JPF Home Page Forums Creative Arts Forums Creative Writing Forum "Baby, Get To Me"

10. AIN'T IT GONNA BE WONDERFUL WHEN WE ALL GET TO HEAVEN; Ain't It Gonna Be Wonderful When... Ain't It Gonna Be Wonderful... Ain't It Gonna Be... Ain't It Gonna... Ain't It.. Ain't.

The place reeks, perfume, flowers, funereal feeling, smell. Old people. Young people. Whoa! Good looking girl! Baby Jesus loves that top!

A 'rounder' of my acquaintance told me church was a good place to meet girls. I think he said, "to pick up girls." Since we were talking about getting laid... sex, I thought it was an odd suggestion for finding girls to... engage with for that purpose. I decided it made perfect sense. He talked about the ones he'd met, showed me on his smart-aleck phone, pictures of one, maybe two... they looked a lot alike, what I saw. I didn't see much of their faces because they were holding... or at least one was holding her shirt up and I was busy looking at... those. Titties and beer are three of my favorite things. Yeah, I'm in church, a rounder I reckon, thinking thoughts like these. But... I'm not a bad person. I swear! Can ya swear in church? I think that's what church is all about. Swearing. You swear to the 'Shalt nots' which implies you swear to opposites. I never had much churchin', as Uncle Lonnie used to say. I went to Vacation Bible School one day and that was alright. There was some artsy craftsy stuff we did with raw dough that dried hard. I had to memorize a verse, carve it into the wet dough, that one about, "For God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son that whosoever believeth in him might... live long and prosper."

As I was leaving, some kid I'd seen in the church got in my face up the street and started a fight, just mouthing off, but right in my face, right in the middle of the street, in sight of the church and Sweet Baby Jesus. I don't think I said anything before he pushed me, and there was another kid on the ground behind me on his hands and knees. It was intended I should fall over him but I just sat down on him, got my balance, grabbed him by the neck and brought him up and threw him in the other kid's face! I reckon their heads butted because the guy who started it was bleeding from his nose. They went on up the street and I took another way home. I didn't go to Bible School any more.

I've... been in churches for funerals. I read in the papers about lots of priests and preachers who show they don't believe what they preach to the rest of us, because they break all the commandments... all the commandments, with no apparent fear of eternal hell lakes of fire or pitchforky devils! The Air Force told me I was Protestant, put it on my dogtags. My friend told me she was agnostic, and explained it meant she didn't take a stance on it so much as just declared she didn't know, and wasn't convinced. I've seen the Christians. I'm pretty much not impressed. I read a couple books on 'comparative' religions. They have more in common than differences. But... I decided if I take care of this life, that next one will take care of itself. So... here I am... a Midnight Slammin' rounder, rascal, deluder of fourteen year old Ileace, target of her Mother The Bounty Hunter who I'm still not ready to accept is not a cat woman and nothing can protect my eyes if she goes for them! My mind is racing! Rambling.

There are conversations here, there, children being scolded, a baby crying, the organ player trying to drown it out, I think. Nobody hollers "Free Bird!" I... no I probably shouldn't be the first. I follow Ileace down the right side aisle. She picks a pew, goes in. I go in, see her mother across near the center aisle, a few spaces in and nobody on out the other end. She looks... small... and... lonely. I don't think she's seen us yet.

Then the Holy Man steps up to the podium. "May God be with you!" he says. The speakers ring. He stands up a little straighter, away from the mic. Hey! Open mic preaching! Anybody who wants to preach can get up and do it. No?

I'd better shut up my inner stupid. I'm not looking at the prettiest girl in the pews for fear of getting the giggles myself.

"And with you!" the crowd... the... congregation answers back. Ileace's Mom must have finally seen Ileace because she scoots over the space between them and looks around her at me.

"Good morning," I say, quietly. Ileace takes her hand, and Mrs... Ileace's Mom clutches with both of hers.

Preacher's revving up. Yadda yadda yadda. Yadda. Yadda yadda. He says, "Ain't..." He says it, "Ain't it gonna be wonderful when we all get to heaven?" I pick that phrase up because in just a few more lines of yadda, he says it again; "Ain't it gonna be wonderful when we all get to heaven?" He goes on. There's not much substance to his sermon. Even I... I read the Bible once, cover to cover, like any book, even I could hear that he was preaching around religious... ideas... but not citing any Bible verses. I don't have expectations so I just relax and listen. "Ain't it gonna be wonderful when we all get to heaven?" comes up again, and again, and one more time.

Then all the little children who can walk, and carry a coffee mug... come up out of the basement... I'm guessing... because there are a couple dozen of them, and they came from somewhere, and the organ player cranks it up, and the children march in two columns down the center aisle, every other child turning left or right along the front pews, very... military drill-style, soliciting donations, and getting them, coins clinking on ceramics. The then go to the side aisles and pass along the ends of the pews. People seem to be ready for the ritual, dropping coins noisily on ceramic, soon clinking in the cup on other coins, an occasional flourish of paper money. It looks like a routine everyone's used to.

I reach for my wallet. I usually have a pocket full of coins. Left it in my jeans. I forgot ya gotta pay to get to heaven. I get several dollar bills out and every third child or so gets a dollar bill in their cup. The ones that get it turn to look at the kid behind them, lift their cup with a wow face on. I think we're teaching them that it's all about the money. The organ plays. The kids keep circling. I fish out a few more dollars, and when the ones who were on the other side while I gave this side dollars come by this side I drop in my dollars at intervals. More wow faces. I'm out of ones. You little... ain't gettin' fives! The organ keeps playing, the children keep cycling. Finally they must have gotten a signal because they start coming into the pews, people turning their knees aside, pulling their feet in, coins hitting ceramic! Finally the organ player falls off her stool, dies a peaceful death and the ritual is over.

Preach revs up the yaddas again and I start to feel a little cramped. I zone out. "Ain't it gonna be wonderful when we all get to heaven?" Suddenly, it's over! The organ player is alive! All the children have vanished with my money. People start getting up heading for the exit. Ileace gets up. I get up. Mom gets up. They're talking. Lots of people are talking. The dead organ player's playing. If I knew it would be this quick I'd 'a come last Sunday!

Ileace turns to me, beaming. I'm dumbstruck, don't step out of her way until she reaches and touches my chest. I step out into the aisle, gesture with my left arm, she steps out, Mom out, takes Ileace's arm, and away we go. I expect to have to shake a Preacher's hand at the door, a deacon, the dead organ player. Nobody. Cars are starting and most seem quite eager to get the hell out of there!

Out on the sidewalk, we're stopped with other folks, waiting for the demolition derby to take a recess. Ileace and her Mother are talking. Ileace turns to me, says,
"We usually go home and make breakfast. Can we do that?"

"Yes," NOT BABY, "ma'am. We can do that." I wanna call her 'Baby'.

"Thank you for coming!" Mrs. No says, reaching to shake my hand. I shake hers. We walk her to her car. Ileace and I walk across the parking lot, go to where she parked on the street.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?" Ileace asks. I begin in my head with a critique of "Ain't it gonna be wonderful..." but decide to save it for when it's wonderful to discuss at length.

"No," I tell her. "Best six bucks I've spent all day!"

"Shut up!" she says. I stop in my tracks.

"Shut up?" I say. "Shut up? I'm going to tell your Mother you say that to me all the time. You'll be grounded until you're fifteen!"

I get a laugh! I start walking again. Always leave 'em laughin'. She catches up, takes my hand.

"Thank you for coming," she says.

"Thank you for having me," I say.

"Are you hungry?" she asks.

"I haven't been hungry since 2010!" I declare. "But I can eat."

"Good! Mom will have biscuits ready to pop in the oven, homemade white gravy, bacon and ham. Bacon OR ham," she corrects. "You have to choose. You can't have both!"

"What happens if I try to have both?" I tease.

"Violence!" she says, thinking herself very funny. I just think she's very cute. My list of eleven places goes up to fifteen. I'm gonna bite those lips! Hey! I'm a Rounder!