Mama's Boy by Reshonda Tate Billingsley Read Free Book Online

place of refuge. It had been where she sought—and received—comfort. But today, God’s Word did little to heal her hurt. And for the first time in her life, she felt her faith wavering.
    It had been eight days and God had not seen fit to bring her son home. Eight days and she had no idea where her only child was.
    Images of her son’s body beaten and buried in a shallow grave filled her mind. Just last year, another black Jasper resident, Alfred Wright, had come up missing. He was gone for eighteen days before they found his body, stripped down to his shorts and one sock, with his throat cleanly slit and one ear gone. His front teeth were broken and missing. The police had ruled it an “accidental drug overdose.” Everyone in Jasper knew better, but police had still closed the case. Nothing inside her would let Gloria believe that things would be any different with Jamal.
    Elton had told her to stop thinking the worst, but at eight days, what else was she supposed to think?
    The cops had been following them all week. There was even a marked unit outside the church today (she knew she’d hear about that later). Elton couldn’t stand to be embarrassed in his church, so this was going to add a whole other layer of stress to their already stressful marriage.
    Gloria had come to church today in search of solace, for comfort that her son was all right. But so far, her nerves had only gotten worse. Sitting in that sanctuary allowed her mind to wander into the worst places. She should’ve been paying attention, but she couldn’t keep the horrible thoughts from coming. She couldn’t stop thinking about Jamal and what would happen if the police found him first.
    The thoughts clouding her mind were exactly why Gloria had been doing anything she could to keep moving all week long. She’d washed every dish in the house, rearranged the pots in the cabinet, scrubbed the baseboards . . . she just had to keep moving. Because if she didn’t, she would die. If she didn’t keep moving, she’d be reminded that her son was out there somewhere, scared to death. At least, she hoped that he was still out there. She hoped that some robocop or vigilante hadn’t gotten to him first. They’d dragged James Byrd Jr. for no reason. Shot Trayvon Martin for looking suspicious. Gunned down Michael Brown, even though people said he had his hands up. Jamal Jones had given them reason to kill. There was no way he’d be safe.
    Gloria tried to refocus and stop her mind from traveling down that “what if” road. She watched her husband from the pulpit as he spouted off something about the faith of a mustard seed. Once again, he hadn’t even addressed the Jamal situation. He just pretended that the two strange white men in the back of the sanctuarywere visitors, not reporters. She knew who they were because they’d been nosing around before service and the gossip train had met her at the door this morning. Gloria had told Elton about them, but he’d just grumbled and walked off. Now he was in the pulpit doing what he did best—pretending all was well in the Jones household. It was a character flaw that Gloria had long ago given up trying to change.
    Elton had just wrapped up his sermon and summoned the organist to begin playing for the altar call when Gloria felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned to see one of the ushers hovering over her.
    â€œSister Gloria?”
    â€œYes, Lena,” Gloria replied, wondering why this woman would disturb her in the middle of service.
    â€œCan you step out in the vestibule?” Lena whispered.
    Really? Everyone at Mount Sinai Missionary Baptist Church knew Elton didn’t like people moving around during his altar call, which was evident by the irritated look he was giving her right now.
    â€œPlease, it’s Sister Naomi. She’s sick,” Lena said.
    Naomi Tucker was one of the church members who often