seen anything yet.

“Just wait,” he remarked with a grin, “living with several women is one thing. Having one attached to you is another, but having several who feel they have a say in your behavior is something else again.” His grin grew wider when I stated I didn’t have it that bad yet. I hoped he was wrong.

When we got to the dining room Natalie met us and led us to a table, acting like the professional hostess she was.

“Has anyone spoken to you about our plans?” my father asked her.

“Oh yes,” she responded. “I got someone to take over the rest of my shift so I can join you. I’ve got a nice throw I can toss over this that should be OK,” she assured us, indicating her uniform. “Shani called down and asked me to send her something she could wear to church, since she didn’t have anything appropriate,” she continued, giving me a knowing look.

We told her that the other ladies would be down shortly as they were busy preparing for the service.

“That’s OK,” she assured us, “I can have you to myself until they come down.” Strange, but she was only looking at me when she told us both this. I need to have a word with her about appropriate business behavior when dealing with psychic teenagers, I thought with a grin. My father shared my humor with me, instantly recognizing just what I was smiling about.

“You do have a way with the ladies around here,” he told me after we’d ordered what had become our new tradition, café au laits. We were well into a couple of omelets with toast before the girls showed up. They simply looked at us, did a little, “tsk, tsk,” type of thing, and then told us to hurry as there wasn’t much time to get to the church. I guess they were rather liberal in their use of ‘not much time’ as we weren’t so hurried that we couldn’t walk the full way there—although I suspect the girls decided there certainly wasn’t time for breakfast simply because they were worried about popping out of their outfits during the service. Still, the walk was nice. I still garnered looks, but Cate mentioned that she recognized a few from before, which my father seconded, so I began to think we were dealing with a smaller number of people than we first thought.

We’d left early so we managed to get there in time to find decent seats. Entering, I saw Patricia and Henry waiting for us. Actually it was her jumping up and running towards me that alerted me to where they were. She was dressed in an elegant black dress with delicate black lace around the edges. I figured she carried it on her concert tour as it was very egalitarian and could be used for just about any occasion and still look appropriate. However, the extravagant hat she was trying to hold steady as she ran, was anything but. It was red and black with a wide brim curled up on one side with a large feather and some sort of fruit on top. Watching her run in it was quite interesting, as it was primarily interested in blowing away. She kept clutching at it as she rushed to meet me. She finally had to slow down and walk at a hurried pace, with Henry rushing to keep up.

She ran into my arms and immediately started apologizing. “I’m sorry, I got this from the first hat shop I could find,” she insisted, seemingly afraid I was going to punish her over her hat choice. “I’m not really a hat person, but when you insisted I bring one I rang up everyone I could find until I discovered someone who could see me on short notice.”

Shani nudged me in the side and looked at me smugly, letting me know my message had been anything but subtle. Cate merely looked meekly at me, afraid to point out she’d been right after all, but I got the message. I’d have to watch my abilities in the future.

“Sorry for yelling, Patricia,” I told her, assuming my message was the equivalent of a new computer user typing in all caps. “I’m still getting used to this stuff.” She sniffed a little.

“That’s OK. I was just worried you were upset with me and that wearing a hat was important to you.”

I just had to sigh in resignation. I’d better watch what I said telepathically and, more importantly, how I said it. I guess sometimes it’s less important that the message get through than the risk of sending the wrong message. As Patricia released me and stepped back Henry stepped up to shake my hand in greeting, even as I glanced at how much attention we were attracting by this display in the middle of the center aisle.

“Wow, I wasn’t sure what to expect when Patty insisted we find a hat shop first thing in the morning. She bolted up from a dead sleep and insisted we find a hat immediately. I almost thought she was going to head out to the first one without even putting on any clothes,” he said, laughing a little. I was beginning to revise my initial estimate of the value of his support in helping Patricia adapt to her new abilities. “I thought we were on a fool’s errand but here you are. You really didn’t call her or arrange this last night, did you?”

I didn’t even bother responding. If he didn’t believe it after I arranged a show like that, it just showed there wasn’t much sense in trying to convince skeptics. I doubted he’d accept what we were saying or that he’d be much help even if he did. I suspect he was too used to taking from Patricia to ever think of giving anything in return. Instead I took Shani’s arm in mine and offered Patricia the other. She accepted and we set off, allowing everyone else to follow as.

It was a beautiful church, not quite as ornate as the typical Catholic edifices but built with the quality of an earlier century. Shani had been right about the hats. It seemed the rows were filled with a visual cacophony of beautiful hats. I suppose if you’re going to invest in a fancy hat, then you’d wear it whenever the opportunity presented itself, and I didn’t think there were many times you could get away with wearing one. My parents and I hadn’t wanted to sit in the front, but Patricia hadn’t given us the option of sitting farther back. Still, I didn’t notice a lot of other white people in the congregation. But by now, that was just another thing to attract people’s attention.

We’d grown into quite a group. There were the four of us from my family, plus Shani, Natalie and then Patricia and Henry. That meant we were now a party of eight, which required almost a full row to ourselves. My parents entered first, followed by Natalie and Cate. Shani came next, pulling me along leaving Patricia beside me and Henry on the far end. We watched the stragglers file in the few open spots left as the service time neared. I’d observed the amount of overweight people wandering the streets of New Orleans before, but you can ignore it when they’re mixed in with lots of other people. Sitting here in a group of mostly local black church goers, about all you could see were wide women wearing extravagant, colorful hats. I was sure I would reinforce a lot of racial stereotypes if I ever told stories about it, but it was fun to watch it happening.

It didn’t take long for everyone to fill in and the music started playing. We each picked up a hymnal and started singing. Some of the voices there were beautiful but I was most taken by those around me. I knew that Patricia had a beautiful soulful voice, but I was astounded by Shani’s as well. Hers was almost operatic in her range and vocal depth. I looked at them both, sitting on either side of me, with a newfound respect.

While we were singing, with me merely mouthing the words since I was so intimidated by the two natural voices on either side of me, I saw Cate fussing around in her purse. I wondered why she’d be so rude, but tried not to be distracted by it. Glancing at her again, I saw her getting her little portable camera ready and wondered what she was doing when I noticed the voices around me trail off as everyone was turning in their seats, glancing at the back of the church. Looking back, I observed a woman moving towards us from the church’s entrance, about the only direction you could approach us from I guess, but she was about to reach over Henry trying to signal me.

“Please Father, if I—” It was just then that our eyes met. I saw her face clearly. She was younger than both Shani and Patricia but still older than me, although I suspected she looked younger than she actually was. She had bright red hair. Not the kind of red that’s bottle fed, that extra bright look that’s unnatural looking. Instead it was a pale more natural color, although the consistent color argued it probably was still produced from a bottle. She had pale white, milky skin to go along with the hair but lacked the characteristic freckles to go along with it. She had on a very nice, off-white dress with long gloves on both hands. That was about all I could observe before she recoiled and almost fell over onto Patricia and Henry.

Everyone moved quickly trying to assist her, and the erratic activity effectively halted much of the singing, focusing even more attention on us. It took a bit for her to recover her senses and I immediately recognized the glassy, squinting look to her eyes and knew what she was experiencing. Yep, she started glancing around the crowded church, focusing on the different people around her.

“Quick, let’s get out of here before she—” I managed to say before she refocused, turning to me.

Once again holding a gloved hand up to shield her eyes, she asked, “Wha ... What happened?”

“Shhh,” I urgently whispered as I stood and tried to lead her away, backwards out of the aisle. It was hardly a graceful move but I accomplished it. When I managed to gain the clearing of the central aisle, I realized the music had completely stopped and everyone was watching us, including the minister who’d been about to start his service.

“It’s nothing, I’ll make sure she’s all right,” I hurried to tell everyone as I felt a blush overwhelming my face. Unfortunately, the girl who’d just approached me took that moment to collapse beside me. I don’t know if she was trying to humble herself, worship me or whether she simply hadn’t recovered from her shock, but she was on her knees before I could stop her.

“Do you need any help?” I heard a deep, baritone voice asking from nearby. I was trying to urge her up without making a scene, but wasn’t having much luck.

“Please Father, forgive me,” she wailed, sounding like she was on the verge of tears. “Forgive me for I have sinned.”

Shit, I thought to myself, this is getting to be too much. Just once, I’d like to have an encounter like this where it didn’t cause a scene. No, I cautioned myself, Dad always told me to be careful what I wished for, because that was usually exactly what you got and you’d usually regret it when it happened. I wasn’t sure how I’d regret anything more than a scene like this, but if it was possible, I was sure it was likely to happen.

“Please, I’m not a reverend,” I quietly insisted as I took a step in the direction of the entrance, trying to help her stand while backing up.

“I’m sorry, please, clearly you’re an angel sent from—”

I could see where this was heading, however I felt stymied because I knew if I reacted instinctively I’d end up shouting at her mentally and then I’d have to calm her afterwards. Instead I simply hissed, “Please, stand up and let’s discuss this outside.”

By now Henry had stepped aside and both Patricia and Shani rushed in, clasping the woman’s arms and assisting me in helping her to stand and guiding her towards the door. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Cate holding her camera to her eyes and thought some very unbrotherly thoughts about her. Something about a nice location for her to store her camera, but I left them unsaid as I was still trying to ease us gingerly out of the building.

A few people began to move towards us, whether to assist us or to try to protect her from us I couldn’t tell, but both Shani and Patricia began whispering to the unknown lady and she seemed to be listening enough to follow their lead. We ended up moving swiftly away, me walking backwards leading the new woman, my parents following us apologizing on our behalf, the two girls talking to the woman I was pulling behind me and Cate filming the entire event for posterity.

By the time we finally exited the sanctuary—with Natalie holding the doors open for me—I was about ready to blow a gasket. I was about to let loose with some language when I caught my mother’s eye and thought better of it. Not only would I have to deal with her, but there would also be other complications for swearing in church ranging from Cate’s teasing, my father’s lecture and disappointment from the others, so I just didn’t want to go there. Just as I was debating what I was going to do, I noticed movement at the doors and watched someone push them open.

However, just as he began to exit the sanctuary the new woman dropped to her knees again. She was physically prevented from doing anything else by Shani and Patricia, but she started wailing. She managed to keep it quiet, but it was still a wail.

“Please, don’t punish me for my sinful ways. I’ll repent. I’ll do better. I’ll...” As she began a litany of the things she’d do to atone for whatever she thought she’d done, the figure in the door stepped inside, observing what was occurring as he hurried to close the sanctuary door, dampening the sound of her cries inside the church. The girls were busy whispering to her, trying to calm her again. The man now standing in front of us was an older darker man with balding gray hair. He simply looked at the scene laid out before him and considered what he was seeing. It was clear from his attire that he was a lay leader, and not a church official himself.

“Look,” I said, thinking I’d best get a handle on this before it got any further out of hand, “you can see a Priest later to repent. That’s not my department.” I know, it’s a terrible thing to say to a distraught woman, but under the circumstances it was all I could think of.

After I’d said that she looked up at me, or rather, she tried to, and whispered, “What ... what are you here for then?”