The Devil In Me

It I is said that I was born on a Sunday in September where it rained so hard that some car windshields were smashed, but I think that that's probably a bit of inebriated hyperbole, perpetrated by one Ms. Rolands.

By all accounts, it had indeed been a Sunday, and my mother had been where she normally was on a Sunday afternoon, singing with the Christ Redeemer AME Church, our little store front church at 140th and Cordlandt Avenue. The before mentioned Ms. Rolands had been slurring out her alto part in the hymn “Were you there" when my mother apparently broke forth screaming that she was convulsing with the holy spirit, eventually accosting the terrified Ms. Rolands with balled fists.  (Again, this hyperbole was egregious on all counts as it is said that  my mother quietly and inconspicuously tapped Mrs. Rolands on the shoulder and asked  to get by her.

No one disputes that the Reverend Candies (yes, that's ACTUALLY his name) had been railing about eternal damnation,  and the pit of fire that was sure to consume "so ah,  so, ah ah, so many of this here congregation, yassah."

Let me take a moment to address Rev. Candies' speech, as it is something that Ms. Rolands was fixated on. At one time, his particular vocal tic in saying "ah" had been one that he had intentionally invested in for the purpose of sounding what he believed to be scholarly. Eventually, however,  the ism had turned into something of a real stutter,  of which he was immensely proud. When he was saying something of particular merit,  he could "ah" for minutes at a time before concluding his point.

That morning, as my mother ambled by Ms. Rolands, Reverend Candies' sermon had been littered with "ahs" and his sermon had been rather directed  In fact, one might say that his message had been somewhat pointed during the entire season of my mother's pregnancy. The store front church being what it was, it was no secret that the Reverend had a, how shall we say, insatiable thirst for those of the (ah) "weaker sex" with a (ah ah ah ah ah ah ) pious disposition. That is to say, when young, quiet Jesus-seeking women entered into his flock, he could not help but tend to them--- personally.

I can only imagine my shy, petite mama, joining up the church having just come from Tortola,  British Virgin Islands.  Her manners were perfectly British, and I can almost see her big brown eyes taking in the Bronx.

I've often asked myself why my mother chose the Bronx.  She worked as a bank teller was all the way downtown, near the world trade center, and she must have had quite a commute. In the 80s, when she'd arrived,  I imagine that there were parts of Harlem that would have been safer than Mott Haven,  the southernmost part of the Bronx. Most of her other relatives who lived in the states either lived in Brooklyn or East Harlem. Perhaps she moved to the converted warehouse building in the South Bronx because there was no lease and she didn't need proof of employment.  She had somehow found two roommates, and made do.

Whatever it was, she'd made the church the center of her life,  going to all services. (Sunday, Monday,  Wednesday,  Friday, and Saturday). Ms. Rolands says that it's precisely this fact that caused a misunderstanding between the Rev and my mother.  Reverend Candies thought my mother came for the powerful and (ah) undeniable SPIRITUAL magnitude that (ah) young women were often fond of (ah ah) receiving from him. On numerous occasions, he had entreated her to join him for one-on-one bible study at his home, only a few blocks from the church, and she had quietly refused. When he became desperate that she wasn't understanding his meaning, he'd  asked her on a date directly, apparently to dinner at some pizza joint on 149th street. She'd hemmed and hawwed the way my mother was wont to do, but in the end it was clear: the answer was no.

According to Ms. Rolands, "God is a jealous God, but wasn't nobody more jealous than Rev. Candies." You must imagine, therefore,  that it was with great agitation that Reverend Candies received news that his most prized sheep was pregnant. For one thing, the young woman spent so much time in church, that he could not fathom when she would have had time for such "Satanic absurdities." Moreover, he had assumed that he had been making inroads with this little lamb, as she had almost smiled at him at the Wednesday Friday services.  

 When she later rebuffed his extraordinarily magnanimous gesture of taking her as a wife so that she could avoid utter shame, his incredulity cemented into bitterness. His sermons took on a glistening edge, and all he could preach about, for several months straight, was the evil and snake-like trickery of woman.  Ms. Rolands says that it was hard to stand the man during that time, but hell, it was their church, and they weren't about to abandon it. 

  I should take a moment to a apologize, for I do ramble so. It was the my BIRTH we were discussing, and it is the birth we have finally come to. My mother inched her way by Ms. Peterson, and began to trudge toward the back of the church.  Several watchful eyes noticed that she seemed unstable, and Elder Dinkins (possibly one of the only members of the church who was ever openly critical of Rev. Candies, but that's another tale) immediately bolted forward, as my mother sank to her knees.

"REPENT THY SINFUL EVIL WOMAN! RENOUNCE THE SIN OF TEMPTATION YOU HAVE INDELIBLY REVELED IN! REPEND THY PRIDE IN REJECTING THE LORD'S CARING AND TRUSTING HANDS" shouted a delighted Reverend Candies, who, according to Ms. Peterson, didn't seem to have a clue that the young woman had hit her time. He assumed that she was actually submitting to his withering torment. 

The choir had ominously swollen to a fever pitch in their hymn, the 8 sopranos screeching 

"WERE YOU THERE WHEN THEY STRUNG HIM FROM THE TREE?

WERE YOU THERE WHEN THEY STRUNG HIM FROM THE TREE?

OOOH, OOH OH OH! SOMETIMES IT CAUSES ME TO TREMBLE. TREMBLE, TREMBLE.

WHERE YOU THERE WHEN THE STRUNG HIM FROM THE TREE?" 

When my mother began to call out, several members of the choir raced to Elder Dinkins' side.

Suddenly, the lights of the church began to flicker on and off, and the very ground trembled. Rain thrashed the little edifice, and rolling thunder shook the place to its core.

After a moment, though, the earth stood still, and the wind calmed. The lights steadied, and the choir silenced. 

"It's a BOY!" Elder Dinkins cried, and the woman began cooing. 

Almost concurrently, however, a shriek went out from the choir.  The Reverend toppled over the front end of his rostrum, and fell to the ground. 

He was dead.

My first victim claimed and I was not yet a minute old.