BLACKBiiRDS

4 | R O M A N

M A R C H  1 7 ,  2 0 1 6 | T H U R S D A Y

The doors of Greater Faith Baptist Church were always open. 

Although it rested in the center of Little Woods, a small, dilapidated neighborhood in New Orleans Louisiana, no knucklehead was disrespectful enough to violate its sacred grounds. It was one of the first (and few) renovations to reach completion over the past six years. 

It's exterior resembled many of the neighboring homes on the street. If a tourist ever dared to venture into the depths of Nola's East and ride past Greater Faith, they'd probably mistake it for another home. But with it's repaved stairs and walkway, newly paned black windows, and the four-foot-high brick foundation, the small-town church was Little Woods' pride and joy.

It also had been Roman Carter's retreat for the past two months.

Rewind sixteen years, before the church's rebuild, before one of America's greatest natural disasters, and before Roman's grandmother, Theresa Lynn Carter passed on, Roman had spent nearly every Sunday morning and every other Wednesday evening within the walls of this church. He'd formed a bond with Greater Faith since he was seven years old, a braided connection between him and Maw Teedy, with God being the center cord.

He sat in the second to first pew, head bowed and hands clasped against his forehead, mulling in the emotions of his past. A throaty chuckle escaped as he remembered Teedy embracing him under her wing. Literally.

One Friday night, after his mother, Annette, dropped both her sons off to spend the weekend with Melvin's, Roman's older brother's, father, Roman decided to sneak out the house to follow his brother who'd just done so ten minutes prior.

Long story short, both Roman and Melvin were caught, but it was Roman that caught the most heat. He was banned by Melvin's stepmom to visit their house again. So Roman and Melvin's weekends, from there on out, were spent separated.

Seven year old Roman sat hunched on his Maw's fabric-covered sofa, (much like how he was seated now as a twenty-three-year-old) with his cheek resting on his fist, the other hand balled up as well, his chest heaving as he listened to his mother snitch on him like she was his older sister instead of his supposed caregiver and guardian.

As soon as Annette swayed her hips out the front door, after telling Roman to "be good" over her shoulder, MawMaw Teedy snatched her grandson up from the sofa with an unyielding pinch to the back of his neck. She fussed him down good, reprimanding him for the damage he'd caused the houses and windows of three people in the neighborhood by throwing rocks and eggs.

All the while she busied herself around her well-lived in kitchen, fixing Roman a supper of leftover smothered chicken and rice, and fresh-made buttermilk biscuits because, apparently, his arms were too skinny to be throwing rocks anyway.

Sixteen years had not wilted any of the emotions from that night. To this day, he was overwhelmed with the vicious love that only his grandmother drew out of him. That tiny little lady, with a sharp tongue, that she rarely bridled for anyone, saved that seven-year-olds life.

Roman let out another wounded sob, this time followed by a throat quivering breath, sniffling like a big ass baby. He was bawling his eyes out so hard, you'd think it was his grandmother that just passed away two and a half months ago. But MawMaw Teedy been gone for five years now.

It was Roman's only brother, Melvin Carter, who'd been murdered in the gritty streets of North Philadelphia.

Roe swallowed his pain, and mustered the strength to ask for help. "Lord, I know you hear me and you know what I'm dealin' with," his voice cracked, "You know what'll happen if I go back up to Philly. I know you said, vengeance is yours, but I can't let this one go. They took the last person who cares about me. The closest thing to me. I need some help. Some guidance. I can't stay here in Nola. Help me, Jesus. Please. I'm so lost right now—"