Page 12 of June: When Gangstas Collide

The contractors finally left, leaving me time to reflect on the blessing that God had given. I had been through so much, and I was finally stepping into my purpose. I couldn’t lie, God had really blessed an undeserving nigga like myself. As I sat and reflected on things, the sounds of the piano playing led me into the sanctuary. Followed by the sweet melody of the piano was the voice of a soulful angel.

“I need you now.”

She crooned.

I watched as Sage’s hands skillfully played the piano while her words from Smokie Norful blessed my church. The passion behind her words and voice moved me deeply. Her perfect ad-libs and raspy voice pulled at me. Everything that belted from her is how I once felt. It was begging God to help. You wanted his help so bad, just so that you wouldn’t have to choose between where you knew you needed to be and what you wanted to do. After meeting her mother, I knew exactly what she was going through. I moved closer as she dived deeper into the words. I placed prayer hands to my lips as I felt every word in my spirit.

Sage had gone from sweetly singing to crying. Her fingers pounded at the keys, not missing a beat. My God, she’s hurting. When I approached the piano, she tilted her head back and allowed God to use her.

“Not another second, not another minute.”

“My God,”

I said as I shook my head.

I wasn’t in the moment of interrupting her, rather allowing her to vent in the spirit.

“Let him use you,”

I whispered.

She slowly brought her head up as her fingers gently glided over the keys to finish the song. When she was done, she glanced at me and gave a partial laugh that was filled with tears.

“I’m sorry. That was so embarrassing, but every time I sing that song, it gets me like that.”

I walked around to stand in front of the piano.

“No need to apologize. Your voice is beautiful.”

She wiped her tears.

“Thank you. You know, being a Preacher’s kid, you have to know how to do it all: drums, piano, usher, sing, and know the word. My momma didn’t play about that bible.”

I nodded.

“I’m familiar with it all. The only thing God didn’t bless me with was the voice, but I understand. My father,”

I paused.

“My father is much like your mother. My father is a pastor back in California. Look, Sage, you don’t have to tell me all of the problems you have with your mother because I understand. Know that God hears you. I hear you.”

A smile eased on her face. Sage was beautiful not only in a physical sense but also spiritually. I could see the struggle in her; I saw myself in her. Suddenly, I found myself smiling brightly, then cleared my throat.

“I’m Prentice, Pastor ‘holy hood’ Prentice Kingston.”

She laughed loudly.

“Nice to meet you,”

she paused as she glanced down, then raised her deep, dark eyes to me.

“Prentice, I’m Sage. Sage the baddest hairstylist in Lake Hill Black.”

“I see what you did there, and I see that hair too. Trust me,”

I paused.

“I see you.”

We stared at each other with no words. It was a moment that I wasn’t expecting. It was sad that Navanna and I were no more, and I thought I would go through some heartbreak. I thought all the feelings that consumed me with Navanna were different, but this. God knew exactly what he was doing.

“Are you hungry? Can a holy hood pastor take you to lunch?”

She stood from the piano, coming closer to me. Her perfume wafted across my nose.

“Yes, yes, he can,”

she said as she walked past me, leading the way.

“I see what you're doing, Lord. I see,”

I whispered.

I didn’t understand the purpose of me coming to Toussaint other than being there for Chevy, but now my eyes were open to what God had planned.