Coming of Age in Mississippi (9 page)

Within an hour or so we were out of church and this was another thing I liked about Centreville Baptist. Mount Pleasant and the other country churches I had attended held services that lasted all day. They also kept taking up collections in the country, and here at Centreville Baptist, they took up collection only twice. As usual when church was out a lot of people stood on the church grounds talking for a while. I felt so funny standing there. It seemed as though everyone had someone to talk to but us. Mama, Adline, Junior, and I stood near the car all by ourselves. I noticed that Miss Pearl and Betty them seemed to be popular with the other church members. As Mama stood looking at them she had tears in her eyes. She had hoped that they would at least speak to her. But they pretended they didn’t even see us. Their car was parked right next
to ours. They got in and drove off without even looking in our direction. Raymond had been talking with Betty’s husband and one of the deacons. Now he came to our car and we left.

“How did y’all like Reverend Polk?” he said to no one in particular since he realized Mama was in no mood for conversation.

“Why is his hair that white?” I asked.

“It’s been like that ever since he got out of prison,” Raymond said.

“Prison! A preacher! What did he do?”

“He killed a man. Then when he was in prison he worried so his hair turned white. He was called to preach while in prison.”

“The Bible say thou shall not kill! How can he kill a man and preach what the Bible say to people?” I asked Raymond.

“Why you gotta know everything! Always asking questions all the time?” Mama said to me. I could tell she was real mad so I hushed.

I didn’t say anything else all the way home, but that didn’t stop me from thinking about Reverend Polk. He had killed a man and all he had to do was raise his hand in church and women fainted all over the place. It seemed to me, at the time, that we were going to church to listen to a killer preach the gospel of Christ. Then you sit next to your neighbors and playmates and they don’t even speak to you. This didn’t seem like church at all. Not the way of Christ anyway. Not the Christ Mama was always telling us all those good things about.

Mama never did go back to Centreville Baptist again. But Adline, Junior, and I went back the very next Sunday and every Sunday after that. It seemed as though Mama had completely resigned herself to not being accepted, yet she was determined to make Raymond’s people accept us, even in their church. Every Sunday now she made us study our Sunday school lesson just as hard as our regular homework for school each day. Within a month or so we were not only going to
Sunday school but to the eleven o’clock church services and B.T.U. (Baptist Training Union).

Later on Mama was not satisfied with us just going to Centreville Baptist, but now at every church-celebrated holiday we had to say speeches or participate in every program offered for children and teen-agers. It wasn’t always “we” that took part in the programs but it
was
always “me.” Mama gave up on Adline and Junior in the church too. They were worse in church than in school. They were always given speeches but they never did learn them in time to say them. Within a few days after I received mine, I would know it by heart. And when I said it on the program, unlike most of the other participants, I didn’t forget a word or stumble.

While we were doing all this at Centreville Baptist and winning the approval of all the church members there, Mama decided to go back to Mount Pleasant. Raymond really wanted her to join Centreville Baptist but Mama just couldn’t bring herself to sit up in the same church with Miss Pearl them. When they argued about it she would say, “You think I’m gonna join church with them
hypocrites
jus’ because
you
belong over there? Shit, they don’t even
speak
to me. Why should I go over there and give ’em sumptin’ to talk about? Be sittin’ up there lookin’ at me, rollin’ their eyes and hunchin’ and whisperin’ to each other, make me so mad I can’t even think ’bout what the preacher’s sayin’.” Raymond had no defense against what Mama said about Miss Pearl them so he’d just say, “You go on, you join church where you wanna join, go on, if you will be happier out there at Mount Pleasant then go back out there!”

Even though Mama kept hinting that she was going back to Mount Pleasant, months and months passed and she still didn’t go. I understood her feelings about Miss Pearl them, but I still wanted her to join Centreville Baptist. Since we
were
living in Centreville and Adline, Junior, and I were going to
church and Sunday school there, I thought it was crazy for Mama to go all the way back to the country to attend church. She should have gone back to Centreville Baptist
in spite
of Miss Pearl them, instead of running to Mount Pleasant and letting them know that they were getting next to her. Besides, I had gotten to the place I was really enjoying Centreville Baptist, for there, at Darlene’s own church, I was outdoing her.

Sometimes I would come in from Sunday school raving about how well I had explained the lesson and Mama wouldn’t say anything. She would just look at me. I got the feeling that she wanted me to outdo Darlene, but she still didn’t want me to enjoy Centreville Baptist too much. From the way she was acting I could tell that she wanted Adline, Junior, and me to go back to Mount Pleasant with her. So whenever I said something nice about Centreville Baptist she would say something nicer about Mount Pleasant.

Finally, that August, Mama resumed her church activities at Mount Pleasant. By this time I was so involved in Centreville Baptist that I had made up my mind that I definitely would not join her church no matter what. So when Mama told us to get ready to go to Mount Pleasant one Sunday morning, I didn’t say a word. Since she had told me that we’d go out to Aunt Cindy’s after church, and had got me thinking of all the fun we had always had playing in the woods out there, I figured it would be worth it even if I had to sit up in church half the day. “Besides,” I thought, “she can’t
make
me join church out there.”

As Raymond drove up to Mount Pleasant, I saw that just as I expected things hadn’t changed much. It was a gloomy day and the graveyard looked just like it did when I used to sit up in school and count the tombstones. Automatically my eyes were drawn from the tombstones to that little raggly school building. The cracks in the wood seemed even larger now and the whole school looked like it was about to collapse. I was sure it was no longer used, but as Raymond parked the car in front of the church, I saw through the open door that
they still had Sunday school for the smaller children there. Mama, Adline, Junior, and I got out of the car. As I watched Raymond drive off with Jennie Ann in his lap and James on the seat beside him, I was more aware than ever that we were two families living under the same roof.

We went inside the church and sat on the back seats. Sunday school classes for teen-agers and adults were being conducted up front. I watched the teen-ager class for a while and noticed that none of them said anything. Their minds seemed to be far away. The old lady who was teaching them kept mumbling the lesson as if she was talking to herself. “And Mama want me to come to Sunday school out here!” I thought, remembering our lively discussions at Centreville Baptist.

In a little while, Sunday school ended, and the church began to fill up with adults. Mama knew nearly everybody who walked in. She smiled and waved like she had come home from a long vacation or something. When the adults were all seated, church started. The new minister, Reverend Tyson, was short, dark, and soft-spoken, just the opposite of Reverend Cason. He gave a brief sermon and then talked about revival which would be starting in a week. The look Mama gave me when he mentioned “revival” made me suspicious of why she came back to church the month before baptism.

As soon as the sermon was over, came the first collection. I sat through two collections but when they started a third, I decided that it was time for me to take a break. Since Reverend Tyson’s sermon was only about twenty minutes long, I had thought that Mount Pleasant had gotten “modern,” like Centreville Baptist, and would let us out early. Now I saw that I was wrong, so I went out back of the church to the same old toilet I used to escape to when I was in school there. I discovered that some of the carvings I had made of Reverend Cason over six years ago were still on the walls. On my way back I met one of Aunt Cindy’s daughters and we stayed outside talking for two hours or so, standing under the oak tree near the toilet.

When I thought they were almost through taking up collections, I went back inside the church.

As I entered, Deacon Brown was just beginning still another collection, this time for the “sick and invalid.” I stood in the back of the church, trying to decide whether to stay or not.

“Sisters and brothers, we’ve heard the good minister preach here today,” Deacon Brown was shouting, “and it was a good sermon, wasn’t it?”

“Yes … Sure was … Thank the Lord,” several old sisters answered.

“Well now, we should be glad and thankful to the Lord that we’re
able
to come out and hear Brother Tyson today.”

“Yes, Lord … Yes, Lord.”

“And you all know that we’re much more fortunate than those brothers and sisters of ours who are lyin’ in their beds sick today.”

“Yes, Lord.”

“And you all know of our beloved Sister Turner who’s been on her sickbed for many many months now.…”

“Yes.”

“Let us dig into our pockets and show Sister Turner that we’re thinkin’ of her. I’m gonna start this collection with a dollar. I want all y’all out there to match this dollar. Come on now, let’s show Sister Turner how we feel about her.”

“Here’s my dollar, brother,” someone called.

“And mine … Fifty cents over here.”

In a few minutes Deacon Brown had raised about twelve dollars. Now he was calling for fifteen dollars. When he got fifteen dollars and thirty-six cents he tried to make it twenty dollars. Just as I was leaving to go back outside I saw Mama having a serious conversation with old Sister Jones who was now sitting beside her. I knew that she was trying to get Mama to get me to join Mount Pleasant.

Usually during revival season older sisters of the church recruited candidates for baptism and Sister Jones always outdid the others. During revival she went from house to
house, hopping on her stick, trying to get members with un-baptized teen-agers to have them join the church. A lot of parents got their children to join by telling them that Sister Jones would put the “bad mouth” on them if they didn’t. Now there was Mama nodding her head to everything Sister Jones was saying.

“I just bet Mama’s gonna tell me Sister Jones say I oughta join church,” I thought. “Well, I’m not! I ain’t scared of that old witch! I’m goin’ to join Centreville Baptist.”

I went back outside, trying to convince myself that Sister Jones didn’t have any power to put a “bad mouth” on people. I was walking back toward the big tree over by the toilet. As I came up to it I felt sick. I told myself that it was only hunger. I didn’t want to believe that I was scared.

About four-thirty church finally let out. Unlike Centreville Baptist, Mama had lots of friends to talk to here. She had been born in the Mount Pleasant vicinity and had been a member of Mount Pleasant Church since she was fourteen. She had attended church regularly until we moved to Centreville. “She belongs here,” I thought to myself, “and rightfully so, but not me.”

Before Raymond came, Mama pointed out about fifty people who she said were our “cousins” or something. It seemed like just about everybody out there was kin to us one way or another. I knew she was introducing me to all of them to try and make me feel like I belonged out there too. But I didn’t know anybody but Aunt Cindy them and I didn’t want to know the rest.

All that following week leading up to revival, I tried to avoid Mama. Every time I came within hearing distance she’d start nagging me to join Mount Pleasant. To get out of her way, I went to pick cotton for one of the neighboring farmers. But she always managed to corner me somehow.

“Looka there! Looka there! Walkin’ round here
pokin’
your
mouth out. Can’t nobody say
nothin’
to you. You better go
join
church!” Mama would scold.

“I’m goin’ to join church, but I’m not goin’ to join Mount Pleasant! Shoot, why should we go out there, we go to Centreville Baptist every Sunday, we go to Sunday school, church, and everything. Why don’t you change
your
membership?” I said angrily.

“Don’t you tell
me
where to join church. When you ’spect to join Centreville Baptist? They don’t baptize till way next year. You be thirteen years old next month! I ain’t responsible for your sins after you reach twelve. Sister Jones was just tellin’ me ’bout some girl who …”

“Sister Jones! What
she
got to do with this? She’s always tryin’ to run everybody’s life.”

“Don’t you sass that old woman! God’ll put a curse on you this minute!”

When Mama saw that her nagging didn’t help she stopped. Revival started Monday of the following week and every day I expected her to try and get me to go. When Wednesday passed and she still didn’t say anything about going, I was sure she had given up. Next day, Thursday, I walked around the house singing and beaming in the thought that I had beat her down. For the first time in days I sat at the same table with her.

“Ray, I want you to drive us out to revival tomorrow night,” Mama said casually. “Reverend Bridge gonna preach out there.”

“So
that’s
why she cooked all this good food,” I thought. “Who is Reverend Bridge?” I asked, thinking he must be someone like Sister Jones.

“You heard ’bout that minister who everybody go hear preach those sermons ’bout dry bones and the eagle stirred his nest. He’s the best preacher they got around.”

“Oh,
that’s
Reverend Bridge, hmm? I didn’t know they were goin’ to have him at Mount Pleasant.” I sat there and thought for a while. I knew Mama was just trying to impress me that
such famous ministers came to Mount Pleasant, so that I would be tempted to go to revival. I
was
tempted, too. I was really curious about the famous Reverend Bridge. “Besides,” I thought, “it’s the last night of revival and nobody can
make
me join.”