Church Ladies

by Mary Rose Henssler

Sunday morning, Mabel called to tell me we have a new pastor at the Presbyterian Church, and she said he’s quite a looker. I looked down at my frumpy gray dress and decided to change it before church. I was almost used to being alone now, and not on the prowl like Mabel, but first impressions count, and just in case, it couldn’t hurt to put my best face on, along with a better dress. I decided on the black dress with the red tulips. Not that it would make much difference with Mabel there. She’d been stealing my boyfriends since junior high. All but my Harry, Lord rest him. He only had eyes for me, as the old song goes.

The pastor had just launched his sermon on diversity and tolerance when, like an avenging angel, an alligator made its way through the open double doors and moved swiftly up the aisle, trailing a swampy odor.

A rustling sounded in the pews as people took notice. Men stood for a better look, while women and girls shifted as far away from the center aisle as they could. Mothers grabbed small boys by the back of the shirt to keep them from running toward it. The pastor had lost his audience.

“Whose alligator is this?” he demanded.

A few of the men laughed. “Must be God’s,” one of the men remarked. “He’s walkin’ right in here like it’s his house.” People started pouring out of the pews into the side aisles and out the door as the alligator passed them.

“Someone get that thing out of here!” the pastor yelled as the reptile continued his march to the altar.

Casually, I put my hands over my alligator bag, dyed burgundy, that my Harry gave me for Christmas ten years before he passed on. I didn’t want the alligator to see it. It might be a relative. Possibly an old lover. 

I was still trying not to be noticed when a tall, lanky man about my age, wearing a safari suit and a topee and carrying a harness, walked in behind the alligator.

“Sorry, folks.  No need for alarm. I’ll have her out of here in a jiffy.” To the organist, who now sat atop the instrument, he said, “Play something soothing. She’s fond of music and it usually slows her down.”

Sure enough, as soon as the music started, the alligator slumped down and put her long chin on the red carpet of the altar and closed her mouth and eyes.

“Name’s Jim, by the way,” the man said as he slipped the harness around the beast. “Her name’s Bella. Come see us tonight at the carnival downtown.” He smiled at us all, and when he scanned the congregation, his bright blue eyes lingered for a long moment on my face, and he nodded. Gently, Jim led Bella off the altar and down the aisle. Jim paused at the end of my pew and looked at me as though he wanted to say something. I blushed and smiled and tried not to watch his every movement as he guided Bella out the door.

The Pastor patted his face with a handkerchief, said a quick closing prayer, and dismissed what was left of the congregation.

Before anyone could move, Mabel jumped up and reminded everyone to join in fellowship in the church hall for doughnuts and coffee. Although I didn’t always stay for coffee, I thought the conversation today might be more interesting than usual, so I allowed Mabel to take my arm and pretend she was helping me. At sixty-eight, she was only a year younger than me, but it suited her to make believe I was a lot older, especially when there was an attractive man around.

In line in the hall, I took two doughnuts, a cup of tepid tea, and an extra napkin. Mabel let go of my arm and headed straight for the table where the pastor sat talking with two young women. Simpering a little, Mabel asked if there might be room for two more. Since all the tables were meant to seat eight, I didn’t know why she bothered to ask. I didn’t wait for an answer. I put my plate and my cup down on the table, pulled out a chair and sat. 

The conversation, of course, continued to be about the alligator. When one woman paused for breath and the other sighed, Mabel changed the subject.

“Never mind about that beast, tell us about you, pastor. Are you married?” Mabel leaned close and touched his arm. The pastor shifted in his chair, looking down at his coffee cup. “No,” he answered. “I was married, but my dear wife passed on three years ago.”

“I’m so sorry,” I began, and Mabel ran right over me, as usual.

“Oh, that won’t do,” she cooed. “You’ll need a wife. There are so many things that the pastor’s wife does. There’s the sewing circle to make baby clothes for new mothers; the knitting club makes hats and scarves for the homeless. Don’t forget the group that takes meals to the sick. I could go on and on.”

“You already have,” I said under my breath, and Mabel shot me a look. I stopped listening then and turned my thoughts to Jim and Bella. Jim hadn’t seemed to notice Mabel at all. And then she invited the pastor to her house for Sunday dinner.

He answered, “I’m sorry. I can’t. I don’t dine alone with attractive women. I’ve learned it creates gossip among the congregation.”

Mabel turned toward me and offered, “My friend Gladys will join us, won’t you?” She nodded at me and raised her eyebrows.

“No,” I said. “Not tonight. I have plans.” 

Mabel gasped. “What plans? You never have plans.”

I didn’t answer. The carnival wouldn’t be in town long, and I planned to stop by tonight. Jim’s eyes were kind, like my Harry’s. And today he only had eyes for me.