Page 81 of The Mob: Shio Cuppacio
I continued pulling her behind me as we moved toward the end of the hall. I was ready to get this shit over with so I could get back to my people and smoke. Bad enough, Glow had my dick harder than arithmetic. Around my folks, I could at least relax and no longer be turned on. I was surprised they had even taken a nap. They took up her energy with someone always being in her face, so she and I wouldn’t be paying each other much attention once we got back.
Taking one last look at Glow as we reached the double door, I tapped the back of her hand with my thumb as she swallowed hard. Pushing the right door open, she jumped as bass flowed from the soundproof room. We were entering the worship hall, or what used to be the worship hall. Though no praise-worthy sermons or catching the holy spirit went on in here anymore, there were still rows of pews that were empty and a choir stand at the head of the room.
“What the Hell! What the Hell! What the Helly! What the Helliyuntaaae!”
“Really, Tunan?” Glow’s eyes were on the choir in front of us, even though her question was directed at me.
About ten singers were in black robes as their director stood in front of them, dressed the same except his dragged the floor. “Sopranos! Take it!” He pointed at a section of robed singers.
“What the Helly-on! What the Helly-Berry! What the Helly-’Burton! What the Helly Bron James!” they sang in perfect high-pitched voices.
Pulling Glow along, who was still fascinated by the choir rehearsal, I cleared my throat once we got to the stage. The director turned, and when his eyes landed on Glow, a sinful smile appeared, showing open-faced gold teeth. Pinky from Friday had to have been this nigga’s brother because he looked exactly like him, down to the wet-ass Jheri curl. His voice was even all screechy, matching the look of his sketchy ass.
“Choir, hum it out,” he instructed, and the choir began to hum and rock side to side.
This wasn’t a traditional choir, just as it wasn’t a traditional church. Concerts of local artists and open mic nights were held here from time to time, and sometimes, neighboring hoods brought their choirs and had a sing-off. It was a whole-ass thing. When my mama first brought Tulsaire here, the little nigga was laughing for a week straight. Her loving the Haunted House was one of the reasons why her ass was always wanting to be out here in the hood instead of being put up like we intended.
Not feeling the way he was eyeing Glow, I stepped up. “Aye, nigga! This ain’t that. Go grab one of them hoes you got in the back room.”
He held his arms up, robe flapping, while his grin never wavered. “Just admiring the beauty, young blood. I’m Pastor Lucifer.”
Glow frowned. “Lucifer? As in… the devil?”
“Yeah, some say I’m worse, though, pretty lady.” His evil grin broadened.
Pastor Lucifer was a motherfucker who never hid his true nature. The nigga used to own this church back when I was a kid, and it used to be a decent place. He got caught fucking on the neighborhood women, shaming his wife and making the whole congregation leave his ass. His wife and a few of the church’s board members ended up dead, and while he was fighting the case, the city shut the church down. The nigga beat the case, and a year later, he reopened the church as the Haunted House.
He was the worst kind of fucked up, but I couldn’t lie as if this place hadn’t been helpful to the community. Even his ghetto choir got paid to compete. Hell, if women needed a quick come up, they could try their luck at the slot machines or sell that pussy in the back room where Pastor Lucifer would get a small fee. He was a motherfucker, but he was fair to an extent, so people fucked with him. Everybody knew the nigga killed them folks, but the hood kept that shit concealed. Wasn’t shit much that could be done anyway; he’d beat the charges.
“What you need, Payne?” He shifted his attention to Glow to me.
“I need you to marry us.”
“Wait! Him? The devil about to marry us?” Glow’s eyes widened as she pulled her hand from mine.
“This nigga ain’t no fucking devil, my baby. He’s an officiant, so he can get us right,” I assured her.
Pulling the papers from my back pocket, I handed them to Pastor Lucifer. He took them, eyes scanning over the various pages, and the way his smile fell toward the end, I chuckled.
“Well, damn. The pussy must beimmaculate. What the fuck you gaining from this shit, Payne?”
Glow’s face reddened, so I snatched the papers back. “None of ya fucking business, Luci. Now, let’s get this shit poppin’ so we can be on our way and y’all can keep singing Rob49.”
“Fuck you, Payne. Y’all come on. I got another wedding in ten minutes, so we gotta make this shit snappy.”
Hesitantly, Glow let me lead her onto the stage. Once we faced each other, I placed the papers on the podium and straightened my shoulders. She wiped her palms down the front of her skirt as the choir's hum became louder.
“Wait. Can they sing “Young and Beautiful” by Lana Del Ray?”
Pastor Lucifer nodded and lifted his hands. “You heard the lady. From the top!”
The choir began to harmonize a tune that was familiar to me, but I couldn’t pin it. It was probably some shit I heard on TV.
“Aite. Y’all got some vows?”
I shook my head. “Nah.”
“Aite, I’ll use mine then. Hold hands.”
