Excerpt

Home Goin'

by E.M. Lacey

Little Patrick McPherson normally liked church. He enjoyed the music, the colors, the big hats, and the happy. Patrick especially liked his church—kid's church. At kid's church, he was given snacks, made crafts, played games, and sang happy songs. Patrick also liked getting dressed up in his big boy clothes, which sometimes came with shiny shoes. It was just like Halloween—only fancy.

Today church was sad. There were no colors. There was lots of crying and songs that sounded like wailing ghosts. Something was wrong. He and his mama, Annalise McPherson, were in church on a Tuesday and not Sunday. When they were getting ready, she wouldn't let him wear any color with his big boy ensemble. She usually let him wear his Spiderman socks or an Ironman tie, but not today. When she laid out his church clothes Patrick noticed that she didn't take his fun clothes out, so he asked why.

"You have to wear black," Annalise replied as she created a loop then pulled his sky-blue tie through it. Patrick noticed she didn't look at him. Usually when she dressed him, she would sneak in a kiss on his nose or forehead. She would say that her lips slipped. His mama's lips were really clumsy.

Patrick frowned. "But no one can see them," he whined.

Annalise finished straightening Patrick's tie then looked him in the eye. "God can see them." When she picked up his black vest, Patrick held out his arms so his mama could slide it on him. She buttoned it up and then they left for church.

Patrick didn't argue with his mama after that. There wasn't much he could say to counter that. God could see everything, he thought, as he followed his mama quietly from the house to the car. It was what he learned at Sunday school. If God could see Patrick's socks that meant he would have to wear boring white. Patrick sighed. He didn't like it. If he could dress himself maybe God would let him wear his Ironman socks today. Patrick was four years old and had only tried getting ready once. He managed to get his pants on backwards, forgot to put on his underwear, and could never get his shoes on the right foot. His mama promised he could try again in a year. Patrick wished next year was now and that he wasn't stuck in not-so-fun church, on a weekday, perched on a really hard pew.

Gazing up at the picture of Jesus, he wondered if Jesus would be mad at his boredom. Patrick couldn't help it. He liked Jesus. He liked church, too, but sitting still was really hard.

Patrick's eyes drifted over to the clock. It had big numbers but he couldn't tell time. Patrick huffed, folding his hands in his lap. He watched his feet swing. It had to be time to go by now. It felt like he had been sitting still forever so he asked his mama if they would be leaving soon. She told him the service had only been going on for ten minutes. Patrick had no idea how long ten minutes was but it must have been a little bit of time for grownups. Ten minutes was still forever to him, so Patrick asked if he could go and play with the other kids. His mama frowned at him. She also said, "No." Shoulders slumping, he began to swing his legs faster.

The preacher droned on about a home goin'. He didn't know what it meant even though his mama had explained it to him twice. She said it was like a party for grandma, Nana Bee. Patrick looked at all the faces, noted the frowns and the tears, and thought it wasn't much of a party. At least not the kind Nana Bee would like. There was no music. No dancing. No laughing, and no playing—boring.

The pew was making Patrick's butt hurt, so he wiggled. His mama gave him the look. So he stopped. He waited until his mama's attention was back with the preacher before he slowly slid forward. Placing his hands on the pew in front of him, he pulled up so his eyes were clear of the wooden back. There was a box in front of the stage. He liked it. Nana Bee was sleeping inside. There were pretty flowers all around it. Patrick smiled then frowned. His mama had told him a lie.

When Patrick's mama told him last week that Nana Bee had gone home, he snuck out of the house and went two houses down to check … nothing, and he told his mama so. Nana Bee wasn't there. Mama then said Nana Bee had gone with God and that they would no longer be able to see her. His mama did say that Nana Bee would still watch over them. Patrick laughed when she said it, which got him sent to his room. His mama said he was being insensitive and silly. She even said that it wasn't nice to make fun of the dead. Patrick knew that, but he couldn't help his laughter. Nana Bee was rolling her eyes and making faces behind his mama's back. Nana Bee also moved her mouth, like she was talking, but there was no sound. She looked different, too. Nana Bee was dark-skinned and very round. She always gave the best hugs, the kind that gobbled you up in a good way, but Patrick could see through her. Patrick tried to tell his mama that Nana Bee was still there, but that only made her hug him, cry, and then run from the room.

A tap on Patrick's shoulder pulled him from frustrating thoughts. The grown-ups were lining up. Maybe they were going to get the food that was in the back of the church? Sliding from the pew, he grabbed his mama's skirt so he could keep up. The line moved very slowly. Patrick couldn't see through the sea of legs but there was a sound, it was faint but familiar. It made him wish the grown-ups would move faster. The volume grew as he and his mother neared the front of the church. Patrick noticed a pretty pearl white cloth with purple flowers sewn along the edges. The box that held Nana Bee! He was finally going to see her. Maybe she could help his mama understand that she was not with God but here.