James Marlon - John Crow's Devil

That Sunday, the Apostle York spoke about the Front End of the Call:

And it came to pass, that as he was come nigh unto Jericho, a certain blind man sat by the wayside begging:

And hearing a multitude pass by, he asked what it meant. And they told him, that He of Nazareth passeth by. And he cried, saying, Thou, Son of David, have mercy on me.

And the Son of Man stood, and commanded him to be brought unto Him: and he was come near, He asked him,

Saying, what wilt thou that I shall do unto thee? And he said, Lord, that I may receive my sight.

And the son of man said unto him, receive thy sight: Thy faith hath saved thee.

And immediately he received his sight, and followed Him, glorifying God: and all the people, when they saw it, gave praise unto God.

Lucinda had seen too much forty-five minutes earlier. Her eyes were so wide open they burnt her to tears. From that day, she would never see anything in quite the same way, but the sermon was not to be blamed.

“Beloved, when Je— Oh praise God! When the Lord, the mighty God of Heaven and Earth, forgives you. I’m just going to read something from Matthew, Chapter Four, verse eighteen to twenty-five.”

Fifteen minutes before the hour, Lucinda had been stocking hymnals behind the church benches. She was feline in her purpose. The woman never wore perfume, but her new freshness and bounce had brought heat and sweat, and the need to pound her chest with Cussons talcum powder until it looked like a breast of bird feathers. She now took baths with lavender floor cleaner, which she poured into the bath water, ignoring the burn in both holes. A trivial thing to do, but Lucinda had fallen in love with the trivial and now played with the petty. She would tell him the hymnals were carefully stacked, just to make sure he knew that she was responsible. She wanted his approval, even if that only meant the slight rise of his left eyebrow and the tentative curl of his lips into a smile. She was surprised at how much she wanted to be wanted. Lucinda’s life had been so efficiently clipped and blinkered that she had desired nothing from a man but distance.

“Apostle, the hymnals put out pon the bench. You want me do the Bibl—”

The keys slipped out of her fingers and fell to the ground. She had cracked the door open slightly. Inside the office, on the floor, were red books and black books, opened and unopened and scattered throughout. The Apostle stood firmly, almost facing her, with his hands on his hips. But he was looking behind him at the full-length mirror. He was naked. Her tiny gasp cut through the din like thunder. He swung around and saw the blur of her as she closed the door and ran off.

For the first time, Lucinda sat to the rear of the church, staring at the floor as the sermon passed by in a blur.

… Going on from there, he saw two other brothers, James, son of Zebedee, and his brother John. He called them and immediately they left the boat and their father and followed Him.

“Beloved, when the Lord opens your eyes, because how many of you know that we’re all blind? And if we not blind, some of us can only look behind us. But church, when the Lord opens your eyes it’s your invitation to follow!

“Listen to me.

“Now is the time to follow! Any time the Lord reveals something to you, He wants you to be like Elisha. Sell off everything! Get rid of everything! Join Him now, church. Don’t waste any more time in that woman bed you should not be sleeping in. Or spending that money you stole, or reading that letter that you should not be opening, or gossiping that lady you shouldn’t be gossiping, or drinking that liquor you shouldn’t be — oh, do I have a witness in here this morning? Don’t let me start preaching, church! Cut it out! Cut it out! Cut it out!

“The Lord is looking for followers. Remember the story of the rich man in Mark Ten? Or Eleven, don’t look it up. You know why we don’t have thirteen disciples? It’s not because Adam and Eve sin on Friday the thirteenth. You know why we don’t have thirteen disciples? Because the last one couldn’t throw down everything and follow the Son of Man. Now he’s condemned, still burning in the chambers of fire, mind you, and all his millions of dollars can’t buy one snow cone in Hell. Is that where you’re heading?

“He’s calling you.

“There are things you need to burn. Destroy. Give up. Leave behind. If this is you, meet me at the altar right now, praise God!”

The altar was full. A man screamed Jesus! and collapsed. The Apostle stepped over him to get to the others. Lucinda remained at the back, trying and failing to sweep her mind empty. Holy Ghost. Holy Ghost. Holy Ghost. Holy Ghost. No foreskin. Holy Ghost. Holy Ghost. Holy Ghost.

“Lucinda.”

His voice pulled her from the cluster of thoughts and she realized that the church was empty, save for the man still lying on the floor whom she did not see. Lucinda spun around; shocked and embarrassed that time had passed and left her with him. She could have carried herself out in the wave of those who left during altar call, even though not many did these days. Instead she was alone with him. He sat one pew ahead with his back to her and his unruly hair glistening like a thousand tiny eyes.

“Lucinda, I think we need to clear a certain matter up. What you might have thought you saw.”

“Y — yes, Pas — I mean, Apos …” She stared at the floor.

“Lucinda? Lucinda,” he said for a second time, disappointed with her unease. “Lucinda, pastors change their clothes in the office all the time. I know what it might have looked like, but it was all innocent, trust me. You might find it foolish, even funny. Here it is: I was changing clothes in my office and there I was, just as how God made me, and you know God, he’s no respecter of persons. I mean, come now, how many times has the Holy Spirit given you a revelation on the toilet? Nothing wrong with that, God is God. Anyway, there I was, about to put my clothes on, when BAM! God just give me a word so powerful that I nearly wet myself. Well, I had to drop to my knees and give Him ten Hallelujahs on the spot! Like I said in today’s message, when God opens you eyes, He wants you to do it now! You hearing me, Lucinda? You can never keep God waiting.”

“Yes, Apostle.”

“So I drop to my knees thanking God, and it was then, right when I got back on my feet, that you saw me. That is that.” He turned around and faced her. “I’m so sorry.”

“Yes sah.”

“You forgive me?”

“Apostle?”

“Forgive. It’s an old custom. Usually happens after somebody says they’re sorry.”

“Yes sah.”

“You don’t look forgiving.”

“Apostle?”

“Forgiving look. You know, with a smile. What is it going to take to get a smile out of you? Are you ticklish? Maybe I should call down one of God’s angels to tickle you?”

She laughed a little girl’s laugh.

“Aha! Look at that. Nothing like a smile to wake up a beautiful face. This means we’re still friends. Good. And Lucinda, I promise I’ll leave my changing to the bathroom from now on.”

Before she was thirteen, Lucinda’s mother had beaten her in two. She gave the two halves names, Day Lucinda and Night Lucinda. Her mother was the same, a church-going sister on some days, a spell-casting obeah woman and whore on others. In time the woman came undone, and to survive her, or at least to prevent whipping, Lucinda would split in two to placate her mother. There was Day Lucinda, when her mother felt pious, who spoke about Sunday school and friends she did not have. There was Night Lucinda, who helped her mother find the callaloo plant; not the one everybody ate, but the special callaloo to make tea for fellowship-ping with darkness. When her mother would beat her savagely, which was often, Day Lucinda would hide bruises under a demure calico dress and a taut heart. When her mother lost her way, which was often, Night Lucinda would steal her cat’s teeth, lizard skins, beads, and knotted cords and speak to the Sasa in secret. Lucinda carried her two selves into adult-hood with ease, using both to empower herself over other women. But then came the Apostle.