Born at Dawn by Nigeria Lockley

walked to her front door and propped it open. “Listen, Marv, why don’t you just calm down? I doubt this is anything serious. If she comes by here, I’ll tell her to give you a call, okay? Now, why don’t you run along and get to work. Give my boys a kiss.”
    Marvin inched his way to the door still scanning the apartment for evidence of Cynthia’s presence.
    â€œCome on now, boy. I’ve got to get to work too,” Mildred said waving her hands up and down to shoo Marvin out of the door.
    â€œY’all better not be playing with me,” he said in a menacing tone; then he walked out the door.
    Mildred peered out her living room window, which faced busy Eighth Avenue, and watched Marvin weave through the herds of people and disappear around the corner. She ran to Cynthia’s bedroom, flung the window open, and slid the gate open.
    â€œHurry up. He’s gone, but he had that crazy mad-dog look in his eye. He might walk to the alley to check if you’re out here. Come on. Move it, girl. Move it.”
    Quickly, Cynthia stepped off the fire escape and out of the cold. Mildred hurriedly shut the gate, scraping the heel of Cynthia’s foot. Cynthia collapsed on her daybed with her eyes closed.
    Stroking the stray strands of gray hair that had escaped from her bun, Mildred said, “Just relax. He will keep you in perfect peace if you keep your mind on him.”
    â€œNot now, Ma.” Cynthia sighed.
    â€œIt’s always the right time for Jesus, chile. Don’t start talking foolishness,” Mildred snapped in a warning tone.
    Cynthia sat up in her bed and placed her hands on her hips. “Ma, I don’t mean to be disrespectful, but you’re not there with me when I’m going through, and I’m beginning to doubt that Jesus is either.”
    â€œThat’s true. I’m not there with you, so that’s not disrespectful. That’s just stating the facts, but Jesus is with you always, unless you leave Him out,” Mildred preached pointing at Cynthia. “Listen, next time you want to crash here just call instead of creeping up in here. You almost got you head busted open in Jesus’ name.
    â€œWhile you’re here, maybe you should consider letting Him back in. Try to relax. Stay away from the windows, and whatever you do, don’t open the door. I made breakfast. If you’re hungry, there’s a plate in the microwave.”
    â€œOh God.” Cynthia sighed. “Only a few hours have passed and things are already getting crazy. Maybe I’d better go back home. What will the boys eat for dinner? Dinner; I don’t know if they’ve eaten breakfast.”
    Taking slow, deliberate strides over to Cynthia, Mildred bent down and kissed her forehead. To Mildred it seemed like it was too little too late for Cynthia to begin pondering her actions. Now was a time to pray for Jesus to stretch forth His hand and touch this situation.
    â€œWhatever is going on, I pray Jesus delivers you and strengthens you during this storm. I’m a little nervous about leaving you here alone, but I can’t take any more days off. There is one person I know who can help you in this situation.”
    The precarious mention of a storm was enough to set off a bomb inside of Cynthia. She didn’t understand why everyone chose to refer to the nightmare she was living as just a storm. Why did everyone refer to this nightmare as a storm? This wasn’t torrential rains just passing through. She’d been dealing with this for a long time now, and her deliverance was long overdue.

    Marvin plodded down the marble steps of Mildred’s building after an unsuccessful attempt at playing detective. Mildred’s was his first stop because it was rare for Cynthia to venture outside without first discussing it with him. She didn’t even go into the office without letting him know in advance. Marvin laughed to himself. Cynthia had nowhere