Kiss of Noir (15 page)

“If you stay by your faith and let the sorrow deepen that faith, you will be
REWARDED
!”

I leaned to Sayan and asked, “Why are they all holding their hands in the air?”

Sayan glared at me and shook her head. “Shh!” Sayan raised her own hand. Shrugging, I leaned back in my chair, extended my long legs, admiring how they looked in Ellis’s suit, and reached one of my arms up too. But it turned into a mighty stretch and a big yawn, which earned another Evil Eye from Sayan.

“What did you expect, bringing me here?” I said, unruffled. I concentrated on looking for Janet, while Sayan focused on the preacher.

Lightning flashed. Brother Otis worked this into his sermon. Thunder boomed.

“Because the devil will try to scare you. He will try to tempt you. There’s nothing as sweet as what the devil offers!”

Sayan glanced pointedly at me.

“What does the devil have? He’s got
everything
.” Brother Otis began gesticulating. “He’s got sex; he’s got money; he’s got fame; he’s got drink; he’s got drugs; he’s got gambling; he’s got glorious material goods; he has a life that sinners call
easy
, but those of you who are saved call
lazy;
he’s got everything. He will tempt you with all that, yes, sir. That life looks easy. That life looks nice. But you don’t want that life, do you?”

Ominous organ chords. A chorus of soft, “No, Jesus,” rose from the crowd. I spotted Janet, her eyes closed in devotion, her cheeks wet, her arm raised, an open Bible on her lap.

I plucked my crotch and sat up. How long could this guy talk? Sin bad, God good. Done, let’s leave.

“You do not want that life because why?” Brother Otis boomed.

A cacophony of voices shouted answers.

“You do not want that pretty life because the devil has
LIES
!”

At this, a few women jumped up and danced a little among the sounds of agreement from the audience.

“The devil lies and he cheats and he’ll fry you up fine when your life of wealth is over. No one will hear your torment. Jesus will weep but he’ll turn his sweet back because you listened to
THE DEVIL
!”

I glanced around, feeling like an observer in a zoo. Was this how sports looked to people who didn’t care? I could see myself as a version of Brother Otis and my players as backup and the fans as this audience. I shook my head. Sports made more sense than Jesus.

Brother Otis toweled himself again. His forehead sprang wet right after he wiped it. His grizzled hair glistened with sweat. He stood front and center with his eyes open wide and his face earnest. His voice was soft. “You’ve got to choose right, people. You’ve got to be right now so you’ll be all right later.”

Chords of redemption throbbed from the organ.

“You got to choose right.”

Nods and murmurs emanated from the Saved.

“Now the problem with choosing Jesus is
THAT IS HARD
.” Brother Otis commenced pacing again, daubing himself with the towel and swinging it for emphasis. “It is hard, Lord, it is hard. Do you get rich being good?”

The audience mumbled no.

“No, you do not. Do you get glory for giving your life to Jesus in this evil world?”

The audience responded with quiet passion. The organ built tension.

“No, you do
NOT
. You are heckled and reviled and ridiculed. Are your problems solved with your wayward children tempted beyond resistance? Your girls led into sex and motherhood, your boys into drugs and gangs, and every one of them headed for a dead end?”

The mothers in the crowd shouted amen. Sayan caressed her belly thoughtfully. A woman put her arm around Janet and squeezed her.

“Are all your problems solved the minute you get saved? No, they are not, people, no, they are not. You know that Jesus just helps. He is there for you and he loves us all. Oh, God, how he loves us.” Brother Otis fell to his knees and stared up. “I’ve had my trials. Sometimes praying on my knees all night long was the only thing that saved me.”

Women shook their heads and clucked. I wondered what he had been saved from. The air was so thick I felt it press the clothes onto my body. Thunder clapped.

“The devil offered me
everything
, and I know when you’re low, when you’re weak, when you’re hurt, the devil has come to you too, selling you his slick false life.”

The organ trembled at the edge of orgasm. Women clapped and stomped their feet.

“But there’s one thing…” Brother Otis said, standing up. “There is one thing and one thing only that the devil don’t have and never will have.” He paused. The crowd drew in its breath. Lightning flashed and it was so bright that I snapped my eyes closed and saw X-ray after-images.

“The devil
DON’T HAVE GAWD
!” Brother Otis screamed.

The women, as if freed by this, launched themselves into the aisles like dervishes. The organ crashed into a crescendo, sweat pouring off the organist. My ears popped at this explosion.

I excused myself and fled the tent. Between the assault of joy on my ears and the plump air that lay in my throat like a hot snake, I needed to move. Once outside the carnival, I relaxed and breathed. My body was restless, so I strode in the tall grass, enjoying the feel of my muscles. The clouds were so low, I was sure I could touch them if I jumped. The air alternated between tense stillness and purposeful gusts. Thunder growled, louder and closer. It was full dark now. I stared back into the bright tent at the mass of devout backs. All was still. Nobody moved but the children. The atmosphere beckoned to me like something sweet and nostalgic from the turn of the century. I yearned for cotton candy and a Ferris wheel and a quilt show and piglets and pure jams made by honest farm women.

“Good people,” I muttered, imagining big, tight families and huge Southern dinners and God right there in the center of it all. As long as I was a little removed, I could admire it. I smiled. I felt something on my boot. I looked down, squinting, and saw a snake slither across the leather and disappear into the grass.

“Goddamn,” I said. I walked very carefully back to the tent. Just before I ducked underneath to return to my chair, a commercial jet flew over, lights blinking, and further emphasized the duality of eras. Out there was technology and modern life. I was stuck here in the marshy field with snakes and sawdust and the ancient battle of good versus evil.

I sat and Sayan smiled, relieved, and squeezed my leg. Brother Otis was still talking. Suddenly, the rain came, unleashed in full fury all at once. The tents’ edges leaned and were blown, the pounding water was deafening. Rain leaked onto two dozen heads. Still, no one moved. Brother Otis knew enough to wind it up. A pair of women sitting at the back of the stage stood and supported a woman so frail and feeble that I thought she was already dead. Her mostly bald head was covered in a transparent film of scarf and what hair she had was an ephemeral white cloud. She was less than five feet tall and she weighed about sixty pounds. But there she was in her resplendent floral dress, hobbling inch by inch toward the donation box.

Brother Otis was shouting good night and to please bring family and friends for his final day tomorrow.

“And here is blessed Mother Robinson. Here she comes. Mother Robinson, holy Mother Robinson to give the Lord her tithe.”

People were transfixed as the women nudged Mother Robinson closer and closer. She held a fistful of money clenched in her tiny ropy gnarled hand.

“Oh, thank you, Mother Robinson, you are my guiding light. You are an angel on this earth. May God bless you seven times seven times seven, pressed down and overflowing. I can always count on dear Mother Robinson to show up and contribute to my work for Jesus.”

At last, Mother Robinson was close enough to fling her money into the box. It caught the light and fluttered briefly like green butterflies. Mother Robinson and her two support women had already turned and were shambling cautiously back to their seats of honor.

The believers burst into applause. Brother Otis grinned and declared, “We will sing this one out tonight. This is Mother Robinson’s favorite song.” And with that, everyone stood and began singing and dispersing to their cars. Thunder and rain did not deter them whatsoever.

Sayan sighed and smiled at me. “That was so good. Ready to go?”

“Am I ever.”

Sayan frowned and shook her head. “I swear, Nora, I never knew a person to be so unchurched.”

I stretched. “I went to college instead.”

Sayan paused. “And just what does that mean?”

I waved my hand. “Nothing, nothing, forget it, okay? I’m Popeye, remember?”

Sayan softened. “All right, Popeye, let’s run through this downpour.”

“There are snakes. Want me to carry you?”

“Hmph. I will stand on my own two feet and Jesus will look after me.”

“Suit yourself.” I glanced around for Janet but she was gone.

We joined a long line of cars returning to civilization. Through the rain as we waited in traffic, I watched the crew clean up, turn off lights, and retire to their waiting mobile homes.

My skin felt electric. I knew I needed to go out for some fresh air. My legs were jangly; my heart raced. I knew this feeling—my body was on the hunt. I dug through my suitcase looking for my strap-on. I threw clothes all over the room in my frantic search.

At the same second that I held the stiff black penis victoriously in the air, Sayan opened the door.

Sayan emitted a series of clicks and finally muttered, “Oh, Lord.” Then to me, “Sorry.” She closed the door quietly.

I shrugged and stripped as I dashed for the bathroom. In the shower, I shaved my scalp and scrubbed my skin, getting more and more pumped. I was too restless to let even my fear of the swamps slow me down tonight.

When I finally emerged from the bedroom, I was ready to conquer.

I had shopped at an extravagant men’s boutique earlier and had acquired a new style. My previous style had been conservative and mainstream. Abercrombie, Ralph Lauren, the occasional FUBU. But a store down by the river and run by Latinas caught my eye this afternoon. When I went inside, they swarmed, seducing me with the lie that these clothes were from Cuba. That musicians and rebels and pimps wore them. So I bought six new shirts: a purple iridescent, a bright red, a shiny green, a rich blue, a liquid gold, and a luminous stripe. All so delicious and loud. I also bought several twill trousers, some pleated, some not. I couldn’t quite take the plunge to wear bright matching pants…yet. Stay away from Los Angeles long enough, I could see myself a luxurious tropical parrot, strutting proudly with my new plumage.

“See y’all later,” I called to Ellis and Sayan, who were cuddled together on the couch watching television. “Don’t wait up.”

He grinned. “I get you.”

Sayan unlooped herself from Ellis’s embrace to follow me. “I know you’re not borrowing my car, Half,” Sayan said, dragging me into the kitchen.

“Nope.” I threw my keys in the air and caught them behind my back. “I got my ride. No worries, puddin’.” I chucked Sayan on the cheek.

“Uh, the reason I…what I wanted before, um, was, I opened your door because…to see if you wanted any of these leftovers?” Sayan opened the refrigerator door and peered in, studying with great interest.

“Forget all that. I’ll check it tomorrow.” I closed the refrigerator door, my high spirits dancing like flames in my face. “How do I look?”

Sayan’s eyes traveled over me, avoiding my crotch and fixing on my forehead. “Fine.”

“Naw, naw, baby, look at me,” I said, sidling close. “Ain’t I finger-licking good?”

Sayan brushed me aside and sat at the kitchen table with a slam and a huff. “Your resemblance to Ellis is amazing. It really is.”

“Does that mean you like me?” I was all eager friskiness.

Sayan made a mouth. After rolling her eyes, she finally spoke. “What do you…I mean…do you
use
…I mean…what…that’s just sick…I can’t…okay…don’t you see, you wish you were a
man
!” Sayan said the last word in a harsh whisper.

I laughed, easy and comfortable. “No, I don’t, Sayan. It has nothing to do with that. Penetration feels good to
everyone
and some women love to penetrate and others love to be penetrated and some others do both. The point is
women
doing to
women
what feels good. Not trying to be a man, or imitating straightness, just using every tool for pure pleasure.”

Sayan’s eyes goggled. “Do they…? Never mind. Seems like y’all are just sinning when you could get all you need from a natural man.”

I grinned, feeling free and playful. “Now what did I just say? What did I just tell you? Chicks with dicks are a whole different vibe.”

“Mmm-hmm. No more.” Sayan sniffed. We regarded each other, Sayan wary, me hot and fine in my best butch posture.

“Hey, baby!” Ellis called. “Can you bring me some of that cold chicken when you come back, please?”

“Sure thing, darlin’,” Sayan answered.

“Sayan, you leave Nora alone, you hear me now?” Ellis called. Sayan and I both laughed. Sayan stood and fingered my shirt.