The Other Half of My Heart (16 page)

Keira snorted, sending them into another fit. The bottle
bounced on the bed between them. Minni laughed so hard she gave herself the hiccups.

“What’s going on up there?”

Minni bolted upright. Grandmother Johnson’s voice worked like her pills. They both knocked the air right out of you.

The door below cracked open. “Minerva, have you showered?”

Minni opened her mouth to speak, but all that came out was a hiccup.

“She’ll be down in a minute,” Keira said.

The door closed and Grandmother Johnson clip-clopped away.

“She really knows how to
make a stink,”
Keira said. They clapped their palms over their mouths and laughed some more.

“That’s because she’s so full of
hot air,”
Minni replied. More giggles.

How would they get through the rest of the day—the rest of the trip, for that matter—without breaking into inexplicable laughter at the slightest mention of anything gas-or odor-related? Grandmother Johnson would never stand for the rudeness of such outbursts. And if Keira snorted in church, Minni didn’t know what their grandmother might do.

Keira’s arms flopped from her stomach to the bed. She let out one last giggle and sighed. Hearing the air rush from her sister’s lungs helped Minni to exhale, too. Her stomach muscles finally relaxed.

“I’ve got an idea.” Keira’s eyebrows danced the way they did when she was thinking something devious. “Grandmother Johnson may need some gas relief while we’re at church. We’ll just slip a couple of these into her oatmeal—”

“Yes!” Minni sat up. “After yesterday, she deserves it.” They grinned at each other.

Justice for Grandmother Gasbag Johnson.

Sweet, sweet justice
.

A
ll
the way to church, Minni worked hard not to look at Keira or think about the plot they had executed flawlessly. Keira had dropped in the pills and Minni had given the cereal a quick stir while their grandmother retrieved something from the kitchen. She had eaten the whole bowl without comment or a single raise of The Eyebrow. Keira had returned the medicine to the bathroom before they left the house.

As they drove along, Grandmother Johnson’s stomach gurgled like a swamp monster. Each time, she let out a small gasp of surprise. Minni pressed her lips together, stared out the window and pretended she hadn’t heard a thing.

Finally, they arrived at the church—Good Shepherd African Methodist Episcopal. The front rose steeply toward the sky, solid as a rock-climbing wall, with big, castlelike wooden doors. Families with boys in suits and girls in frilly dresses, couples and older people came from all directions.

Grandmother Johnson parked in a gravel lot a block away. Before getting out, she reached across the seat to
the mystery box she’d brought to the car. She removed the lid and pulled out a hat covered in spiky white feathers. Somewhere a crested ibis was flying around with a naked behind.

She put on the hat and with four quick jabs pinned it to her head. “Let’s go. No dillydallying.” Her stomach rumbled again. “Ooo,” she said, holding her belly. “The oatmeal’s not settling so well today.”

Keira smirked at Minni, who clambered out of the car. She didn’t know how long she could maintain her poker face.

“She looks like she’s wearing a feather duster on her head,” Keira whispered as they followed behind.

“And a nurse’s uniform,” Minni whispered back. Grandmother Johnson was dressed completely in white.

She strode ahead of them down the sidewalk, commanding them to keep up. Her dress, gloves and hat feathers glowed in the humid gray air. Minni watched the sky, expecting any second to be dive-bombed by a flock of angry seagulls avenging one of their own.

“Deacon Barnes,” Grandmother Johnson said with a curt nod to a man on the front steps.

“Deaconess Johnson,” he said, tipping his hat.

They passed through the large front doors into a reception area. People milled about, chatting and laughing. All the women wore fancy dresses. Two boys in suits chased each other. No one wore a hat that looked like a blow-dried bird.

A picture of a husband and wife hung on the wall. Minni
could tell they were married by the way the woman leaned into the man and had her hand on his shoulder. An engraved gold plaque read,
THE REVEREND DR. JAMES JULIUS AND HIS FIRST LADY
.

Grandmother Johnson stopped to talk to another woman. Minni peered through the propped-open door that led to the inner part of the church—the part that had rows of pews all facing the front and a kind of stage with a podium. The part that made you feel like you had to be quiet. The
altar
, Minni seemed to recall it was called.

A large stained-glass picture high on the wall over the altar showed a brown-skinned shepherd with a staff in his hand and sheep around his feet. A light glowed around his curly black hair as if the sun were coming up behind his head. Was the shepherd Jesus?

She didn’t really know much about Jesus, except that he was supposed to be God’s son. She’d never seen him pictured with brown skin but she liked the idea that he could change colors depending on where he was, like a chameleon. She’d like to be able to do that.

“This way,” Grandmother Johnson said, walking toward the open door. A smiling man handed them each a folded program; then a lady in white gloves led them down the aisle, keeping one hand locked behind her back. Grandmother Johnson held her chin high and walked the red carpet as though she were on a runway in Paris.

The cavernous space smelled of varnish, old carpet and the dust, sweat and tears of at least five generations. The woman led them farther and farther down the aisle until
Minni was afraid she was taking them to the pews on the altar, next to the man who had just come out to play the organ.

Just before they reached the front, the lady stopped and held out her hand—her other hand still firmly behind her back—directing them to sit in the second row. Grandmother Johnson went in first, pulling Keira in beside her. Minni scooted in last.

The lone woman in the front row sat in her seat as if it had been hers since the day God had made the earth. Her hat was the only one in the place that rivaled Grandmother Johnson’s in its plumage. With all the yellow feathers and netting, it looked as though she had a whole flock of chicks nesting on her head.

A girl, old enough to be in high school, came and sat next to the lady. Minni got a glimpse of the woman’s profile. This wasn’t just any lady. It was the lady from the picture in the reception area—the
first
lady! Minni didn’t know what that meant exactly, but if she had the same name as the president’s wife she must be pretty important.

Several women and men in long blue robes filed out from a side door up front. The choir, Minni figured.

Then a large man in a black robe came out and stepped to the podium. She recognized him from the picture as well. The Reverend Dr. James Julius. He asked them to stand and then he said some fancy words and everyone read some words together off the program—except for Keira, who didn’t like to read out loud, and Minni, who stayed quiet so her sister wouldn’t feel alone. Then Grandmother Johnson
handed them a big book opened to a song and the organ cranked up, and everyone sang, except for Minni and Keira again.

Minni couldn’t see around the first lady very well. She wondered how many people didn’t have a clear view of the reverend doctor because of Grandmother Johnson’s hat. The song ended and everyone sat.

“Now is the time in our service when we welcome all those who are joining us for the first time.” The reverend doctor smiled and held out his hand in their direction. “Deaconess Johnson, would you like to introduce your guests?”

Minni’s heart banged against the walls of her chest as if it were trying to run from the church, which was what
she
felt like doing. Her palms turned moist, and if she didn’t calm down quickly, her pits would soon have everyone around her wondering who had brought an overripe cantaloupe into church.

Grandmother Johnson rose to her feet like snow-covered Mount Rainier. “Stand up,” she said under her breath. “Giving all honor to God, the reverend doctor and his first lady, and all my fellow saints here today…”

Minni swallowed, trying to unstick her dry mouth. She hoped Grandmother Johnson didn’t expect her and Keira to say a bunch of fancy words like that.

“I have the pleasure of having my granddaughters with me this week. This is Minerva”—she reached across Keira and touched Minni’s shoulder, looking around the crowded room—“and Keira. They will be competing in the Miss
Black Pearl Preteen of America pageant in exactly one week from today. I invite everyone to come out and give your support.”

Please don’t!
Minni wanted to shout.

The reverend doctor welcomed them, then turned to a lady nearby who had stood while Grandmother Johnson was speaking. Minni sat, giving all honor to God that she hadn’t had to speak in front of all these people.

“Yes, Sister Russell?”

The woman stood alone. She was tall and stylish and wore a huge diamond ring.

“I want to add that my granddaughter, Alisha, will
also
be competing for the title of Miss Black Pearl Preteen.” The woman smiled at Grandmother Johnson from across the aisle.

The corners of Grandmother Johnson’s mouth turned up as well, but it was hard to tell if she was smiling or snarling. Her eyes narrowed as if she were inviting Sister Russell to duel.

After a few more introductions, the choir stood. The man at the organ played a few chords that sounded familiar. Minni couldn’t place them—until a girl in the choir started singing.

“Why should I feel discouraged?”
she began.

The sparrow song
. It sounded so much better than when she and Grandmother Johnson had practiced it.

The longer the girl sang, the more entranced Minni became. The music wrapped around her again and again until she could hardly move. It squeezed her heart so hard that a tear popped out of the corner of her eye and trickled down her cheek before she even knew what had happened.

The choir joined in on the chorus.
“I sing because I’m happy. I sing because I’m free…”

Their voices dipped, dove and soared together, like a roomful of swallows, separate and yet one. Minni wasn’t sure if heaven actually existed, but if it did it would sound like this. Like the ocean, Keira’s laughter, Mama’s singing, and Daddy’s “I’m home!” all at once.

The belting voices sliced through her and made her insides melt like one of those chocolates with the liquidy centers, until she wanted to leap up with the people around her, who swayed and shouted to the music, and at the same time fall to the ground in a puddle of tears.

This
was what the song was supposed to sound like? This was what it could make another person feel? She was at once overwhelmed with the knowledge that she could never make the song sound anything like this and inspired to give it everything she had the next time she tried.

She didn’t want the music to stop, and for a long time it didn’t. The organist kept returning to the chorus, and the soloist kept letting her voice slide up and down and all around, and people all over the church were shouting and some were even slumping to their seats and needing the ladies in white gloves to come and fan their faces.

When finally they reached the last chord, they held on to it so long that Minni expected some of the choir members themselves to faint. The choir director shook her hands in the air, encouraging the singers to keep the wall of sound
coming, and they did, like a roaring waterfall, and then, just like that, the director brought her hands down and the water fall stopped.

The entire church—even Grandmother Johnson—was on its feet, applauding. Minni and Keira stood and clapped, too. Choir members shouted out, “Hallelujah!”

The organ kept playing as the reverend doctor came to the podium. “His eye is on the sparrow!” he shouted.

“Amen!” people shouted back.

“And I know…say, ‘I know!’”

“I know!” everyone said together.

“I
know
he watches me!”

“Yes, sir!” a man exclaimed.

“If I go up to the heavens, he is there.”

“Yes!”

“If I make my bed in the depths, he is there.”

“Thank you, Jesus!”

“If I settle on the far side of the sea, even
there
his hand shall guide me, his right hand shall hold me fast!”

“Amen!” people thundered. More applause and lots of organ playing.

Minni and Keira looked at each other and smiled. Maybe this church thing wouldn’t be so bad after all. This was a whole lot more exciting than the church they’d visited in Port Townsend where everyone sat with their hands in their laps and seemed to like things very quiet, as if God were sleeping and they didn’t want to wake him.

The organ stopped and everyone finally sat, but the music had worked like a charger, connecting the place to a
giant electrical outlet, and though the room had quieted down, it was still full of energy.

The Reverend Dr. James Julius looked out at them all. “As we read in the Scriptures, God is like the hen that gathers her chicks under her wing.”

Grandmother Johnson put her fingers to her lips and belched. Not loudly enough for anyone to notice—except Minni and Keira. They looked at each other out of the corners of their eyes. Minni stifled a giggle.

The reverend doctor kept talking. The longer he went on, the more Grandmother Johnson shifted and squirmed in her seat. She crossed her legs one way and then quickly crossed them the other. At one point, the air around them turned funky. Minni grabbed the fan from the back of the pew in front of her and waved it in front of her face the way other women were doing around the church.

Meanwhile, Keira had started to shake with held-in laughter. Minni pinched her sister’s arm. She couldn’t control herself much longer. She held her breath and fanned harder. Grandmother Johnson glared at them until, thankfully, Keira got ahold of herself.

The pastor got louder and louder, and faster and faster, and Grandmother Johnson looked more and more uncomfortable, as if she were sitting on a pinecone. Then, quite unexpectedly, in the midst of the singsong rhythm he had established, the reverend doctor decided to add a dramatic pause. He stopped—just as a high-pitched squeak came from underneath Grandmother Johnson’s wide bottom.