Church Girl

She was the usher on duty that day. As it was every third Sunday of the month. She loved being stationed at the main entrance. It was her favorite spot. Here, she would see the body of Christ-the church-in its rawness. The frustrated faces. The expectant ones. The confused ones. The excited ones. All different faces. She wore a pink tag that read ‘Usher on Duty’ that cut across her chest. Lying perfectly like that is where it was meant to be. To complement the tag, she wore a baby pink scarf, a long flowing Ankara skirt, a loose V-neck skirt and the Holy Spirit. He on the other hand cared less about the how he looked. He had an oversize coat, skinny jeans and brown cowboy boots. This was his every day look. He was a biker so he was always accompanied by his helmet.

As a routine, she said ‘hi’ and extend a hand. He shook her hand, it was soft and velvety. Before he took the program of the day, their eyes locked and the handshake was prolonged. He knew this was good as done, but this was church. Though he had very little respect for many places, he revered God’s house. As a child, he was taught is a sacred place. Besides, she was a church girl. And church girls are meant to be holy. But for him, nothing is taboo. He tightened the grip of the handshake and then winked. She winked back, smiled and said, ‘have a blessed service.’ He then told her, “I’d be more blessed if I got your number at the end of the service’ and walked inside the church taping on his helmet-now under his left arm- with the pointing finger.

The service went on smoothly. On this day, there was a guest speaker. A visiting minister from the neighboring country with a heavy accent. A Spanish with a heart for the African lost souls. He said he was called to minister to the lost. I assume it is only Africa that has lost souls yet the West is the root of all evils. He particularly had a bias for young men. Young men who refused to fully commit to God. As the preacher was speaking, the guy was thinking about the girl at the entrance of the church, he missed the better part of the service as he thought about her. On the day his mind is to be fixed on Christ, it was wandering, thinking about her, thinking about the usher’s tag.

The service was taking longer than usual. The visiting minister got all excited and went on and on and on. The rest of the congregation was all excited and immersed into the word. He was restless and lost. He always came to church to look for answers.  But now with the new reality, his quest was drifting far away from him. He had a date at mid-day and a number to get before then.

When service ended, he deliberately left among the last people. At the entrance, the girl was waiting for him. Well, not really waiting since she was still on duty. She asked him, ‘did you enjoy the service sir?’ He replied, ’very much, I particularly loved the speaker of the day’ He lied. He couldn’t even remember the verse of the day. He hadn’t heard a thing. She handed him a tithing envelope and said, ‘oh, sorry I forgot to give you this on your way in.’ He smiled and said, ‘thanks. Have a good day miss. See you Sunday.’

When he got to his bike and before he could wear the riding gloves, he decided to check the envelope. It was odd to be giving a tithing envelope on the third Sunday of the month because tithing Sunday is always on the second Sunday of the month. On the inner side, it had a number with the title, ‘tithing number.’ It was her phone number. He smiled. He already liked this girl. She would be such a good sport. He started his bike, and almost rode off without putting on the helmet.

He made it for his date on time. This was another girl he met in traffic. They would meet on the road every morning. And because she loved bikes, she would honk and he would acknowledge by revving his bike. A Harley-Davidson Softail Street Bob. One day, the traffic was slowly moving, he slowed down next to the driver’s window, getting the cue, she lowered her window. He handed her his business card, it read, ‘Business Development Manager. He worked in a logistics firm. It had a small note on the back, ‘my bike has a space for one.’ She got it, in the evening, because she doesn’t believe in missed opportunities, she texted him, ‘I have a helmet in the house.’ This was now their third date. He didn’t know what to make of it, but she was a good catch. Solid. Reliable. Committed and very beautiful.

As they waited for their meal, she asked him, ‘how was church?’ Absent minded he answered, ‘beautiful.’ He had the usher girl in his mind. And now there was an elephant in the room, her number. Every now and then, he would reach into his pocket and fill the tithe envelope. It reminded him of her. The rest of the date was stale. His mind was all over the place, actually, it was still in church, at the entrance only that there was nothing churchy about it. She complained the he felt distant and asked him if there was something bothering him. ‘Nothing babe (it was the first time he called her babe.)’ She was both shocked and excited, but she knew for sure there’s something bothering him. She pried. ‘You know you can always talk to me.’  He said that he had a deal he needed to close in the coming week. The biggest his company had ever landed. It would transform their business he said. That it bothered him a little. Again, he lied. Lied for a girl he barely knew. Lied for a church girl.

After the lunch, he said he needed to go home and work on the numbers. He had promised to hang out with her the whole afternoon. He apologized that he couldn’t and said he will make up for it. She said since she had no other plans, she was going to read her book before she goes to get her nails done. She was reading Junot Diaz’s book, ‘This is how you lose Her.’ It was like a premonition.

When living the parking lot, he almost hit a child. Something that has never happened. He was a careful rider. Five years of riding and not even a minor accident. He had left his mind with her.

On the other hand, in church, her mind was still racing. She wasn’t sure anymore if it was a good thing she gave put her number. It was the first time she had done that. Many times she’d been asked for her number, but she would politely turn down the request. Every time she had declined to give someone her number, the next time she will be on duty, the dude would show up in church and go to the next usher just to spite her. She had gotten used to it. But for this guy, she gave out her number without any worry in the world. She wasn’t sure why she did it. But she felt led to do it. Holy ghost. She offered it in a tithe envelope even. Like giving off herself. She wondered whether he would ever call. Or it was all wasted effort. At the ushers brief she said that the services were well attended.

In the evening, as she was having her devotions, she gets a text: ‘Hi beautiful, the tithe number didn’t have a name to it.’ She almost drops her phone. It was him! He had texted!

After a while, she texted back, ‘Call me church girl.’

They chatted for the rest of the evening. She worked as nurse at city hospital and was sick (no pun) of meeting married men who would hit on her while their wives were in the delivery room. Before that, he had received a text from the other girl. ‘Babe (she had taken his cue), did you finish working on the numbers?’ But before he could reply it, he sent the church girl a reply saying,’ I know what you mean, married men can be so manner less.” He then wrote to ‘his girl’ and said, “I am working on the final number.” He felt a tinge of guilt gush down his through like a huge chunk of meat. He was here lying to ‘his girl’ with a church girl. And lying to a church girl. He shrugged, I am not married anyway. When ‘his girl’ said goodnight, he was relieved. He would stop living a lie, at least for now.

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