It was an unholy meetup, although it was happening right there in the holiest of places: in church. She was recovering from something. Something that was to leave her with visible as well as audible scars? And he? Was recovering from something too, something somewhat of a different sort, like a scarred past. Most of which cannot face the light of day. But he has a heart of gold, or more like a heart of diamonds. "A diamond heart?" Perhaps. Many folks said it was the pressurized process he had been through and managed to survive that would have brought him to his current state of being and made him out to be the ever-so-in-demand person he had managed to become.

Gervis was a master musician (among other things) and a devoted worker in the church. In recent times, he has been rising up the holy ladder of ministry to become the secretary-treasurer for the men's fellowship department. He was mentoring boys into becoming better men, better husbands, and fathers.

Brother Gervis was fast becoming an icon and a staple in the church. The women revered him, including my mother and my sister, Amy.

Most of the young women just wanted to get their claws into him, including my sister, Amy. Folks said it was those women who would have drawn him into the church, chiefly my sister Amy. That's what the women in my bloodline always seemed to do. They go off to church, dragging their male folks along with them, kicking and screaming, even. That was what mom did to her children. That's exactly what she did to me.

The very first chance these selfsame male folks will get to get out of there, though. That's what they usually do, just like me. That was exactly what I did.

We usually go off searching for other types of women folks. The types who are oftentimes ever so very delighted to go dragging us off into some other, much more fun direction. Doing much more fun things. Screaming yes, but not necessarily kicking. At least not as much nor as hard as we were before, these types of women tend to get my mojo going every single time. These are the types I adore. If I love them? Yes, you've guessed it right, I do.

So, sister Mills was sitting in the front row seats. In terms of her getting the first pick over Brother Gervis. She was on top of the pile, so to speak. And therefore, she had the first pick at the lottery draw to get him, per the theory. And so, she did just that. She'd ventured out to exercise her options at the very first chance that was to present itself.

Brother Gervis was on the keyboard doing his usual thing?-?playing an interlude while the testimony service dragged on. It was Sister Mills' turn to testify, and she wasn't going to miss this opportunity to stake out her claim on the man. Sister Mills was a woman with a scarred beauty?-?yes. But she was a survivor, too. She was recovering from cancer at the time, cancer of the throat. This slightly altered the tone of her voice, but other than that, she was as classy as they come. Always immaculately dressed and well-spoken, other than for the tiny speech impediment. And she was always chauffeured around in her big Lincoln Towncar by her ever-so-loyal and attentive chauffeur, Gus. Also known as Angus, or is it the other way around, the bus? What difference does it make?

So then, she met up with this man who came to church. With scars of a different sort. Gervis was his name. Or was it Gervis who met up with her when he took to church life as a replacement for his previous tug life? Either way, he was there. Gervis was a man with a badly scarred past, but he has a heart of gold, and is at this point? In the church. What Sister Mills think of him? Like, who she thought he was and what he was after, conflicted greatly with who he really was and what he was really after. She was into the finer things of life, alright, and he?

He was going about trying to refine things. Or just a couple of things that he thought were the only things that mattered in life after all. He was out to save himself and his son. He wanted to remake himself and win full custody of his son. Brother Gervis and sister Mills ran into each other there in the church. She had been watching him for quite some time, it would have seemed, just like all the rest of those women were. Because after an otherwise insignificant verbal exchange between them, where he had inquired into the cause of the neck scar, the inner thoughts, her inner thoughts, which were incubating inside her, seemingly, the desires she had cherished for months, years, probably. Those desires suddenly popped out like chickens from the hatch, and she ran with them.

He followed along for a while. Trying to glean whatever insights he could garner on the inner workings of the minds of these sorts of members of the opposite sex. And to figure out what makes them function. His findings, and what little of it that can face the light of day, were, as could be expected, very controversial, to say the least. He had merely asked about the scar, how she came to have it. She took hold of a microphone and announced, "he wants to check me out." She then went on a show-and-tell episode. Baring her soul in what one might conclude was a misguided effort at winning the man. Will she? Let's see.

At this point, everyone sitting around was (seemingly) interested in what was going on in front of them. He was sitting there at the piano. He was a brilliant musician, Brother Gervis was playing, dragging the others along, the other "Not-so-good musician wannabes." But then came Sis. Mills, standing up for the rights of speaking again, and then Brother G was gone. After he got up and left, nobody wanted to hear any more of what was left of the "Musicians," so they also split, one after the other, until they were all gone.

So now, the question is, why does a woman behave the way she does? In particular, why did this one woman behave in that manner? And what effect did her behavior have on the real outcomes and the schemes of such things? This versus a man's behavior in this and other such circumstances. Like, this one particular man's behavior and desire, as it were? The causes and effects of things one might say.

Gervis was a gangbanger of the worst kind in former times. Amy, my darling l'il sister was deep into him. That was after he was taken into the churched life. She has her whole heart set on winning him over. But unlike most of the other women who were out to get him. She was taking things slowly indeed. She had already broken one of the church's cardinal rules once before, when she went out and got pregnant, out of wedlock. She didn't want to go repeating and reviving the sin monsters. Amy was in college at the time when she got pregnant, and was also very active in the church. They had gone on a camping trip with the Sunday school department when she first met him. Gordon is his name. A strong, well-built hunk of a young man.

Perfect body measurements, even skin tone, and a confidently handsome face. But there was nothing between the ears, according to Amy. "It seemed as if the gods must have given young Mister Gordon a head for one purpose and one purpose only." She had said. "And that purpose? It is to wear fine hats of all shapes, sizes, and colors." He added a much-enhanced flavor to the youth camp that year, though. She was much too fascinated by him to notice the real Gordon in those early days, it would have seemed. They started dating right away and very soon afterward. She fell for his magnetism and charms and got pregnant for him.

How surprised she was to become, at the number of folks, mainly church folks, whose pieces of advice to her, mostly so-called "motherly advice," were to abort it. Those were the hardest things for her to swallow. She understood it when it was coming from classmates and friends at school. But coming from the people in the church, her very own church? She never saw that one coming.

"I'm keeping my child," she declared firmly and forcefully. That was what she did, as for the young man, this Gordon chap. There? right there, was where any and every hope he might have cherished of having a long-term relationship with Amy ended. "Thanks for my child," she told him. "And have a great life, you deserve it."

But it was not going to be with her. She was done with him, for good.

To be continued.

WritingElk.