The Veil (16 page)

On the way home, Misha stopped by the grocery store for what she knew would be the first of her many trips to the store for her mother during the next twenty-four hours. Although her mother was negative, she could cook and Misha was planning to enjoy every minute of it. She purchased the items and headed down Campbellton Road to her mother's home.

“Mom, I got the stuff on your list.” Misha set the bags on the table as she entered the house from the garage. She could smell the pies and cakes her mother had already started baking. She peeped under the cake plate to see what type of cake her mother had made. She wanted to see the tale-tale signs of her father cutting the cake so she could have an excuse to cut herself a slice. Noticing the big hole in the cake, Misha reached for the knife sitting on the counter beside the cake plate.

“You just like your daddy. Leave my cake alone. That's for tomorrow,” her mother said as she walked into the room.

“Daddy already cut it. Can I have one slice?”

“Your daddy did that before I saw him. You leave my cake alone. Did you get my cinnamon?”

“It wasn't on the list.”

“I can't make my pie without cinnamon. You knew I needed cinnamon. Now, I'm going to have to go to the store.”

“I'll go for you. Anything else?” Misha knew her mother had another list. She watched as her mother wrote out a completely different list and gave it to her. She picked up her purse and keys off the table as her niece and nephew ran in the door.

“Auntie Misa. Happy Thanksgiving,” India screamed with her arms outstretched to Misha.

“India, Asa. My favorite niece and nephew.” She put her purse down and ran to embrace both. She picked them up, one under each arm. She swung them around. They screamed with delight.

“Hey, Misha, Mama. Smells good in here. What you cooking?” Justin walked in looking like a younger version of their father. He went straight to the cake plate.

“You better leave that alone, before Mama go off on you,” Misha warned.

He ignored her and went to the cabinet and took out a plate. He picked up the knife and sliced deep into the cake.

Misha lowered the two children, who ran toward her mother. “Mama, Justin cut your cake.”

“Stop tattling,” her mother said. “He's been working hard all day at that airport. Justin, cut these babies a piece. Not too big or they won't eat dinner.”

“You let him have a piece of cake?” Misha was angry. Justin was her mother's favorite. There was never any doubt. Being the younger of the two, he was spoiled. Her mother always let him get away with murder. The sight of him enjoying the cake, licking the icing off his fingers, made her jealous.

She did not want to be that way. She loved her brother. There were times when pain of the past would spring forth. Justin never treated her poorly. He always found a way to show his love. There were times when they were young and her mother would not get her something that she wanted or needed. Justin always got it for her by somehow sweet talking their mother. She could never deny Justin anything. The older he got he became more like a big brother than her kid brother. But she wanted a piece of coconut cake and he was teasing her by pretending to give her a taste and then pushing the slice into his own mouth.

“Misha, you going to the store or what?” her mother asked.

“I'm going. Are you sure this is all you need?”

Her mother walked toward the stove. The children ran out of the room, looking for their grandfather. “Y'all come back here. Your Papa Joe is not here right now. Go in the den and watch TV.” She looked over at Misha standing in the doorway watching Justin eat cake. “I thought you were going to the store?”

“Mama, get off her case. Come on, Misha, I'll ride with you. Mama, watch the kids.”

“How am I supposed to watch two children and do all this cooking?”

“Bye, Mama. We'll be right back. Come on, Misha.”

They walked outside and Misha noticed a new black SUV sitting in front of her mother's home. “Is that your car?”

“Yeah. Just got it last week. It's nice. Got it financed at the hospital credit union. I told Pam it was a good idea to join. Got a good rate, too. Wanna drive it?”

“Yeah.” Misha took the keys and headed for the truck. She switched on the ignition. “It purrs.” She pulled into traffic.

“Don't let Mama get to you.” Justin said as they journeyed to the store.

“She let you eat a piece of cake right after she told me no. You know you're her favorite. She doesn't keep that a secret.”

“You're the oldest, so she expects you to be more responsible. If I forget, remind me to get a six-pack of light beer for the holidays. I know Mama and Grandma are not going to have any.”

“Now you know Grandma is not going to let you drink at the house while she's there.”

“I can drink outside. Besides, I'm grown.”

“Okay, Mr. Grown. We'll see how grown you are when Grandma takes her stick to you.” They both laughed because they knew their grandma didn't play. She was firm about not having alcohol in her house or during family occasions. The people who drank beer usually did it away from her eyesight. “This truck handles nice. I've been thinking about buying a new car. Can't do it now. I got into Clark.”

“You did? That's great. I didn't even know you applied.” Justin reached up and gripped the handle over the door as Misha maneuvered a tight curve.

“I'm going to get my master's in education. I'll start in January.”

“Are you going to be strong enough for that? I mean with the cancer and all.”

“I'm fine. I told you they got it all.”

“I know. But, I still worry about you. Pam and I prayed for you.”

“You? Prayed?”

He started to laugh. “I know. I know. I haven't been the best example of Christianity but I do pray. I don't want anything to happen to my big sis. You're the only one I can talk to when I can't talk to Pam. I love her but sometimes marriage is hard. There are times when I think we were too young when we got married. Then there are days when I wonder why we waited so long.”

“And today?”

“Today, I have the perfect family. We're happy. But I still worry about you. You need to find somebody to settle down with and have some children. My kids need some cousins to spend the night with.”

“Or you need a babysitter. You know you can ask me to keep them anytime. I love it when they spend the night.”

“We love it too.” They continued talking and laughing as they pulled into the parking space in front of the grocery store. People were running into the store like they were giving away free food. “Misha, are you really all right? I mean, you're not holding anything back are you? Pam's a nurse and if you need our help, we want to help you as much as we can.”

They sat in the truck talking. “I'm fine. Don't worry about me. I'm still going to the doctor on a regular basis. That's only for follow-up. So far, it's been good. If anything's wrong, I'll tell you. I won't tell Mama but I'll tell you.”

“You need to sit down and talk to Mama.”

“You mean sit down and argue with Mama. No, thanks. I want to have a good holiday.” Misha shifted in her seat. “There is something I want to tell you.”

“What is it?”

“I'm moving back to Washington.”

“I thought you said you were going to Clark. When were you planning to move?”

Misha shook her head. “No, you don't understand. The Holy Spirit told me I was going back to Washington and I would be there awhile.”

“Holy Spirit?” He sighed and shook his head. “I thought you were serious. You had me going for a minute there. Come on, let's get Mama's stuff before she calls.” He reached for the door.

Misha reached out and took his arm, stopping him from leaving the truck. “No. Really. I'm moving to Washington. I have this gift. I know you don't believe. I know in my heart I'm moving back to Washington. I don't know when or how or even why but I wanted you to know in case it happens quickly so you won't be surprised.”

“Well I know when you set your mind to something, you do it. Give me some time okay? Pam and I need to know how much babysitting time we have left.” He gave a nervous laugh and hugged her. “Big sis, take care of yourself. I love you and don't want you to get hurt.”

“I will. I promise you with God on my side, I'll be okay.”

They opened the door and began the second of several trips to the grocery store for the day.

It was Saturday after Thanksgiving and Misha was tired from her Friday all-day shopping experience with Pam, her sister-in-law. They purchased all the children's Christmas toys and a few gifts for other family members. Misha carefully placed the toys in her spare bedroom, pushing away some of the items she had stored there. Picking up the doll that crawled and cried, she pulled the string and placed it on the floor, watching it crawl toward a stack of boxes. Then, she heard in her spirit,
pack your suitcase and go where I tell you.

This time she did not question that voice. She was ready to go wherever the Lord sent her. She was in love—in love with the Lord. He had protected her from the events of the past year. When she looked back, God always had her back. He always led her in the right direction. Now, she had no doubt God was continuing to lead her in the right direction.

Anyone else would have thought she was crazy getting into her car and driving, not knowing where she was going. Yet, she continued driving until she saw a sign that said T
USCALOOSA
C
OUNTY
, G
EORGIA.
The next sign that caught her attention read W
ELCOME
TO
C
ART-ERSVILLE,
G
EORGIA.
“What in the world am I doing here?”

She continued to follow the voice that sounded as if someone were sitting on the seat beside her, giving her directions. She pulled into a hotel as instructed by that voice. She checked into the small hotel and was given a key to a room that looked clean but had a hint of stale cigarette smell in the air.

Having been on the road a long time, she walked to a small restaurant across the parking lot from the hotel.

“You know what you want?” a small Mexican woman asked, then took Misha's order and ran off to get her food. Misha sat at the table, wishing she had gotten a newspaper or magazine before she came into the restaurant. She busied herself reading the old, torn menu card that remained on the table. She looked around the restaurant and noticed she was the only African American person there. The waitress placed a glass of water and wrapped silverware on the table. Misha attempted to start a conversation. But, her English was not good and Misha's Spanish was even worse. So that idea went nowhere fast.

After her meal, Misha decided to do a little shopping while she was in town. She spotted a shop she wanted to look in. When she opened the door, immediately the lady behind the counter ran to meet her.

“Can I help you with something?” she asked Misha.

“No. I'm just looking right now. Thanks for asking.” Misha walked around the store, looking at the different items as the lady followed her around the store. Misha picked up a blouse to get a better look and the lady took the blouse out of her hand.

“We have this blouse in another color. I don't think this suits you,” she said. The clerk folded the blouse and placed it back on the table.

“Excuse me. I was looking at that.”

“Oh, I'm sorry. Were you going to buy it?”

Misha's left brow arched as she noticed the smug look on the woman's face. “Look, lady, I'm a woman of God. I'm not here to steal anything from you. I have plenty of money. I don't need to steal,” she said as calmly as possible, not allowing her anger to show.

“Were you going to buy something? Can I get it for you?” the lady replied, not being moved by Misha's speech.

Misha became so disgusted with the situation she shook her head and left the store, feeling insulted. This was the first time she had been found guilty of shopping while black. It was a weird and insulting experience. She quickly walked to her hotel room and stayed until the next day.

“God, why am I here?” Misha prayed aloud as she packed her bag, preparing to leave town Sunday morning. She really wanted to go to church that morning. Any church would do. She just wanted to hear the Word.

She checked out of the hotel and headed for the highway. As she drove through town, she noticed as small brick church with people going inside. M
ISSION
B
APTIST
C
HURCH,
the sign out front read. She found the scene interesting enough to make a three-point turn in the road and turn into the church parking lot.

Misha walked into the church and sat down at the end of one of the middle pews. The whispers of the congregation asking who invited her there resonated in her ears. Looking around the sanctuary, she noticed she was again the only African American person in attendance. She lifted her purse that sat on the pew next to her and stood to leave, when she was greeted by a middle-aged woman with big, blond hair.

“You're new here,” she said matter-of-factly in her thick Southern accent. She reached her hand out to shake Misha's hand.

“I'm just passing through. I wanted to attend church before I got back on the highway.”

“Isn't that nice. Well, we're glad you chose to fellowship with us this morning. Please come join me and my family. We're up on the second pew.” She leaned closer to Misha's ear and continued. “I hope you're not one of those back-row Baptist who only likes to sit in the back of the church.” She laughed at her own joke.

“No, I am definitely not a back-row Baptist. I would love to join you and your family.”

The woman took Misha's elbow and led her to a pew in the front, where she was introduced to the woman's husband, son, and daughter.

Misha had never been in a church, Southern Baptist or otherwise, where no one said a thing while the service was going on. One could hear a caterpillar crawling across the floor. The pastor's preaching style was simple, yet powerful. She studied his movements, his commitment, and his passion as he ministered. At the conclusion of the service, she knew she had to meet him.

The pastor stood at the door, greeting the congregation leaving the church. He shook each one's hand and spoke to them as if he knew each one personally. When Misha approached him, he hugged her as if she was a regular parishioner. “Ma'am, I'm glad you came to worship with us today. Are you new in town?”

“I'm just passing through. I'm headed home to Atlanta. I wanted to go to church this morning and stopped when I saw your church. Thank you for that wonderful sermon.”

“Well thank you, and if you are ever in town, come by and see us again.” He patted her on the back.

“Thank you. I will.”

Misha walked to her car. She could see a few people staring suspiciously at her. She started her car.

Go tell the pastor that it's time for him to start that church
.
No longer will he be restricted by man's laws. He will be free to be directed by the Holy Spirit alone. If he starts his church now, miracles, signs, and wonders shall follow him.

She started to back her car out of the space. But, she heard it again. She pulled back into the space and went inside the church. She walked up to the pastor and told him what she heard in her spirit. Stunned, he took her hand and escorted her to a woman standing near the pulpit.

“This is my wife. Honey, listen to what this lady told me,” he said, keeping a grip on Misha's hand. “Go ahead, tell her,” he said, standing between his wife and Misha.

Misha's voice trembled as she told them what came to her. “Well, the Spirit of the Lord told me to tell you it's time to start that church.”

Both of them grabbed one of her arms and escorted her down a small hallway and into an even smaller office a short distance away. The pastor's wife closed the door.

“I knew it was something about you when you walked into the church.” The pastor sat in a chair on the other side of the desk.

“I did too. I was going to speak to you before you left the church but you got away from me. You must be a prophet,” his wife said.

“I'm not a prophet. I only say what the Spirit tells me.”

“I know you don't know anything about me. By the way, I'm Pastor Jack and this is my wife, Betty.” The pastor pointed at his wife.

“Nice to meet you.”

“I know we're acting strange. But what you don't know is the Lord had put in our hearts to start a church. We had been praying about it for months. Last week we started fasting and praying for clear direction from God and you walked into our church.”

Misha was stunned. She was beginning to understand the ministry God had placed her in. She had never seen anything like it before. No one ever talked about people like her. She stopped short of saying she was a prophet. But she was beginning to realize her job was to deliver messages from God. She decided that day to go where God led her and say what He told her, and she knew it would not always be in the pulpit.

Misha drove back to Atlanta feeling confident in her relationship with God. She felt stronger and empowered to do the will of God no matter what. When she arrived at her apartment, her spirits were high. She praised God for teaching her about the ministry He placed inside of her.

There was that name, her childhood dream that was coming back to her. This time was different. She heard his name again. She believed God that Matthew was soon to come and she would be alone no more. She danced all around her apartment until she began to worship. She fell on her knees and worshiped God for who He is and what He was doing in her life.

The next day she returned to school feeling refreshed and ready for her class. The calendar sat on her desk. The starred December 21st stood out. She could not wait. It was the last day of classes before the Christmas holiday began. She placed an X on Monday and began preparing herself for her class.

“Hey, girl. How was your weekend?” Judy asked, walking into her classroom, wearing a sweater with a snowman on the front.

“You're dressed like we are going to get a snow storm or something. Remember, they call it Hotlanta.”

“My husband got me this sweater and I'm going to wear it no matter how tacky it is. So how was your holiday?”

“It was good. My mother and grandmother threw down in the kitchen.”

“The food was that good, huh?”

“I'm not talking about the food. You should hear the two of them in the kitchen fussing when they're cooking. We all stay out of the kitchen. The food was good though. How was yours?”

“Well, it was kinda special.”

“Oh yeah? How special?” Misha stopped separating the papers on her desk.

“Well . . . I . . . Well . . .” Judy began to pace the floor. “It's just that . . . I don't know how to say this.”

“Judy, what is it?” Misha walked to her side.

“I'm pregnant again. I'm going to have a baby. I don't want you to feel bad because of . . . well . . . you know.”

“You're pregnant? That's great! I'm happy for you,” Misha squealed and hugged her. “When are you due?”

“In June. I didn't want you to feel . . . well . . . I wanted to tell you myself. We waited to tell our parents before we told anyone else. I hope I'm not making you uncomfortable.”

“Don't be silly. I'm happy if you're happy. You guys are truly blessed. You guys are going to have four kids. Are you happy?”

“Yes. I never thought I would have a large family but it's probably one of the best things that has happened to me. It's what I needed. The kids are excited, too. They are already fighting about whether they want a little brother or sister.”

“Judy, don't think about me. I'm fine. I'm so very happy for you. If you don't mind, I want to pray for you before class starts.”

“I would like for you to pray for me. I'm not exactly in my twenties anymore.”

“Twenties?”

“Cut it out, Misha. Okay, thirties and that's where I'm ending it.” They began to laugh as they joined hands.

“Father, how excited I am for your goodness and how you send us unexpected blessings. We honor your love and grace over our lives. Right now, Father, I have one request—I place my friend, my sister Judy, and her baby in your hands. I pray she have a safe and wonderful pregnancy. I pray both she and her baby remain healthy and strong. Use them as an instrument for your glory. In Jesus' name I pray. Amen.” Misha concluded her prayer with a hug for Judy.

“I better get to my class before the bell rings. Thanks for the prayer, Misha.”

Misha returned to her desk after Judy left the classroom. She felt a tear roll down her face.
Why am I crying?
She could feel another one follow the first, then another. She raced to her door and closed it, wiping her face in the process. She walked to the back of her classroom to the corner and leaned her head against the wall so no one could see her. “God, I'm happy for Judy. Everybody's pregnant now—first Nicole and now Judy. I want a child, from my own body. Please heal my body so I can have my own child, and send Matthew to me. I'm tired of being by myself. I want to be happy like Judy and Nicole. I want a family like my brother. You promised me and I'm standing on your promises. Nevertheless, not my will, but yours, Father. In Jesus' name.” She ended her prayer when she heard the bell ring. She wiped her face, took a deep breath, and walked to her desk as the first students began filing into her classroom.

The rest of the day, that voice, that negative voice, tormented her with the thoughts that she was never going to get pregnant. The voice teased her about Matthew only being a childhood fantasy and not real. It began to almost torture her as she tried to teach her class. She tried hard to focus on her lesson for each class, yet in her silent moments the voice taunted her.

During her planning period, she spent the time praying and ate lunch in her classroom. She began to think she was jealous. She prayed against the spirit of jealousy. She didn't want to be jealous of other people's blessings. She wanted her own. She had a promise from God and He was faithful. She decided to stand on what God had told her.