The Yada Yada Prayer Group Gets Caught (15 page)

I love to worship You,
I love to worship You . . .

Somehow I missed seeing Nony come in with her two boys. But a flash of a royal blue head wrap caught my eye and there they were, sitting near the front. She, too, seemed to be embracing the words of the song with her whole self, oblivious to those around her. I didn't see Mark or Hoshi. The Japanese student must have stayed behind so Nony could make it to church.
Bless her, Jesus.
She had such a servant heart.

I love to worship You,
I love to worship You . . .

I squeezed my eyes shut.
Stop it, Jodi Baxter. Think about the words. Are you here to count noses or worship?
I kept my eyes shut and just soaked up the voices all around me, singing from their hearts. “I love to worship You . . .”

Yes, yes. I do love to worship You, Jesus.
I lifted my own arms, and found myself reaching up, up.
Yes, yes, I love to worship You . . .

But when the joint service was over a couple of hours later, I realized the missing Uptown people never did show up.

13

T
he missing Uptown people bothered me all afternoon. It was just a “brotherly” worship service with the church that was using our building, for Pete's sake! And yet, maybe the idea of a “church merger,” though only mentioned at the men's breakfast, had gotten around. Denny told me not to make too much of the absentees—after all, it was midsummer. Sunday attendance was often down this time of year.

They'd missed some great worship, though. The joint service lasted a good two and a half hours, but that still got us out around noon. Theoretically, anyway. “Hug somebody! Hug somebody!” Pastor Cobbs encouraged after the last prayer. He and Pastor Clark had shared the service, focusing on how worship itself can bring people together across our differences, because the attention is on God, not on ourselves. A good message for two churches sharing the same space, even temporarily. Most people seemed eager to stand around and talk afterward. Some kind soul from New Morning had plugged in a huge coffeepot, and I think we drained the tank, in spite of the muggy heat.

When Denny realized Yada Yada was meeting at the Douglass's apartment that evening, he called Peter and offered to liberate him, go to the Heartland Café for iced coffee or something. “I've got something I'd like to talk to you about, anyway,” I heard him say into the phone.

Denny dropped me off, along with Becky and the lopsided cake, and told us to send Peter down. Stu was driving Little Andy home after his Sunday visit, said she'd meet us there.We had to walk up to the third floor, but at least Avis and Peter's apartment was air-conditioned. “Thank ya, Jesus!” Florida said when she arrived, plopping into one of Avis's eige-and-black armchairs. “Hot day like this is a good reminder I don't wanna go to hell.Mm-mm. Avis, can I sleep on yo' couch tonight? This cool air sure does feel good.”

Frankly, I was kinda surprised Avis and Peter had decided to stay in her apartment after they got married—the same apartment where Avis and her first husband, Conrad Johnson II, had lived happily with an “empty nest.” But it was a lovely apartment, nestled among the tops of the elms lining the narrow street, with polished wood floors, bookshelves covering whole walls, pictures of her grandkids, and framed artwork. Just being there made me feel so . . . peaceful, even when it filled up with our motley crew of Yada Yada sisters.

And fill it up we did! Even Nony and Hoshi. A couple from New Morning Church had offered to visit Mark that evening, Nony explained. “Mark would be livid if he suspected he was being babysat,” she added sheepishly. “I convinced him Sister Debra and Brother Sherman had come to play with the boys.”

Debra and Sherman Meeks.Of course.
The sweet older couple from New Morning just went up another two notches in my estimation.

A conversation in rapid Spanish floated up the stairwell, then Delores and Edesa burst into the apartment. Edesa immediately kicked off her sandals and padded across Avis's wood floor in her bare feet.
“Edesa's birthday? ”
Delores Enriques mouthed at me, her back to the younger woman.

“Sí,”
I whispered, using up half of my Spanish vocabulary.

The black Honduran college student spun around on her bare feet, arms wide as she gazed admiringly at the spacious front room. “Ah. Someday I will have an apartment like this, so
mi familia
can come to visit. My apartment is—how do you say?
Pequeño,
like a dollhouse.”

“You are so tiny,
mi hermana
, a dollhouse is all you need.” Delores gave me a wink. One birthday celebration, coming up.

I was surprised to see Ruth, though.Wasn't she supposed to be on bed rest? She arrived muttering and out of breath. “Would an elevator be asking too much? ” She collapsed into another overstuffed armchair. “Next time, Yada Yada better be ground level, or Ruth and her cargo stay home.”

Yo-Yo, bringing up the rear, hooted. “Yo, Ruth. Cussing out each stair in Yiddish didn't help any.”

Ruth sniffed. “I wasn't cussing.”

“Ha. I know cussing when I hear it. No matter what language. ” Yo-Yo plopped on the floor beside Ruth.

I tried not to laugh.
Ruth's “cargo.”
She better tell the big news to the rest of Yada Yada tonight. I, for one, couldn't keep my mouth shut much longer. And I knew Florida was itching to spill the beans.

Chanda was the last to arrive. “Dat taxi could be taking me to de moon an' back, as much he charged,” she complained. “Don' know no babysitter in me new place, had to drop off Thomas and de girls at me sister's place.” But her face brightened. “Soon as mi get settled, Yada Yada can meet at
mi
'ouse, what you tink? ”

“We'd love to meet in your new home, Chanda.” Avis took a seat in an elegant rocker that breathed
antique
, while the rest of us found places to sit or perch on her modern beige-and-black furniture. “We have a little celebration tonight, but I thought I would read a scripture to encourage all of us.” Avis reached for her modernlanguage Bible. The rustling around the room hushed.

“From Isaiah 44 . . . ‘Listen to me, Jacob my servant, Israel my chosen one. The Lord who made you and helps you says: O Jacob, my servant, do not be afraid. O Israel, my chosen one, do not fear. For I will give you abundant water to quench your thirst and to moisten your parched fields. And I will pour out my Spirit and my blessings on your children. They will thrive like watered grass, like willows on a riverbank. Some will proudly claim, “I belong to the Lord.” Others will say, “I am a descendant of Jacob.” Some will write the Lord's name on their hands and will take the honored name of Israel as their own.'”

I grinned. I had told Avis what I'd found out about Edesa's name, and she'd found the perfect scripture. I glanced toward the door into Avis's dining room where Becky was waiting to bring in the cake—but sudden sobbing from Ruth's armchair caught me off guard. Becky peeked into the room, looking confused.

We all gaped at Ruth. “Ruth? ” Avis said gently. “Are you all right? ”

Ruth nodded, rummaging in her roomy bag for a wad of tissues. She cried and blew her nose and cried some more. Sitting on the floor by her feet,Yo-Yo looked worried. Delores, sitting next to her, put an arm around Ruth's shoulder and prayed quietly to herself, her lips moving.

Ruth blew her nose again and dabbed at her blotchy face. “Don't mind me. I'm not dying. It's just that scripture . . . where is that, Avis? ”

“Chapter 44 of Isaiah.”

“Read that part again about ‘blessings on the children.' ”

Avis nodded. “Let's see . . . verses three and four. ‘I will pour out my Spirit and my blessings on your children. They will thrive like watered grass, like willows on a riverbank.' ”

“And the next part,” Ruth insisted.

“All right. ‘Some will proudly claim, ‘I belong to the Lord. ' Others will say, ‘I am a descendant of Jacob.' Some will write the Lord's name on their hands and will take the honored name of Israel as their own.' ”

Ruth beamed through her tears. “That's my promise! My children will thrive like watered grass, like willows by a riverbank. And they'll treasure their Jewish heritage too. And write Yahweh's name on their hearts.”

“Your
children
? ” Yo-Yo grinned up at Ruth. “You an' Ben plannin' to pop more kids in the cooker?

”

I winced. Yo-Yo's teasing of Ruth needed to stop. I opened my mouth to say something, but Ruth patted her tummy under the dark, shapeless dress she was wearing. “Already did. Doc says it's twins.”

She said it so matter-of-factly, nobody reacted for a full two seconds. Then—Chanda screeched. “Say again, Sista Ruth? You got an A an' B selection in dere? ”

That cracked everyone up, and suddenly we were all talking at once. After several minutes of laughing, hugging, and shaking heads,Adele took charge of the conversation. “How's Ben taking it, Ruth? Seems like this good news could be a major challenge for you two. I oughta know. Taking care of MaDear is like having a toddler around the house, and it ain't no picnic at
my
age.”
And I'm younger than you are
hung unspoken in the air.

The room fell silent. Ruth studied the ceiling and tapped her foot. “Oh. Uh . . .” She cleared her throat. “Ben doesn't know yet.”

I couldn't believe it! Apparently, neither could the rest of the Yada Yadas, who opened their collective mouths and gasped, “He doesn't know? !” But Avis rescued Ruth from a corporate scolding and moved us directly to prayer, thanking God for the new life He had created, praying protection for Ruth's health, asking God's grace to cover the challenging situation facing Ben and Ruth. Since we were already in prayer mode, Avis suggested we delay our celebration a few minutes and add other prayer requests.

“Well, I got one,” Becky said, still leaning in the doorway between front room and dining room. “Can anybody get me a job? Parole officer says I can work, but somebody gotta set up an appointment for me first; can't just go out lookin'.”

Yo-Yo snorted. “Yeah. Never woulda got my job at the Bagel Bakery if Ruth hadn't—hey!” Yo-Yo jumped to her feet. “The Bagel Bakery needs a counter girl! Why didn't I . . .” She whirled on Ruth. “Ruth! Ya think ya could, ya know, put in a good word for Becky? ”

Ruth shrugged, seemingly relieved that her pregnancy was out of the spotlight. “Sure, sure.Why not? I'm already dangling on the edge of a limb. Might as well saw it off—ack!” Ruth struggled under Becky's embrace, as our newest excon threw her arms around Ruth's neck from behind the couch.

So we prayed for a job for Becky and threw in Florida's plea that the Hickmans would get approved by Section Eight for the house rental they'd found over near Clark Street. “Just a couple of blocks from Adele's Hair and Nails. Won't have any excuse lookin' like somethin' the cat drug in,” she snickered. “An' if we get approved, we movin' in two weeks. Gotta get the kids registered in they new schools 'fore school starts.”

New schools? Well, of course. Chris was in high school, Cedric in middle school, Carla in—

Whoa!
Would that put Carla Hickman in the Bethune Elementary school district? She'd be going into fourth grade, not third, but still, that'd be great if Florida could have one of her kids in Avis's school.

If the school board didn't axe the school first. Or my job.

After prayers,Becky finally brought out her cake, complete with flaming candles, and we sang “Happy Birthday” to Edesa. She seemed genuinely surprised. Well, OK, her birthday had been a week and a half ago. She probably thought we'd forgotten. “Sorry we're late,” I said, giving her a hug.

“Oh, no, it's wonderful.” Edesa's dark eyes misted even as her smile widened. “Birthdays in my village in Honduras are not so important. In my family, I have two brothers and three sisters younger than myself. I am the oldest.No money for parties or gifts. Everything goes to send us to school.”

“Blow, Edesa!” Becky butted in. “Candles almost drowning in the frosting!”

She blew, we laughed, Becky cut the cake—which tasted like chocolate-coated sugar—and I brought out the card we'd all been signing surreptitiously under Edesa's nose. I'd found a picture of Niagara Falls on the Internet and printed it out on heavy paper. “Edesa, if you know a different meaning of your name, you better tell me now! Because the closest I could find was . . . Avis, could you read that verse from Isaiah again? Listen for the clue.”

Avis found the verse again. “For I will give you abundant water to quench your thirst and to moisten your parched fields. And I will pour out my Spirit and my blessings on your children. They will thrive like watered grass, like willows on a riverbank.”