Rustle, Oklahoma

It was 10 o’clock by the time I finished my after-mass duties. Molly, a volunteer, who took care of the children during mass in a separate room joined to the church, entered the main room. She wore a brown skirt that went past her knees, with a brown jacket and a white dress shirt underneath. Her black hair was done up in a ponytail pulled tight.

Molly walked towards me, at four-foot-eleven inches, I had to crane my neck down to look at her. Her wide and warm face stared up at me when she spoke, “I’m going now, Billy. Lenny’s party is at three, right?”

“That’s right but the food won’t be ready until four. I won’t be going to the party though,” I informed her. Taking in the scent of her sweet, cherry perfume. Which wasn’t as heavy like the last time when it left my head swimming.

“Oh, that’s a shame. Why won’t you be there? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Not at all. I’m going to watch over Richard, give Lisa a rest and time to see her friends. Let her cut loose for a day.”

“Cut loose,” Molly said coyly, raising her eyebrows at me with a slight grin showing her deep dimples. “Look at you, you party animal.”

That made me laugh. “No,” I chuckled, “I don’t party anymore. I let the young ones enjoy the party for me.” Our voices filled the empty church. My deep and soft voice echoing off the rafters along with Molly’s high and cheery one.

“Oh,” Molly playfully slapped my arm, “we aren’t so old that we can’t have fun.”

“Heh, those days are over for me. You enjoy it double,” I said to her.

“I will,” Molly turned and walked away. She looked back once more to say, “Bye Billy!”

“Bye Molly,” I said back and sat down at a bench. The clack of her little slip on shoes receded until the place was still. I pulled my flip-phone from my pants pocket and turned it on. I had two miss calls, both from my brother. I called him back but after a couple of rings it went to his voicemail. I left a message asking him to call me back.

I sat at the front on the right side. All alone in the church. I looked up at the stained glass above the cross with a crucified Jesus. I’ve always liked the colors of the glass. Plenty of times when I was a kid, I’d lose myself in my head staring at the colored glass. Daydreaming about what I would rather be doing than sitting in church. Heck, even when I was in high school, when dad would bring Henry and me to church every so often. I would still stare at the glass instead of listening to the preacher. Though at that age, my daydreaming and thoughts were far different than when I was a kid. When I was young, I fantasized about being a star football player scoring touchdowns and earning millions. High school me thought about Carla, about the places I wanted to take her, and our future together.

“Knox!” A shout, full of energy and playfulness, pulled me back to reality. I stood, at the entrance was my brother, Henry. Six feet tall, lean, with swept-back, dark brown hair freshly cut short. He was wearing jeans, an opened collar, short-sleeve blue shirt, and boots. Running ahead of him was little Lenny. He wore his favorite brown t-shirt with a black t-rex skull in the middle of the shirt, blue jeans, with his black sneakers. The boy is skinny just like my brother was at his age.

“Uncle Billy,” my nephew’s sharp, high-pitched voice, shot through the air as he ran at me. I lifted him with one hand into the air and he laughed.

“Lenny! How does it feel to be nine-years-and-a-day old?” I asked jokingly.

“I’m a man now,” the boy said laughing as I put him back on the stone floor.

“A man?” I looked at him incredulously. “Well, if you’re a man now, it’s time for you to get a job.”

“Yeah, I’m going pro,” he said swinging a fake baseball bat.

“If you go pro you gotta buy me a brand-new truck, ya hear?” Henry spoke to his boy in his midwestern accent. His voice back to its usual laziness that sounded like he was dragging out each word over rocks. He mussed Lenny’s short dark-brown hair. Then he turned to me, got into a fighting stance and patted my belly with soft punches. “Billy Knox!” He said my nickname again. The nickname I got playing football in high school. Gained from a game in which the away team kept breaking through our defensive line. Coach, angry and irritated, pulled me close, tugging on my helmet, and said, “Billy! Get your head in the damn game! I want that line to be as impenetrable as Fort Knox!” After that, I knocked man after man down. Shutting down our opponents plays. The cheers from the crowd and praise from my teammates strengthened my resolve to hold the line.

“Little brother,” I said to Henry who kept throwing his playful punches. The gel in his hair kept the strands from going this way and that. It’s the same color as his boy’s. I covered my body with my wide arms, blocking his light attacks, and said, “Shouldn’t you be getting ready for the party?”

Henry stopped punching, pulled back, and smiled, “That’s what I’m doing. Want to tag along with Lenny and me? I’m going to grab the meat, some drinks, chips, and Lenny wants a chocolate bar.”

“Snickers!” Lenny said excitedly.

“You’re barely getting the meat?” I asked as I rolled up the sleeves of my black, clergy long-sleeve shirt. “Cutting it close ain’t ya?”

“Naw, we got time. It’s only ten. Should be done shopping by eleven and prepping by twelve or so. Plus, Bob has the meat ready to go. I just have to drop by and pick it up. So, you comin’ or what?”

“Sure, let me lock up.”

“Alright, we’ll be waiting in the truck,” Henry said then left with little Lenny.

I exited the church through a side door. I had locked the large, brown, wooden doors the members enter through from the inside. The sky is bright blue, the sun shining and yellow with few puffy, white clouds sailing above. It was a cool seventy-degrees, I run hot, so I wore only my all-black preacher clothes. A slight, cool breeze met me as I turned the corner into the dirt, parking lot where my brother and nephew awaited in a 2005 blue Ford pickup. Henry waved at me out the open window. I stroke my receding, light-brown widow’s peak as I walked around the truck and entered the passenger side.

“Ready?” Henry asked as he turned the key in the ignition.

“Yup,” I buckled up and patted Lenny’s head. He sat between me and my brother.

“Let’s go,” Henry said, reversed, put the truck in drive and drove onto the street in front of the church. He took a left, heading down Cobb Street to enter the main road through town. Henry stopped at a stop sign, waiting for a chance to enter the main road as cars went by at a slow twenty-five. Lenny turned on the radio. Folk rock played through the stereo. Henry took a right onto the main road heading into downtown.

Every store could be seen as you went up and down the road. We passed turns into streets leading to apartments and homes. With the windows down, the cool wind blew into the truck. Bringing along with it the smell of the juniper trees planted along the sidewalks. The smell of cedar mixed with the smell of whatever small restaurant we passed. Engines, the occasional shout, and the hum from the truck came through the opened window.

The town was always lively on the weekend. People walked the sidewalks going to small mom and pop shops, restaurants, bars, barbershops and salons. Some were perhaps going down Leaf Street to head to Rustle’s only park, named Willow Park. Often, events are held there such as small sports games between residents of Rustle or against some neighboring town or some youth programs will invite families to participate in activities with their children or the city would hold cookouts to raise money. At times the church, meaning me, will also go there to hold a fundraising event or small church activities for the children which were ran mainly by Molly.

“Where are we going first?” I asked my brother.

“We’re going to the market for the drinks and chips—”

“And my Snickers,” Lenny reminded his dad.

“—and Lenny’s snickers. Don’t worry bud, I didn’t forget. And, if you’re up for a little walk, then we’ll stroll on down to Dole’s to grab the meats.”

“It’s a nice day, a walk would be good. How’s Mary?” I asked.

“She’s fine, you know how she is, enjoys planning and preparing parties. She’s going to grab the cake later. Right now, she’s at home waiting for the bounce house we rented. By the way, mind coming over and help setting up the tables and chairs?”

“Of course. Why,” I shook my head at Henry, “what are big brother’s for?”