With Nana living in the guest room, a heavy handed clamp fell. Lock-step grated on Samuel, creating a bubble of suppressed creativity. If something does not free me from this hell hole, I cannot be held responsible. Samuel steamed.
Nana’s long-time friend Pastor Beech of the First Baptist Church had recently called, leaving a flyer that boasted of the innovative and structured childcare available.
On a fateful Sunday with Samuel clutched between them, The Mommy and Nana dragged him to the childcare room, a delightful sunny room with a large painted mural of Jesus and little children.
Samuel smiled. So this is Jesus…let the children come unto Me…
Nana perceived a mental warning bell. She ignored it, leaving Samuel with four smiling women and one sullen teenage Goth girl.
Samuel scoped out the room. Window—no problem. Paint—only tempera, but usable. Jesus—His face within reach. Goth girl’s purse—open with make-up. Lipstick—black.
A boy and his art media. Oh, God is good, all the time. This is gonna be epic…
Church service had moved beyond the songs and offering collection. The Mommy and Daddy were smiling. But, Nana felt hackles rise. ‘Samuel. Oh no, not here.’
When the Head Usher scurried to Nana, she rose without a word. Seeing a look of horror and a black streak down his left cheek, Nana sighed. ‘He found someone’s lipstick. Damn.’
She ran to the child care room, where the toddlers were huddled behind Mrs. Beech.
The other women chased the other screaming three year terrors; they had streaked the walls with rainbows of Crayola markers. The Noah’s Ark poster was a sodden mess of yellow and red paint, while the window glass had splats of green and black.
Samuel was just putting the finishing touches on Jesus’ face with the lipstick. A uni-brow and a tattoo, perfect! Now, just some heavier body hair…
Nana scooped him under one arm and stalked from the room.
In the seething silent drive home, Samuel hummed, Yes, Jesus loves me! Yes, Jesus loves me… “We go again, Nana?” He asked.
|Carl Heinrich Bloch, Luke 18: 16-17|