The Banks Sisters (4 page)

It was Bunny's turn to eye roll.

“Because I'm grown, bitch. Besides,” she added, “I knew one way or another a bottle of liquor was gonna be needed and we all know you don't have none stashed in your room. Either to celebrate. Or. . .” Her voice trailed off. What the alternative could've been was best unsaid.

“I told you,” Ginger blurted out. “She thought you were dead.”

“Shut up, Ginger,” Bunny snapped then told Tallhya, “get some glasses, please. No back talk and thank you very much.”

Tallhya got four glasses from the cabinet. Simone who never drank anything stronger than a wine cooler, said, “Make mine a double.

Ginger squealed: “Dayum.” Then said, “You sure you're a'ight?” As Bunny, splashed a shot in each of the glasses.

The first sip went down as smooth as a ball of fire for Simone, she coughed. Better after that the brown liquor was a soothing as a John Legend song.

“Have you ever seen anyone get shot in the face before?” Simone asked no one in particular. Tallhya and Ginger turned to Bunny.

Bunny downed a finger of the yak, “Fuck y'all look at me for?” she asked.

Ginger answered, “You the one always talkin' about how you 'bout that life'. Bust a cap in a nigga's ass. Don't give a fuck . . . and all that ra-ra shit. So have you?”

Before Bunny could reply Simone said, “I never want to see anything like that again in my life. It was like. . . .” She couldn't think of any words that could adequately describe, “Goulish . . . like horrific.”

According to the evening news, in all, thirteen people had died—a customer at the bank, two employees, six officers, and the four accomplices. It had been the most gruesome days in the new millennium of the history of Richmond City, a city that in the 90's was once called Murder Capitol.

Ginger felt like she was going to throw up. “Ugh. Can we watch something more exciting or can we talk about something else?” she asked with a twisted face. “Dayum.”

“No you didn't,” Tallhya retorted, looking at Ginger skeptically. “You can be so inconsiderate sometimes.”

“I just wish my dad was here,” Simone dropped her head, “that's all.”

“I know,” Tallhya said walking over to embrace her sister with a hug.

“But shytttt . . . don't we all. Don't we all wish our dads were here?” Ginger asked.

“Ginger you a shady bitch,” Bunny shook her head and scolded Ginger with a punch in her shoulder, even though she knew the truth of the matter was that they all at some point or another wished they had a father like Simon, Simone's dad.

Bunny's dad was, and still is, serving a life sentence somewhere in Colorado.

Tallhya's dad, according to Diedra, was a well known singer who was married, when he knocked Diedra up and two years after she was born died of a drug overdose. His manager found him dead inside a hotel room in St. Louis. And Ginger's dad, they were all still scratching their head trying to figure out who that was. The funny thing about that was that Deidra never offered any kind of story as to who or where he was.

When it came to dads, Simone had been the lucky one. Simone had a great relationship with him. She was the apple of his eye and she meant the world to him. In his eyes, nothing was too good for his princess.

Ginger said to Simone, “So . . . Ms. Touched-By-An-Angel,” breaking Simone's brief moment of nostalgia, “you gotta go to work tomorrow? Or are they giving y'all time off?”

Some things can never be forgotten,
Simone thought to herself.

“I'm never going back to that bank,” Simone proclaimed for the first time, even to herself. “I may never step foot inside anybody's bank again. I'll do my banking, online from now own. No thank you at all.”

“Shit, I wouldn't either.” Bunny agreed.

“And I don't blame you.” Tallhya got up from the table and put up the ironing board and started to iron.

“Awww hell naw, you know the party is over now, this bitch about to start her wifely duties,” Ginger said.

“And you know she don't play about that,” Bunny chimed in. “And I thought I be on point with my man and his shit, but this chick right here,” Bunny pointed to Tallhya, “she don't be playing.”

Everybody knew all too well how Tallhya rolled when it came to her men. If Tallhya liked a guy, she not only gave them the world and everything in it, but she catered to them in every way. Though she was a little too needy sometimes, a man couldn't help but to love her.

That's exactly how precise she was about them. And Walter got the best part of the deal when he had married her. The only way Me-Ma would let him move in and stay at the house, so they could save money for the big wedding that Tallhya had always dreamed about was to make it official. So they went to the Justice of the Peace. Walker had been working extra long hours to make sure that Tallhya's big day was everything that her heart desired. Simone and Bunny didn't understand why they hadn't had a big wedding yet, because they— well not exactly “
they,”
but Tallhya—had won the Virginia State Lottery, for one million dollars. And after taxes, and fees, she opted for the yearly payout, so that she could get a check every month. After working her ass to the bone, she never wanted to work for anybody another day in her life. Mike had convinced her that they couldn't use their winnings toward their wedding, that that would have to be their nest egg. And she fully agreed, because that was her security. They both agreed that they'd invest their money in addition to him working to pay for the lavish wedding, she'd always dreamed about.

“I wish I had a boo like you, sis,” Ginger said sarcastically.

“You make my Home and Gardens-ass look bad,” Bunny had to admit to Tallhya.

“Look don't hate me, because I'm wife material. All I want is for Walter to be happy.”

“Leave her alone. Y'all stop messing with her! I respect that she's submissive,” Simone said wishing she had someone to be submissive to.

Just then Walter, Tallhya's husband, walked into the door, “Honey, I'm home.” Tallhya ran to greet her man.

“Hey, Baby! How was your day?”

“It was great,” he said, placing a peck of a kiss on her lips. “Just hungry as fuck. What's for dinner?”

“Good question,” Simone said. “I was wondering the same thing, brother-in-law.”

“Hey, y'all.” Walter, a tall, dark and handsome man wearing gym clothes, had acknowledged his sister-in-laws. “What did Me-Ma cook? A nigga hungry as shit.”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?” Both Simone and Walter sang in question in unison.

“She's been gone all day. As soon as she heard about the bank, she ran out here so fast she didn't do nothing. In fact, she barely had her wig on.”

“Now that's a first,” Ginger said. “She was on the move for sure.”

Walter looked crazy, like he was about to snap. There was no denying that Me-Ma was the best cook in all of the southeastern part of the Unites States. If for nothing else, he came home every day just so that he could eat her home cooking and always took leftovers to work every day. A man never had to indulge in a restaurant when the kitchen where he resided served food and catered to him better than any restaurant he knew of. “Damn, so ain't shit cooked in here?”

Tallhya could see his frustrations on his face and she ran to his side to resolve the situation. “Don't worry baby. I will get you something to eat,” she calmly said, aiming to please her man as her sisters sat and watch. “I'm about to run your shower water, and by the time you get done. I will have your food on the table, okay, baby.”

“Okay. I'll settle for that.” He nodded, not really happy, but he accepted it.

“You know this shit gets crazier by the day. Somebody better call Me-Ma before this man divorce her,” Bunny joked.

“Shit is a crying fucking shame, if you ask me Ginger, that motherfucker need to cook his own gotdamn food or cook her some. On some real G shit, he need to take you out at least one night a week on a date night.”

“We saving for the wedding, you know that,” Tallhya interrupted.

“That nigga makes me sick. He complains about every gotdamn thing. And I don't trust him,” Ginger said.

“Yeah for Christ sake, call Me-Ma please somebody before we have to fuck him up,” Bunny agreed.

Simone reached for the phone and asked, “It's kind of late for Me-Ma to be out isn't it. And you guys, said she's been out all day too?”

Simone called and didn't get an answer and wondered indeed,
Where in the world was Me-Ma?

“The Bible says, if two or more come together, and pray then their wishes shall be granted, in the Name of Jesus,” Pastor Cassius Street confidently said to the Members of The Faith And Hope Ministry as he led prayer. His straight-legged fitted jeans fit him to the ‘T'. The soft material of his designer jeans caressed the top of a pair of his Ostridge cowboy boots, as he paced the pulpit. He beseeched in a strong deep voice, dripping with a perfect mixture of confidence and charm.

“I need all my prayer-warriors to get into the spirit. We must,” he stressed the word must, “stand in the gap with a prayer of protection for the granddaughter of our own, mother Mildred Banks.”

Sitting on the third row in her usual seat, only using her eyes Me-Ma, thanked the pastor in advance and a nod of encouragement and approval, then bowed her head down for the prayer.

“Lord we just honor and we just praise you in advance for all great things you will bestow upon our life. Lord, we ask you for the annoitence and the protection for our sister, Simone. We praise you and we just magnify you. We just ask you to have your will done, to keep Sister Simone in your keeping care. We ask Lord, that not a hair be moved out of place, Lord Jesus we know you are a miracle working God.”

“Yes, Lord,” Me-Ma said aloud and raised her hand.

Me-Ma wasn't one of those so-called Christians, who only prayed in times of need. This woman prayed, every day . . . all day. She didn't even have to know the people and she prayed for them. And most of the time when she prayed, it was for other people, almost rarely for herself.

But Me-Ma's family was an entirely different story. She stayed on her knees for them. Especially, her daughter Deidra, she had always been a free spirited person. But when Me-Ma's husband Johnny, Deidra's father died suddenly of a heart attack on top of his mistress of twenty years, and their fifteen year old love child that lived one street over from them was revealed. Deidra was never the same and finding out that her loving, idol, role-model of father was a two-timing womanizer, had damaged her deeply. If she couldn't trust her creator, her father, who could she trust?

From that moment on, Deidra could never connect with people whole-heartedly or truly deeply love neither would she commit to anything: a girlfriend, a job, a man, not even her own four beautiful children, who was the spitting mirror image of her. She picked up and disposed of people as if they were trash.

Me-Ma loved her daughter so much and was sure that Deidra's shortcomings were just a test of her faith. Me-Ma's faith was impeccable and knew that God may not have when she wanted him to but he would come in his time. And she believed that God was still working on Deidra and would deliver her from her demons one day and until then she would diligently watch over and pray for Deidra's children; her grandchildren.

Which was the one reason that she was always on her knees and in church now, with the prayer warriors praying for her granddaughter. Though all of the grand girls each had their own issues and could use God's grace and mercy. Tallhya had her battles with obesity and her self-esteem. While Bunny, her ghetto princess of whom, Me-Ma, worried herself to death about. The child was so bold and defiant and besides God, that girl feared nothing. And Gene AKA Ginger, was an entirely different story, the poor thing had so many demons that all Me-Ma could do was plead the blood of Jesus on that child.

Oddly enough Simone didn't require a lot of her grandmother's prayers. Though Me-Ma would never admit it and would deny it to her grave, but Simone was definitely her favorite. She loved them all immensely, but there was something about Simone, kind and gentle spirit that held a special place in her heart. The girl walked the straight and narrow and never got in much trouble. Simone was both spiritual and religious. She believed and loved the Lord without a shadow of a doubt. She was raised up in the First Zion Baptist Church and went every single Sunday with her grandmother even after she went to live with her dad when she was nine. Her dad would drop her off every Sunday so she could attend service with her Me-Ma She sung on the choir and ushered on the usher board. But two years ago, when Pastor Jasper dropped dead of a heart attack on the pulpit, the church or Simone feelings toward it was never the same. Simone hadn't stepped a foot in this church again. It was something about the man dying there that freaked her out.

Me-Ma looked up to God, begging for his mercy on Simone. In the midst, she saw Pastor Cassius' eyes open, as he was praying. Then saw Katrina making googly eyes with the pastor. Me-Ma shot her a look that only a mother could give her child. Cassius looked away quickly and closed his eyes and brought the prayer to a close.

Me-Ma honestly didn't think much of Katrina, coming onto the Reverend. It was no secret that damn near every woman at the church had fantasies of being the First Lady. The pastor confessed that he was waiting on God to send her to him. Meanwhile preaching on abstinence and waiting on the one God wanted for him. But his most important focus was building his ministry.

“How are you holding up?” Katrina approached and asked Me-Ma. “If I were you, I'd be all to pieces,” she said. “But you look so calm. You don't show one ounce of weariness on your face.”

Me-Ma was a genuine, kind-hearted woman, but she didn't take mess from a soul. She had seen a lot of foolishness and BS in her day. Me-Ma looked the young lady up and down, Keisha she thought her name was. Me-Ma had seen napkins with more material than the girl's skirt, leaving nothing to the imagination, except the price to further explore.

“Listen baby, I hear what they saying, but I know I got God on my side and God has the world in his hands including my grand-daughter. And baby I got faith, and with God who am I afraid of?” she confidently asked.

Me-Ma knew the hot little heifer was only being nosey because the bank robbery was all everybody was talking about and the rumors were spreading faster than an STD in a whorehouse.

“It was an inside job. A million dollars was in the safe.... the bank robbers were Gangsta Disciples from Chicago . . . one of them got away, with the million dollars . . .”

But the one that bothered her the most, “Everyone inside the bank was killed, execution style. . . .”

The story snowballed one after another, each one wilder than the one preceding it. The church held night services three times a week but today's service it was a different kind of energy. As long as it didn't involve them personally, gratuitous violence compelled people to want to talk about it. It didn't matter if it was a bar, on a street corner, or inside a church—human nature was human nature . . . it didn't change.

Me-Ma took a seat on the pew along with a deep breath, and tried to control her mind from wondering to that place of what if?

“Devil get ye behind me.” Me-Ma started to quietly, say to God, “Lord if it was your will, to take her Lord, I just ask you to give me the strength, Lord Jesus.”

Then she felt someone put their hands around her from the back. Me-Ma looked up and Simone was standing there and embraced her with a hug.

With the sight of Simone, Me-Ma, started screaming, “Thank! You! Jesus!” at the top of her lungs. “Thank you Jesus! Halllllleeeluujah!” she said four more times. “My God! My God!” She shook her head and tears begin to form in her eyes.

This prompted all the prayer warriors to start shouting all around the church, Me-Ma fell to the ground and begin crying, thanking God.

The Praise and Worship team surrounded and started singing the gospel hymn, “He has done great things for me. . . Greeaaaat thinggsss . . .”

The rest of the church members started having a big Holy Ghost party while Bunny sat in the last pew of the church with eyes hidden behind her big Chloé sunglasses not effected by the way the Holy Ghost filled the place of worship.

The people shouted around the church and Simone wanted to join them but she felt weird singing with a church choir she hadn't sang with in so long. The only reason she was even there tonight was because she wanted to personally tell Me-Ma that she was okay. It was just something about the pastor that she couldn't put her finger on.

Pastor Cassius' church was filled with a diverse group of colorful characters, of all ages, nationalities, and from all walks of life. The people there were very radical and the fact that they were so dramatic in their acts of praising the Lord, and not to mention, Pastor Cassius, the leader and creator of the whole production, his animated over the top personality, it made Simone wonder if it could really be legit? Or was it a scam or a show?

Pastor Cassius was a whole other story, he was so flamboyant and in her eyes, everything about him screamed nothing short of a seasoned, homosexual pimp—pimping the pulpit.

He had mastered the Bible. He knew it, in and out, and could recite it back and forth. His “game” and passion for the “Lord” was so airtight, that one couldn't help but to respect the self proclaimed “Man of God.”

With the most beautiful coc0a skin that looked like it was softer than a baby's butt, he was definitely an attractive man, to the point that all of his “primping”: the arching of the eyebrows, his big full lips permanently greased with ChapStick along with the pedicures and manicures twice a week, combined with his metrosexual tendencies turned his handsomeness into pretty.

Me-Ma, who was a wise woman, swore up and down that he was a good man that God himself rescued from the harsh world, and he was nothing short but a walking and living testament of what God can do. But Simone never trusted him, with a name like Cassius Street, who could blame her?

Though all these things were true and correct in Simone's eyes, but she couldn't help herself, she had in fact, been blessed and God had spared her from wild bullets that had her name on it. The only exclamation was, that it wasn't God who had jammed the gun of the robber when she thought she was breathing her last breath.

Because of God and Jesus Christ, she was able to live on and see another day and that alone was enough reason to praise the Lord. So, she joined in and gave thanks to the Lord.

Pastor Cassius in his fitted straight leg jeans and cowboy boots stood before Simone, and said with the rest of the church-goers watching and listening to every word about to proceed from his mouth.

“My brothers and sisters, what we have just witnessed with our own eyes is nothing less than the work of the Most High. It's God's unchanging grace. It was only our prayers that lead God to allow not one strand be removed from our sister Simone's head. In the midst of a war at her workplace, in the midst of the crossfires and gunshots and coworkers falling to her left,” he dramatically shifted his weight to his left, “and to her right,” then did the same thing with the right side of his body.

“Ain't God good?” The members started to clap and shout.

His words got the prayer service patrons, even more riled up, the Holy Ghost took over, shouting, praising, and shouting took place for another forty-five minutes. Finally, resulting to a love offering of $212 taken up by Pastor Cassius for Simone.

After the big Holy Ghost party was over, she stood at the door to give, hugs and thanks to the church folks for praying for her. Then Me-Ma whispered, “Make sure you thank Pastor here, baby.”

Simone shot a look at Bunny that said, “Rescue me,” but Bunny with a smirk on her face, just dropped her head but not before giving her a look that said, “I can't help you with this big sister.”

“Thank you Pastor for everything,” Simone said. “I really appreciate your prayers and everything you did,” she shook his hand, and before she knew it, he had taken her into his arms.

“We hug around here.”

“Well, thank you so much for your prayers.”

“It was most definitely my pleasure.” He flashed his pearly whites at her.

“And I think Pastor has something for you,” Me-Ma added.

“Oh yes,” Me-Ma voice prompted his memory, “Yes,” he nodded. “Let's head to my study. Sister, we took a love offering for you and your family.”

“Thank you.” Simone was surprised, at the thoughtfulness of the pastor. She'd always passionately thought he was a money hungry ex-pimp, drug dealer who was only into the ministry because of the lure of a greater hustler. She hated the fact that maybe she'd have to admit that pastor may actually be all right after all. Or maybe God was just dealing with him in his own way.

She had to admit,
Well, I guess if you think and speak something so long, you start to believe it yourself. maybe God is really working on him.
She thought to herself as she followed him to his study.