Let the Church Say Amen

Words by Nikita C. Anderson

Art by Yaleeza Patchett

"...Everywhere I go, I'm gonna let it shine, oh ..." The words bellowed from Community Baptist Church as the doors of the sanctuary opened slowly. Silas could feel the eyes of his mother and uncle on him as he stepped aside so that they could enter the church. He struggled to put on his white gloves as Tommy, another youth usher a few years older than Silas, came and escorted his mom and uncle to their seats. Tommy was one of the first friends Silas made upon his family’s move to Gary, Indiana. He was 12 and tall for his age, so tall it was clear he was outgrowing his navy blue suit. Tommy tugged at his red bowtie, clearly uncomfortable. Silas redirected his attention back to manning the entrance. He could hear the heavy sigh of his uncle as they walked past him. They were late. Silas knew his uncle hated being late for church; he never wanted to miss any of it, and it was clear that they had already missed Uncle Seymour’s favorite part of service, the marching in of the choir. As a former military man, Uncle Seymour loved seeing folks move in unison, especially as they strutted into the beat of the organ. It gave him a sense of pride, he often said. Silas looked down at his gloved hands crossed in front of him. He too appreciated tradition. Something about the white gloves really fascinated and saddened him at the same time. It reminded Silas of all the times he watched his father get dressed on Sunday mornings, slowly pulling the white gloves from his back pocket.

On many occasions, his father would give the gloves to Silas for safekeeping until they arrived at the church. Silas would sit in the backseat beaming while he guarded his father’s white gloves with his life. Nowadays the only thing Silas had to hold on to was his father’s memory, and even that was slipping from his grasp. It was easier when his dad was just an usher. Things shifted when his father became a deacon of their church in Alabama. He started spending more time focusing on the movement, and marching, and less time at home with Silas and his mom. Silas always knew his dad did important work with the movement; he just wished it hadn’t taken up so much of his time.

“Man, where you been?” Tommy whispered tapping Silas on the shoulder as they stood on each side of the chapel entrance way. He smiled his gap-toothed grin while handing parishioners paddle-shaped fans with a picture of praying hands on the front. “Your uncle does not look happy at all.”

“It was my stupid cat’s fault. I let her out this morning and she wouldn’t come back in. I spent thirty minutes looking for her.”

“Excuses. You missed the introduction of the new pastor and everything. Ever since Pastor Jones died, we’ve had nothing but guest pastors, but they say this one permanent.”

Silas followed Tommy’s finger as he gestured to the young pastor sitting at the front of the church, facing the congregation. Silas scrunched up his face.

“Where’s his gray hair? I thought a pastor should look older than that,” Silas said. Tommy turned to Silas and mimicked the same confused expression.

“Dr. King’s a pastor, and he ain’t got gray hair.”

“Man, that’s different.”

“How is it different?”

“Man, I don’t know. This one just looks young, that’s all. He looks younger than my mom.”

“Speaking of your mom … that yellow dress—whew!” Tommy smiled while playfully fanning himself.

Silas cut Tommy a dirty look, then quickly changed his expression to a smile as more parishioners entered the sanctuary. Tommy closed the church doors quietly behind the last of the entering congregants. They took their seats in the back and turned their attention to the choir.

The choir continued singing, their royal blue robes embellished with golden satin stoles swaying in unison. In the front section of the choir, a young girl, who looked to be around the same age as Silas, held the microphone and belted out the solo parts of “This Little Light of Mine” with the voice of a person twice her age. Tommy smirked as he watched Silas stare with his mouth agape, mesmerized by the young girl’s voice.

“You better stop making goo-goo eyes at the Pastor’s niece,” Tommy nudged Silas, momentarily breaking him out of his trance.

“Man. I’m not making goo-goo eyes at that girl,” Silas said. He tried to look away and pretend he was not interested, but her melodic voice kept drawing him back in.

The church audience began clapping and swaying. Silas got a tingly feeling throughout his body: the music caused him to sway slightly from side to side. He did not know of many girls his age who could sing with such intensity. Tommy, who was now standing and clapping to the music, looked over at his friend and smiled. Silas turned and redirected his attention back to the young songbird singing at the front of the room.

Unfortunately for Silas and Tommy, the rest of the service proved uneventful. He zoned out when Sister Jones started reading the church announcements, which included the list of sick and shut-in parishioners. Silas spent the rest of his time admiring the stained glass windows and stealing glances at the young caramel-complexioned girl who sang at the beginning of service. As if beckoned, she finally turned and looked down the aisle. They briefly locked eyes. Tommy covered his mouth to stifle his laugh as he nudged Silas with his elbow. Embarrassed, Silas quickly redirected his attention to the stained glass windows that decorated the cream walls of the cathedral.

Silas reverted to the pastor’s huffing and puffing as the organ began playing after each breath the pastor took. Silas sighed with relief because the organ’s short intervals meant that church would be over soon. He could not wait to leave so he could get out of his stuffy clothes and ride his bike for the rest of the afternoon.

Once the service ended and people began filing out of the pews, Silas became more excited, but his excitement fell when his mother turned and headed toward the front of the church rather than the back, where the exit was located. He looked around for his Uncle Seymour as a saving grace, but his uncle had already exited the pew and was congregating with other parishioners. Sadie stood in line to shake the pastor’s hand. When Silas turned around, his mother motioned him to come to the front with her. He slightly shook his head no, but the shift in his mother’s body and her raised eyebrows quickly informed him that “no” was not an option. Grudgingly, Silas walked up the main aisle and stood next to his mother who was next in line to shake the pastor’s hand.

“Good morning, Reverend Shepherd,” Sadie said, extending her hand to the pastor. “I’m Sadie Montgomery and I wanted to personally welcome you on your first day as pastor of our church. I truly enjoyed the sermon you gave this morning.”

“Well thank you, Sister Montgomery.” Reverend Shepherd shook Sadie’s hand and smiled. “I’m glad you had the opportunity to come out and fellowship with us this morning. Your brother, Deacon Love, tells me you are fairly new to the city of Gary as well, correct?”

“Indeed we are, sir. My son and I moved here from Birmingham to be closer to my brother, since my husband’s …” Sadie lowered her eyes searching the floor for something to focus on.

Silas noticed the reverend was still holding his mother’s hand. He was amazed at how young the pastor looked, considering all the preachers he had seen were his grandfather’s age or older.

“I know, Sister. No need to explain. I work in the steel mill, alongside your brother, Seymour. I know all about Deacon Montgomery.” Reverend Shepherd patted Sadie’s hand. “I’ve heard nothing but good things about your husband Paul. God rest his soul.”

“Thank you, Pastor,” Sadie said quietly. She smiled as her hand slowly slipped from the pastor’s grasp. Remembering her son Silas was standing beside her, her smile faded slightly and her matter-of-fact voice emerged.

“Reverend, I’d like you to meet my son, Silas Jonah Montgomery,” Sadie said, placing one hand around Silas’s shoulders and one atop his head where she unconsciously stroked the top of his closely cropped wavy hair.

“Hello Silas Jonah Montgomery,” the reverend said, bending down and swallowing Silas’s small hand into his own. “That’s a strong name you got there, son. Really strong.”

“Thank you,” Silas mumbled after Sadie gently squeezed his shoulder as a friendly reminder. Reverend Shepherd nodded before raising his free hand and motioning to the young lady who had sung in the choir earlier to come over to where they stood.

“Everyone. This is my niece, Glory.” Reverend Shepherd put his arm around a very reserved young lady, who gave a nod to everyone. Glory stood next to her uncle and stared over at Silas, not knowing where to look. Silas averted his gaze, but he did notice that her eyes were a pretty shade of green. He pulled at his bowtie, in an effort to loosen it; his mother quickly swatted his hands away. She reached out to shake Glory’s hand and introduced Silas. The one time he wished his mother had not said his whole name. Glory smirked when she heard his middle name, Jonah; slightly embarrassed, Silas tried to back away and leave. Before he could get anywhere, an arm was now wrapped around his shoulder, as a free hand reached out in the direction of Glory.

“I’m Tommy,” he said while shaking Glory’s hand. Tommy looked over at Silas and smiled. Silas rolled his eyes. “Reverend Shepherd, Sister Montgomery, is it okay if we all go outside to the tent? I think lunch is set up now?”

“That sounds like a good idea,” Sadie said, looking at Tommy smiling. “Silas, I’m going to go and catch up with your uncle. You get some lunch, and I will see you later for the afternoon service.”

“Afternoon, service! But I thought, we were …” Silas’s voice trailed off as he saw his mother’s raised eyebrow. Silas quickly changed his tune. “Yes ma’am.”

“Yes ma’am,” Tommy mocked now that Sadie and Reverend Shepherd were out of earshot. Glory laughed as they all headed outside toward the lunch line.

“Quit it man, you play too much.”

“Aww you mad, because I made fun of you, in front of the girl you like?”

“Leave me alone Tommy.”

“Alright, alright. So sensitive. I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone.” Tommy slapped Silas hard on the back before running off to catch up with another group of kids standing around in the parking lot with their plates.

Fuming, Silas quickly yanked his Brooklyn Dodgers baseball cap out of his back pocket and put it on his head, pulling it down over his eyes.

“Look, Glory. If you want you can just go over there and get food. I’m just going to stay here.” Silas’s voice trailed off, as he looked down and ran his foot across the loose gravel rocks along the parking lot driveway.

“How old are you?” Glory was staring at him again. She always stared hard, as if she wanted to make sure Silas was as uncomfortable as possible.

“Nine.” Silas looked around at the food with disinterest.

“I’m eleven, almost 12. So, I’m older than you.”

“I guess you are,” Silas said, his eyes searching the table for something to drink. Glory looked on, unfazed by Silas’s lack of interest.

“So why were you staring at me while I was in the choir stand?” Glory crossed her arms over her knees and stared at Silas until he began to squirm.

“I wasn’t staring at you. I was listening to the choir.”

“You were staring, even when the choir wasn’t singing. So, why were you staring?”

He took off his Dodgers hat and scratched his head before putting it back on again.

“Look, why don’t you just go get some food or something, and just leave me alone, alright.” Silas turned to walk in the opposite direction of Glory, but she stood and blocked his path. He tried to step around her, but she blocked his path again. Glory smirked as she looked down at Silas.

“Last time I checked, the Dodgers weren't in Brooklyn,” Glory said as she snatched the cap off Silas's head. “Why you wearing this old thing for anyway?”

“Don't worry about why I'm wearing it, just give it back,” Silas snapped as he attempted to snatch the hat out of Glory's hand. She yanked her hand out of his reach.

“You gonna fight me for it.”

“I don't fight girls.”

“Well I fight boys. Actually, I'll fight anyone who thinks they can beat me, especially little boys.”

“I'm not a little boy,” Silas growled as he jumped up to get eye to eye with Glory. Since Glory was taller, Silas had to stand on his tippy toes to meet her eye to eye. His mouth poked out as he bit his lower lip. “Just, give me back my hat.”

“Okay, Jo-nah,”

“I said stop it.”

"Or what, huh?" She pushed Silas slightly on his left shoulder, daring him to respond. A crowd of young churchgoers slowly began to gather around them. Tommy, seeing what was going on in the distance, started back away toward the church, before running full speed inside of it.

Silas stepped out of the bushes and glared at her. He clenched his jaw, shoved his tiny fists into jacket pockets and turned to walk away. Laughing, Glory came behind Silas and pushed him so hard that he lost his balance and fell. All the kids in the yard saw this and started laughing. A small group gathered around Silas and Glory, forming a ring around the two of them. The adults outside were still praying and talking amongst themselves, so they did not notice the commotion. Silas’s face was bright red once he stood and regained his footing.

“I said I don’t hit girls,” he growled. “You better cool it Glory or I’ll …”

“Or you’ll do what, Jo-nah?” Glory attempted to push Silas again.

But this time Silas moved, causing Glory to fall on the ground. Everyone started laughing, Silas included, but he still extended his hand to help her up. A proud and embarrassed Glory smacked his hand away, and then jumped up and swung, hitting Silas in the face. Smack. The pain was so intense throughout his right jaw he hardly felt her when she pushed him down again.

“You’re as stupid as the person who gave you that stupid name!” Glory taunted as the other children laughed.

“My daddy gave me that name!” Silas jumped off the ground and charged toward Glory with so much force that they both slammed into the graveled pavement. While on the ground, Glory rolled and kicked her foot hard into Silas’s left shin, sending another sharp jolt of pain through his body. This time Silas wasted no time as he pounced on Glory again, with only half his punches landing on the intended target. The students who had gathered around them cheered on the fight as Glory struggled to get up from under Silas. Suddenly, Silas was snatched up like an eagle making off with its prey.

“Have you lost your mind?!” Silas’s mother said through clenched teeth. “Boy, I am two seconds from laying you out right here. As God as my witness …” He stood there as his mother held him tight around the collar, shaking him. An elderly lady of the church helped Glory up. The lady shook her head at Silas as Glory began to cry crocodile tears. Silas could see hints of a smirk on Glory’s face through his blurred, squinted eyes. Silas jaws were puffed out, and his lips pierced tightly together. He bit his bottom lip to contain his anger.

“Y'all all down on me, you need to say something to her. She started it.” His mother slapped him hard in the back of the head, then grabbed him and held him tightly by the collar again. “Boy who you yelling at? Huh?” Sadie shook Silas back and forth. “I’m not having this Silas. You hear me? I’m not having it.” Sadie started to lay another hand to Silas’s backside when Uncle Seymour came through the crowd and interceded between the mother and son.

“Give me the boy.” Uncle Seymour touched his sister lightly in a gesture for her to release her hold on Silas. She looked at Seymour again, then at Silas. Sadie slowly let him go, but her expression was still displeased. “I’ll deal with him Sadie, just let the boy go.” Uncle Seymour put his arm around Silas and led him back toward the church. Tommy stood there with his head hanging down. Uncle Seymour put his hand on the young man's shoulders as he walked by. “You did the right thing in coming to get me.”

“And I’ll deal with her,” Reverend Shepherd emerged from the other side of the crowd. He took his niece from an elderly woman and dragged her by the arm toward his office. Silas turned once more toward Glory. He was being led in one direction and she was being pulled in the other. He looked at her, and she mouthed the words sorry as she and her angry uncle disappeared around the corner. Silas turned around and slowly walked with his uncle’s arm around his shoulders.

* * *

“That was a foolish thing you went and done boy.” Seymour Love looked at his nephew and shook his head. “Real foolish.”

Seymour went to the church’s kitchen area and grabbed some ice out of the icebox, placed it in a towel, and handed it to Silas. Silas placed the cool compress over his swollen right jaw. He held his head down in shame. The towel gave Silas little relief from the intense throbbing coming from the side of his face. Seymour walked back toward the open icebox, his feet echoing through the church basement like hundreds of men marching in place.

“She started it,” Silas mumbled in his defense, regretting the words seconds after they escaped his lips.

“Boy, I don’t care who started it, that’s not the point,” barked his uncle, turning around to face his nephew. The harshness in Seymour’s voice forced Silas to pay attention. Seymour grabbed a wooden chair from the recreation room and pulled it in front of Silas, who sat on the sofa. He looked at his nephew for a minute before he spoke again.

“The point is not who started the fight, Silas,” Seymour leaned in and rested his arms on his knees and pointed a finger at Silas. “The point is that you allowed someone to get under your skin to the point that you lost control,” Seymour leaned back in his chair before he continued. “Your father would be turning over in his grave if he saw how you behaved this afternoon.”

Silas could only hold his head down and stare at the floor. Uncle Seymour sighed as he leaned back in his chair, crossed his arms and looked hard at his nephew. Seymour noticed Silas looked more and more like Paul everyday. Seymour stood up and slowly paced the floor.

“Your father was a good man, a great man, and what you did today brought shame to his legacy.” Seymour looked down at his nephew one last time before turning to leave. Silas glanced over at the clock: 10:22 a.m. He knew eleven o’clock service would be starting soon. He held his head down, and with his eyes closed he swore he heard the sound of hundreds of men walking further and further away from him. Walking until no sound was heard at all.

Sadie overheard everything while she leaned against the basement door of the church. Suddenly, Seymour came around the corner. They gave each other a knowing look.

Sadie lowered her eyes and Seymour slowly put on his bowler hat and headed out the side door. Sadie looked behind her and watched her brother stand outside and look up at the clouds. Then she watched him walk sadly down the street. Sadie peered around the corner at her son on the sofa, his head down in his lap. She quietly walked toward her son.

“Boy, hold your head up, and stop feeling sorry for yourself.” Sadie placed her yellow purse on the table that stood inches away from Silas’s seat. “Wallowing in your hurt ain’t gon’ change the fact that you did what you did.”

Silas looked up from the church’s black and white tile. His mother handed him his Dodgers baseball cap. He put it on and slowly pulled it down over his eyes.

“Ain’t no need of us fighting each other Silas. We’re in the same fight.” Sadie cupped her son’s face in her hands. “Your father died fighting. Fighting for you, me, fighting for his people. He even fought to get us out of Alabama. Unfortunately, he didn’t make it out in time to enjoy it.”

Sadie looked down at her feet, regained her composure then looked into her son’s eyes.

“We all make mistakes, Silas. But we have to learn from them as well, and be held accountable for our actions.” Sadie dusted the dirt off Silas’s suit jacket. She looked at her son, and noticed he had grown several inches in the last few months. Gonna be tall like his daddy.

“I’m sorry, Mama, for embarrassing you today.”

“Oh, you didn’t embarrass me sweetheart. You embarrassed yourself.” She took a step back, and reached for her purse matter-of-factly. “You embarrassed yourself.”

Sadie ran her fingers across the top of Silas’s baseball cap, dusting off excess debris, then turned and headed toward the sanctuary entrance.

“Seems like you have some apologizing to do. I’d think you’d like to go ahead and get it over with before second service starts … but I could be wrong.” Sadie tucked her purse under her arm and proceeded up the basement stairs.

Silas stopped and noticed how the light from the doors illuminated the stairwell, making his mother look almost angelic as she ascended the stairs.

“Boy what are you standing there smiling for? Didn’t I say let’s go?” Sadie stood with her hands on her hips staring at the goofy look on her son’s face. Silas came back to reality and bolted past her, wincing at the expected swat on the bottom as he went past. Sadie watched Silas skip every other stair as he ascended upward. She looked until he disappeared around the corner then she shook her head and chuckled. Lord have mercy, what am I gonna do with that boy?

* * *

“How many times have I told you, that’s not the proper way for a young lady to act?” Reverend Shepherd leaned down on his desk and looked into his niece’s eyes. “What am I going to do with you, huh?”

Glory, unable to bear her uncle’s angry stare, turned and directed her eyes toward the crucifix hanging on his office wall. She stared at the detailed carvings of stakes in the statue's hands, and then looked down at her own hands before closing them tightly in her lap. Reverend Shepherd stood straight up and pinched the top of his nose, the spot between his tightly squeezed eyes. Crossing his arms, Shepherd walked around to the front of his desk, looked up and sighed before slowly leaning back against the desk. He looked at his niece who sat with her head down. Shepherd took a deep breath and squatted down near his niece’s chair. He lifted the young girl’s chin with his index finger.

“Listen to me.” He spoke softly in an attempt to change his approach. “I know this is hard for you. This is hard for me, too. I’ve never raised a child before but …”

“Uncle, I don’t want to go back to them,” The girl sat up straighter and her eyes sprung open dancing back and forth. “I’m sorry, please don’t send me away,” The girl clung to her uncle’s suit, and in turn he took her hand and placed it in his own.

“Sweet pea, I’m not going to send you away, and as God is my witness I won’t let them take you away either. But if the courts are going to allow me to keep you, you have to be on your best behavior and that, what I just saw out there? That’s not helping the situation at all. Do you understand?”

“I know,” the girl mumbled, looking down towards the hardwood floors. Reverend Shepherd let go of the girl’s hand and stood up protectively over the girl’s chair.

“Well then, you also know the first thing you have to do. Is that correct?” Shepherd walked back behind his desk and sat in his big leather seat. “Young lady?” Shepherd raised his eyebrow waiting for the girl to speak.

“Yes, sir, I know.” Glory sucked her teeth in so hard that Reverend Shepherd looked up from his papers and peered at her over his glasses with one eyebrow raised. Glory’s attitude quickly transformed upon seeing her uncle’s stern stare. The reverend’s disposition also changed, as he smiled and stood up from his desk.

“Well, here’s your chance.” Shepherd said as he motioned for the visitors at his door to come in. Glory turned around to see who was standing behind her. She rolled her eyes and slowly turned back around slouching. Propping her head with her arm, she leaned on the side of the chair.

Silas stood at the doorway with his mother and uncle. He glared hard at the seat that held his new enemy. With a swift slap against the side of his arm, Sadie quickly knocked the angry scowl from her son’s face. The pastor smiled at Silas and his family, but his smile quickly faded when he saw his niece’s unladylike behavior. Reverend Shepherd cleared his throat loudly, and Glory instinctively set up straight and changed her outer demeanor.

“Good afternoon, Reverend.” Silas’s mother extended her hand toward Reverend Shepherd and smiled. “I know you are a busy man, and second service will be starting shortly, but before it does, my son has something he needs to say to Glory.” Sadie looked toward Glory and briefly saw the young girl’s eyes dance as she looked at Silas.

“Oh but before he does, Mrs. Montgomery, Glory has to say something first, don’t you?” The Reverend gave his niece a knowing look as he leaned back against his desk crossing his arms and his legs at the heel. ”We’re waiting,”

The gleam quickly left her eyes, as she realized her uncle was forcing her to apologize first. She looked up at her uncle, then at Silas’s mother and uncle. She could tell by Sadie’s demeanor and posture that Mrs. Montgomery was not too fond of her. Trying to avoid Mrs. Montgomery’s gaze, Glory turned her attention to Silas, who now had the dancing gleam in his eyes. She looked back at her uncle who slightly nudged her in the back.

“I’m sorry,” she rushed out in response to the nudge. “I shouldn’t have called you names and made you angry.” She held her head down, not out of shame, but out of embarrassment for having to apologize to Silas in front of everyone.

Silas smiled in his mind but quickly caught himself before the smile had a chance to appear on his lips. His mother stood on one side and looked on. His uncle, although a little further away, stood on the other side and stared at him as well. Feeling the pressure from both sides, Silas quickly blurted out his apology as well.

“I’m sorry,” Silas said, trying to hold back his annoyance. “I shouldn’t have hit you.” He held out his hand for Glory to shake it. Glory placed her hand in his and Silas purposely squeezed extra hard while shaking it. As not to show any pain, Glory gritted her teeth and smiled, as an acceptance of his apology. All of the adults looked pleased to see the youngsters apologize and were all smiles heading toward the sanctuary, when the phone rang.

“Hold on a second everyone,” Shepherd held up his index finger, as he reached to grab the phone. “Hello, Reverend Shepherd.” Reverend Shepherd’s smile slowly faded and his eyes glossed over. He shook his head in disbelief; the Reverend looked as though he were going to pass out, as he leaned on his desk for support. Sadie and Seymour rushed to his side.

“How could they … okay, I’ll … I’ll inform the congregation and we’ll get a prayer circle going. Thank you, Pastor.” Reverend Shepherd slowly hung up the phone and stared out the glass window. “Glory, you and Silas go and have a seat outside. I need to speak to Sister Montgomery and Deacon Love in private.”

Glory started to protest, but after seeing the seriousness in her uncle’s face, she obeyed. As she and Silas went out, Deacon Love closed the door behind them.

“Dang. What was that all about?” Silas looked back at the closed door. “Whatever it was, it sure looked serious.”

“Hey, I know how we can find out what happened. Follow me.” Glory pulled on Silas’s arm, but he pulled back and planted his feet on the ground.

“Nope. I ain’t going nowhere with you, you got me in enough trouble today.” Silas crossed his arms, and looked onward.

“Boy this is serious. They may need our help or something.” She pulled at Silas’ arm again; this time he followed with less resistance.

“Hold up, that’s the girl’s bathroom. I ain’t going in there,” Silas shouted, pulling his arm away from Glory again.

“Shh! Boy come on, this is the only way we can hear what they are saying in my dad’s … I mean my uncle’s office,” Glory whispered, pulling Silas down toward the vent, where they heard Silas’s mother with such crispness that it was as though they were still in the room. Silas and Glory placed their ears to the vent.

* * *

“Pastor, say something, you’re scaring me,” Silas mother ran over to help the pastor to his seat.

“I’m fine, Mrs. Montgomery. I can’t sit right now.” Reverend Shepherd looked at Seymour and then at Sadie. He sighed before he spoke again.

“I just got a call from Pastor Taylor, over at First Baptist, and he informed me that …” the pastor looked at his desk, and stared at it as if he weren’t looking at anything at all. He cleared his throat, but his voice still sounded raspy and dry. He cleared his throat again and looked up at his parishioners. “Reverend Taylor just informed me that the Sixteenth Street Baptist Church in Birmingham was bombed today.”

Seymour helped his sister into the chair and fanned her. “That used to be our family’s home church years ago, Pastor. Were there any casualties?”

The reverend leaned his back on his bookcase, took his glasses off and looked up at the ceiling. “They said the blast ….” The reverend, unable to control himself, placed his hand up to his eyes. Seymour and Sadie watched as the tears streamed down his face. “They said the blast took the lives of four little girls.” The pastor leaned against his bookshelf with his arm covering his eyes nodding. Sadie and Seymour sat motionless as the silent drops of tears fell from his eyes.

* * *

Silas sat with his back against the wall. He felt that any sudden movement would only release the pain and anguish brewing inside him. Silas shook his head back and forth and wondered if he’d ever looked upon the faces of these girls. Was it the little girl down the street that always played tag with him? What about the little girl who taught him that little boys jumped rope too? Or maybe it was one of the older girls that he’d always had a crush on?

Silas was so wrapped up in thought that the tears rolling from his eyes went unnoticed. Silas could feel his enemy’s arms wrapping around him. He turned and leaned his head on her shoulder. The instant connection of his head to her shoulder opened a floodgate of emotion for Silas. In that instant, all of his life’s hurt and pain fell into a tiny wet stain that flowed from his eyes to her shirt. Silas buried his head in her arm and wrapped his arms around her waist. The two sat holding each other on the cold women’s bathroom floor, neither knowing where to go from there.

About the author

Born and raised in Gary, Indiana, Nikita C. Anderson holds an M.A. degree in English from Morgan State University, with a concentration in Screenwriting and Cinematic Storytelling and an M.F.A. in Creative Writing and Publishing Arts from the University of Baltimore. Although she received her graduate degrees in Baltimore, she will forever be a proud Purdue Boilermaker! Nikita currently resides in Baltimore, Maryland and is working on her first novel. When she is not writing or working on her podcast, she enjoys participating in book clubs, listening to music, watching Netflix, and playing lots of video games. Learn more on her website.

About the illustrator

Yaleeza Patchett has been creating whimsical art and illustrations since a child; her inspiration comes from the cartoons, comic strips and animated movies she grew up with. In 2016, Yaleeza began expanding her art into her own business named Rowan Ink. It began with a simple pair of hand-painted custom-made shoes for a friend’s birthday. Through her artistic journey she has expanded into different art mediums, but her true passion is sketching, illustrating and painting. Yaleeza currently resides in the south side of Indianapolis with her husband, her dog, and her cat. You can find her current artwork at Rowaninkstudio.com