The Banks Sisters by Nikki Turner

faith, and with God who am I afraid of?” she confidently asked.
    Me-Ma knew the hot little heifer was only being nosey because the bank robbery was all everybody was talking about and the rumors were spreading faster than an STD in a whorehouse.
    â€œIt was an inside job. A million dollars was in the safe.... the bank robbers were Gangsta Disciples from Chicago . . . one of them got away, with the million dollars . . .”
    But the one that bothered her the most, “Everyone inside the bank was killed, execution style. . . .”
    The story snowballed one after another, each one wilder than the one preceding it. The church held night services three times a week but today’s service it was a different kind of energy. As long as it didn’t involve them personally, gratuitous violence compelled people to want to talk about it. It didn’t matter if it was a bar, on a street corner, or inside a church—human nature was human nature . . . it didn’t change.
    Me-Ma took a seat on the pew along with a deep breath, and tried to control her mind from wondering to that place of what if?
    â€œDevil get ye behind me.” Me-Ma started to quietly, say to God, “Lord if it was your will, to take her Lord, I just ask you to give me the strength, Lord Jesus.”
    Then she felt someone put their hands around her from the back. Me-Ma looked up and Simone was standing there and embraced her with a hug.
    With the sight of Simone, Me-Ma, started screaming, “Thank! You! Jesus!” at the top of her lungs. “Thank you Jesus! Halllllleeeluujah!” she said four more times. “My God! My God!” She shook her head and tears begin to form in her eyes.
    This prompted all the prayer warriors to start shouting all around the church, Me-Ma fell to the ground and begin crying, thanking God.
    The Praise and Worship team surrounded and started singing the gospel hymn, “He has done great things for me. . . Greeaaaat thinggsss . . .”
    The rest of the church members started having a big Holy Ghost party while Bunny sat in the last pew of the church with eyes hidden behind her big Chloé sunglasses not effected by the way the Holy Ghost filled the place of worship.
    The people shouted around the church and Simone wanted to join them but she felt weird singing with a church choir she hadn’t sang with in so long. The only reason she was even there tonight was because she wanted to personally tell Me-Ma that she was okay. It was just something about the pastor that she couldn’t put her finger on.
    Pastor Cassius’ church was filled with a diverse group of colorful characters, of all ages, nationalities, and from all walks of life. The people there were very radical and the fact that they were so dramatic in their acts of praising the Lord, and not to mention, Pastor Cassius, the leader and creator of the whole production, his animated over the top personality, it made Simone wonder if it could really be legit? Or was it a scam or a show?
    Pastor Cassius was a whole other story, he was so flamboyant and in her eyes, everything about him screamed nothing short of a seasoned, homosexual pimp—pimping the pulpit.
    He had mastered the Bible. He knew it, in and out, and could recite it back and forth. His “game” and passion for the “Lord” was so airtight, that one couldn’t help but to respect the self proclaimed “Man of God.”
    With the most beautiful coc0a skin that looked like it was softer than a baby’s butt, he was definitely an attractive man, to the point that all of his “primping”: the arching of the eyebrows, his big full lips permanently greased with ChapStick along with the pedicures and manicures twice a week, combined with his metrosexual tendencies turned his handsomeness into pretty.
    Me-Ma, who was a wise woman, swore up and down that he was a good man that God himself rescued from the harsh world, and he was nothing