“Faith and Elise, please have a seat or exit the church,” my father commanded.
“Nah, they good. Go ‘head and say what you gotta say. Ain’t nobody in here crazy enough to touch my sisters,” Essex calmly announced from his seat.
The whispers in the church grew louder, and Faith looked at me. I nodded, giving her the green light. It was truly her story to lay out to the public if that were her choice.
“What do they say about the hidden or forgotten daughter? You stand up there every Sunday and Wednesday night delivering undeniably powerful sermons while hiding a mountain of secrets. How long has the devil had his vise-like grip on you?” Faith sassed, her neck rolling.
“Faith…”
“No! I’m talking. If you aren’t answering the question, be quiet!” she jumped in before our father could finish whatever he was about to say, anguish lacing her tone.
“Faith Elaine Mitchell!” Her mother, who was really her grandmother, stood from the choir stand.
“No, ma. I’ve lived with this secret since I was in the fifth grade. It’s been eating me up all of these years and you guys could care less,” she vented, on the brink of tears. I gently rubbed my hands up and down her back in an act of comfort.
“Pastor Hunter, I’ll ask again. About how long has the devil had his vise-like grip on you? I know for at least thirty-five years now. That’s when you got my mom pregnant.”
The church gasped, and Faith snapped around to scan the congregation. “And I’m not referring to my mama Jean. I’m talking about my biological mother, Michelle. And Ma,” Faith’s eyes landed on Mrs. Jean, then she diverted her attention to Michelle. “They never stopped messing around.”
“What?” My mother jolted from her seat and grilled Michelle. “Is this true?” She questioned, stepping towards the choir.
“That’s not true!” My father argued and stormed down the few steps, headed in our direction. “Faith!” He growled, barreling towards us like a raging bull with a slight limp.
The steam permeating off my father told me he might have lost his mind. His pointer finger raised towards Faith the closer he got. His furious stride was thwarted when Essex stood to his feet. My father stared him down, and Essex’s silent gaze communicated that he would happily lay him down if he thought he was going to touch her.
“This show is better than any reality TV I would’ve woke up to Nariyah watching this morning,” Essex grinned, glancing down at Faith. “Go ‘head, sis. Finish your speech. What else you got to say? This your pulpit for the morning. He ain’t doing nothing but lying while standing in it anyway,” he encouraged her.
In a way, I regretted standing up because I was the only one with a sliver of sense between the three of us. Faith grinned and dramatically fluffed out her shirt before continuing.
“So like I was saying,” she smacked her lips and started emphasizing each word with her hands. “I was deprived of a relationship with my father, my siblings, and forced to hold secrets that no child should carry for irresponsible adults. For years, I watched Pastor Hunter show up for everything pertaining to Elise and Essex, knowing that I’d never experience the love they did. Elise and I were somehow assigned roommates during our freshman year of college, and it ate me alive to be in such close proximity to Pastor Hunter, knowing the familial link,” her voice cracked, and my heart shattered for Faith. She was so resilient. Instead of Faith allowing her tears to swallow her whole, she made a joke to mask the pain.
“Although Elise tells me it’s not all that I thought it was cracked up to be,” she threw her hands up. “I still should’ve had it. And that’s Elise’s story to tell. I’m only here to tell mine, andI’d like to emphasize that I’m not a liar, but y’all pastor is! My biggest gripe with both of my biological parents is the fact that I was the result of their affair, and they were so quick to distance themselves from me, only to continue their affair for all of these years. My paternity was a secret, so they could continue to creep in peace. So, Sista Hunter, while you were silently condoning your husband not claiming me, he was still holding onto his mistress. Say I’m lying again, Pastor Hunter. I helped Michelle install her Ring cameras before I distanced myself from her a few weeks ago, and I still have access to them. Sista Hunter, do you know where Pastor was on Thursday around two o’clock in the afternoon?”
That set my mother off, and she ran towards Michelle, whacking her over the head with the bible in her hand. Michelle sat there without an ounce of self defense in her, and took the first knock without even throwing her hands up. My mother snatched Michelle up by her silk press, and they tumbled to the floor, rolling around behind the pulpit. The entire church was on their feet, gasping, and shouting. A few women from the choir jumped down to get my mother off Michelle, but she wasn’t letting up. My father quickly hobbled over to them, probably re-injuring his knee trying to get to the melee.
“At least know how to fight if you’re going to be screwing somebody’s man, Michelle!” Faith shouted, cupping her hands around her mouth to amplify her words.
“Noreen! That’s enough!” My father shouted once he was standing over the melee, garnering my mother’s attention.
She finally ceased her arms from swinging, and one of the women helped her stand up straight. My mother fixed her dress and brushed her disheveled hair out of her face. Michelle weakly sobbed on the ground, holding her right eye that had taken the most damage. “Go to the back, Noreen.”
Like the bobble head Essex often called her, she nodded, offered a forced smile, and sashayed towards the back hallway. My father turned to face his congregation while the choir helped a sobbing Michelle off the ground and towards the back bathroom.
“Sunday service is canceled for the day.” My father announced, turning to face his congregation. “This is a private family matter, and it will be handled as such. In the meantime, I will not allow this sanctuary to turn into a place of chaos. Thank you all for coming out this morning and entrusting my church for all of these years. I ask that you not rush to judgment, as the devil is enjoying the disorder. Before we get out of here, please let us all bow our heads and pray.” He stammered before bowing his head.
“Hold off on your prayer until I too step up out of here. My Uber has arrived, and I’d rather have my online pastor pray over me this morning,” Faith raised her fingers and shuffled out of the pew.
I followed suit, and Essex was right behind us. My adrenaline was still pumping, and it felt like I was floating as we exited the church.
“We make quite the trio, huh?” Faith bubbled.
“We do. I nodded. Are you okay?”
“I’m actually better than I have been since I was in the fifth grade. Getting that off my chest was more than I ever could’ve imagined. My therapist had me write a letter to Michelle and Pastor Hunter to get my feelings off my chest. She wanted me to be emotionally stable enough to handle whatever response they gave me before I approached them. But after last night, I couldn’t wait any longer. I was bursting at the seams. Especially after you texted and told me they wouldn’t open the door to talk to you,” Faith divulged.
“Cancel your Uber. Let’s go grab breakfast and spend a little time in person. We want to get to know adult Faith. The version of Faith that’s in therapy and working through her issues,” Essex suggested.
“I’d like that. It’s all I ever wanted. To know my family as family. Not as classmates, or the pastor,” she sniveled.
