Kingstown Burning by Rachelle J. Gray

Author:Rachelle J. Gray [Gray, Rachelle J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Rachelle J. Gray

12

Haile Selassie Is the Chapel

It was Quartus who noticed the cut that ripped through the muscle at the back of Judah’s upper right arm. Judah passed out so hard during the reasoning that Gideon ordered two of the brethren to lift him to the guest quarters.

Unhooking his arms from around their necks in the process of laying him down upon the bed, Quartus touched the wound by accident. Pulling up Judah’s sleeve, Quartus met face on with a nasty gash that would require stitches and care.

Judah slept for two days straight. The morning of the third day, he rose to the sound of chanting in the distance. He was vaguely familiar with Rasta speak, but this language was different—new to his ears.

Judah tried to get out of bed, but every muscle in his body was stiff and sore. He pressed down onto the mattress to propel his body upward, only to be confronted with a sharp pain that shot down his arm, flooring him.

Using his left hand to investigate the tender region from which the pain originated, Judah discovered four inches of bandaged gauze, which he later found out was covering seven stitches.

Three other cots occupied the dormitory where he stayed. Judah walked past the beds, neatly made up with a soldier-like precision, and headed outside in pursuit of a toilet. There was not one in sight.

After emptying his full bladder by a hedge, Judah continued to follow the reverend sounding chants. He headed down the concrete slab stairs that led from the residences and ventured across the compound, where he found himself at the foot of the structure the men in black tams had saluted days earlier.

In the daylight, Judah beheld the fullness of the simple wooden structure, which was painted a cheery yellow. The windows were closed, as were the doors, but voices inside still managed to permeate the walls. In chorus, the occupants chanted the unusual refrains supported by what sounded like the continuous tinkering of tiny bells, a concoction that left him fully intrigued.

Judah, like a man possessed, approached the staircase. On his way up, he stumbled over a deposit of shoes piled outside the entrance. He had never felt anything like this pull that made him feel compelled to be present. But, for what, he did not know.

Judah waited at the doors with anticipation. Moments later, they finally reopened, as did the windows. A cloud of frankincense smoke escaping into the open air washed over him. He felt transported. Bravely, Judah proceeded to step inside of the structure.

It was a church, fashioned like other churches he had seen before but punctuated with notable differences. The brethren at the entrance, wearing an Ites gold and green sash, halted Judah before he could go in any further.

“Greetings, breddah,” he declared cheerfully. “You may enter once you have removed your shoes.”

Without hesitation, Judah flipped his footwear to the side. But the brethren with the sash had more for Judah to do.

“Walk up the aisle to the altar and do this when you reach the top,” he demonstrated.

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