The Yada Yada Prayer Group Gets Decked Out
Other novels in the Yada Yada series:
The Yada Yada Prayer Group
, book 1
The Yada Yada Prayer Group Gets Down
, book 2
The Yada Yada Prayer Group Gets Real
, book 3
The Yada Yada Prayer Group Gets Tough
, book 4
The Yada Yada Prayer Group Gets Caught
, book 5
The Yada Yada Prayer Group Gets Rolling
, book 6
© 2007 by Neta Jackson.
All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any meansâelectronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, scanning or otherâexcept for brief quotations in critical reviews or articles, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
Published in Nashville, Tennessee by Thomas Nelson. Thomas Nelson is a trademark of Thomas Nelson, Inc.
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Thomas Nelson, Inc. titles may be purchased in bulk for educational, business, fund-raising, or sales promotional use. For information, please e-mail [email protected].
Scripture quotations are taken from the following: THE HOLY BIBLE, NEW INTERNATIONAL VERSION
®
(NIV). Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984 by International Bible Society. Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved.
The Holy Bible, New Living Translation, copyright © 1996, 2004. Used by permission of Tyndale House Publishers, Inc.,Wheaton, Illinois 60189. All rights reserved.
The New King James Version
®
. Copyright © 1982 by Thomas Nelson, Inc. Used by permission. All rights reserved.
This novel is a work of fiction. Any references to real events, businesses, organizations, and locales are intended only to give the fiction a sense of reality and authenticity. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
ISBN 13: 978-1-59554-361-9
CIP has been applied for.
Printed in the United States of America
07 08 09 10 11 RRD 6 5 4 3 2 1
CONTENTS
U. S. To Metric Conversion Table
For Dave
without whose love, patience, encouragement,
and takeover of the Jackson kitchen
this novella would never be
T
he steady
ding-a-ling
of the Salvation Army bell down the street punctuated the Christmas lust of the three boys gawking into the window of the game store. “Look, they got PlayStation Portable! That's what I want, man. 'Member those ads we saw on TV, JJ?
Awesome
graphics.”
“Ha! Look how much it cost. That PSP is over two hundred bucks! How you gonna get that, Boomer?”
Boomer, almost as tall as his thirteen-year-old cousin even though he was two grades younger, shrugged inside his bulky jacket. “I dunno. Ask for it for Christmas.Why not?”
The older boy snorted. “Yeah, right. Yo' mama ain't gonna spring for no two hundred bucks. 'Specially when she finds out you ain't home,
grounded
like she said when you cut class yesterday.”
“She ain't gonna find out 'less
you
tell her, JJ. She at work.”
The third boy snickered.
Boomer glared at his cousin's friend. “Don't you start, Mitch. C'mon, let's go in. I wanna check out the new games.”
The three middle school boys pushed their way into the crowded store, jackets unzipped, knit caps pulled over their ears, wet gym shoelaces dragging. The week after Thanksgiving had followed early winter's treacherous trend: first a drizzling rain, then freezing temperatures, then a light snow to dust the icy sidewalks and streets. Shoppers filled the aisles of the game store, even though it was a weeknight. With only “24 Shopping Days till Christmas,” stores were open all over Chicago until ten at night, every night.
Boomer pulled back the hood of his sweatshirt layered under his sport jacket as he paused in front of the big display featuring the new game console:
Sony PlayStation Portable! Get it while
supplies last!
“Oh, man, you think they gonna run out 'fore Christmas?”
His cousin, the bottoms of his baggy jeans hanging wet around his ankles, rolled his eyes.“C'mon. You wanted ta look at the games. Oh, hey, dudes! Look at
this
.” JJ snatched up a game under a sign that screamed,
Grand Theft Auto: Liberty City Stories! New!
Mitch punched his shoulder. “Forget it, JJ. See that âM'? That means âMature.' Ya gotta be eighteen ta buy it.”
“That sucks.” JJ turned it over to
read the back.
The other two boys sauntered along the game shelves, the intense cover graphics competing for attention. Boomer pounced. “Oh, man. This is the one I want. Forty bucks. That ain't so much.”
“What's that?” Mitch looked over his shoulder.
Boomer's eyes glowed. “
Ridge Racer.
Driving simulator. Really cool, man. I played it onceâ”
“Lemme see that.” Coming up behind them, JJ grabbed the game, read the fine print, then waved it in his cousin's face. “Ha. Even if you
had
forty bucks, ya gotta have a PSP to use it.”
“So? Told ya I'mâ”
“Man comin',” Mitch hissed.
A store clerk in a rumpled white shirt hugging a paunch headed toward them, pushing past other customers until he stood in their way. “You boys buying?”
Boomer put on a smile. “Just lookin', mister.”
“Well, look someplace else. Go on, git. An' keep your hands off the merchandise.”
JJ shrugged. “Oh, all right. C'mon guys. Let's go.”
Boomer looked at his cousin in surprise. JJ wasn't one to be pushed around. He'd expected some lip.
Out on the sidewalk, JJ headed up Clark Street at a fast clip, zigzagging around other early-evening shoppers. “Hey, wait up, JJ! Where you goin' so fast?” Mitch and Boomer scurried after him, pulling up their sweatshirt hoods and zipping their jackets, hunched against a smart wind off the lake. “What's his problem?” Mitch mumbled as JJ turned the corner at the next intersection, walking fast.
When they'd left the bright streetlights and storefronts along Clark Street, JJ turned to his two companions. “Man! He never even saw it!” Gleefully, he pulled something out of his jacket. Even in the dimmer light along the side street, Boomer could see the title:
Ridge Racer.
“Oh, man! How'd youâ?” Boomer's eyes widened. “Really? You just walked out with it?”
“Said you wanted it, didn't ya?” JJ tossed it at his cousin.
Boomer caught it. “Yeah, but . . .” He held the treasured game hungrily.
Mitch giggled nervously. “Man, oh man. You could a got us all in big trouble back there, JJ.” He laughed harder. “Ooo, JJ, you one slick dude.”
JJ punched Boomer on the shoulder. “So, how 'bout a little gratitude, huh?”
Boomer frowned. “Thanks . . . I guess. 'Cept I can't play it with-out that PSP console.”
JJ glanced down the street and suddenly pulled Boomer and Mitch into the shadows. “Well now, maybe we can fix that too.”
“Whatchu mean?” Boomer craned his neck, following JJ's gaze.
All he saw was a woman getting out of a car, carrying several boxes.
“Look how that lady carryin' her purse,” JJ murmured.
Even in the dim streetlights along the residential street, the boys could see the woman's purse slung over one shoulder, swinging freely.
“Oh, man.” Mitch's breathing got heavy. “But she's white, JJ.”
“So? White women carry green money. Credit cards too.”
“Hey, wait.” Boomer grabbed JJ's jacket sleeve. “I don't want no trouble. I'm in enough already with my mom.”
“You wanna play that video game or not, Boomer?” JJ jerked his arm away. “Now come on.” He headed out of the shadows, running lightly on the snow-covered sidewalk. An adrenaline rush of excitement drowning his apprehension, Boomer followed in his cousin's wake, Mitch tight on his heels as they closed the distance to the woman walking ahead of them.
With one smooth move, JJ jerked the purse from the woman's shoulder and kept going. The jerk caused the woman to spin on the slippery sidewalk and she fell sideways, the boxes in her arms flying in all directions. “Run!” yelled JJ.
