Post-Mortem Melodies

I Know by Big Sean ft. Jhene Aiko Part One

It was a beautiful day and the Glory Bound Baptist Church had just finished Sunday service. As the church emptied of people, Pastor Robert Givens stood at the pulpit talking to church members with his wife, Sister Loretta at his side. 

A tall and imposing man, Pastor Givens had been the pastor of the church for twenty years. The love he had for the lord and the love he received from his God and his congregation reflected tenfold his church.

God blessed pastor Givens with a beautiful wife and a beautiful daughter. He wanted for nothing and could provide his family with only the best, by the grace of God. Though it was a sin, the women of the church resented Sister Loretta for being the woman who shared Pastor Givens' bed. You wouldn't see that resentment in their faces as they talked to the woman while her husband talked with their husbands.

JoLee Givens stood near the piano waiting for her parents to give her the 'ok' to go home. Her feet hurt in her heels and her bra had been digging into her back all morning. 

While her parents talked with members of the church, JoLee fantasized about ripping her bra off, wrapping her hair up in a scarf and getting ahead on some of her reading. She'd leave now if she had the balls, but her mother would want her to stay until the last person left. They had to set a good example, after all.

"Is everything set for the church picnic next week? I won't have a repeat of last year when the jumper arrived late. And damaged," Loretta's voice reached JoLee over the din of chatter from old church ladies who still hadn't left the church yet. It was women like them that turned church into a six-hour affair.

"Yes, ma'am." Her mother's assistant chirped back.

Loretta continued, "As for entertainment, let it be known on the programs that our daughter will be singing-"

"Wait what?" this was the first JoLee had heard of all this.

Loretta blinked twice and turned towards her daughter with warning in her eyes, "It's the least you could do. You were supposed to be my assistant on this project."

Heat burned at the back of JoLee's eyes, "Mom, I told you I couldn't because I had class-"

"Ah, yes. Class. And how is that going, may I ask? Last I checked, it wasn't hard to point a camera at some fruit." Loretta fanned herself calmly. As her words rubbed against her daughter's skin like barbed wire, she turned towards the church women still gathered around her, still listening.

"Our JoLee got into USC," she said proudly to the women, "We had hoped that she would pursue religious studies or at least become a doctor." The disappointment on her face was like lemon juice on an open wound. JoLee swallowed the lump in her throat and remained silent. She'd brought this on herself for opening her mouth.

Besides, what could she say against her mother? Out of habit more than anything, JoLee flicked her eyes over to her father. He watched her mother with a disappointed look in his eyes, but his lips remained closed. When the next member of the congregation stepped up to talk to him, the look was gone, and he was smiling. Just as she expected.

JoLee turned her face to the side and waited for the tears to fall so she could wipe them away and get this over with. The line up to her father was getting shorter, and once he was ready to leave, her mother would put on a show of obeying her husband. JoLee had a long car ride of insults disguised as advice to look forward to before she could be home, alone in her apartment. She couldn't crack right now.

"Well, she's still young. Maybe she'll get some sense." Loretta turned back to the church assistant, "Now where were we?"

Like that, the moment was over. JoLee was left embarrassed, and her mother had already moved on to something more important. Sister Loretta turned her back on her daughter and led the church assistant and a gaggle of church ladies into the front office so they could continue with the planning of church activities.

An unfamiliar voice from the back of the church interrupted, "Pastor Givens, that was a very moving service-" An old man's voice, most likely Deacon Charles. There a man stood in sagging jeans, a denim jacket, and a white t-shirt.

"This is nice church, funny what my money can buy." Though he smiled when he talked, JoLee felt the threat in his words, like they were directed at her. But the man only had eyes for her father, who's shoulder's had gone tight and his eyes hard.

"Deacon, would you allow me to talk to this... guest? We can continue our conversation in a moment." Her father was trying his best at a charming smile, but JoLee could see something in his eyes that didn't match up with what he was trying to pretend he was feeling.

She'd never seen her father act this way before. And she'd never seen this man before in her life. He was tall with his hair braided back on top and a fresh fade on the back and sides of his head. His beard was manicured and well care for. 

And every inch of him glinted gold. From his chain to the watch on his wrist. The metal details on his shoes to the grill in his mouth, visible when he bared his teeth at her father.

If his outfit wasn't enough of a sign, that California hood nigga accent he had in his voice tipped her off exactly what kind of man had walked into her father's church. Either a gangbanger or a gang member. Either way, he knew her father. JoLee wanted to know how.

"JoLee, can you tell your mother I'll meet her at the car in five minutes?" Pastor Givens asked once Deacon Charles excused himself from the room.

JoLee knew a dismissal when she heard one. With a last look at her father, JoLee left the two men alone.

Jolie woke up with a gasp. There was nothing but darkness around her, and the bed was cold. With trembling fingers, she gropes for a light, any source of light. Her fingers wrap around a slim, stiff piece of metal. Her phone. Relief feels like a wave of cold that knocks her flat to the bed. Careful not to blind herself, she unlocks her phone and calls the one person who would understand.

Killmonger answered on the second ring with a gruff, "Yeah, what up?" Jolie could hear music and women laughing in the background. He was probably at one of his clubs. She knew he wouldn't listen to that shit they were playing on the speakers voluntarily.

"You should come over." Jolie said bravely.

Killmonger snorted. She heard the music growing fainter. He must have gone into another room. "You tryna smoke?" it was a challenge. He knew Jolie didn't enjoy smoking as much as she enjoyed drinking. Weed was Killmonger's only vice, aside from her.

"If you bring some sativa, I'll take a few hits." Jolie sounded braver than she actually felt. If there was anything growing up in a church taught her was how to sound like you were having the time of your life even while dying inside. On the phone, she sounded like her usual flirty, bratty self. The woman Killmonger enjoyed most.

Killmonger wouldn't like the shaking mess she currently was. He didn't come to her for angst or drama. He came to her because she was a good time and could match his energy.

"Say less, I'll be there after I wrap up some business here." Jolie smiled in relief, thankful that he couldn't see it.

"Thank you, Daddy." Jolie crooned into the phone.

"Keep it wet for me, baby." He hung up before Jolie could say anything.