by Faith
Why was Reverend McBride staring so hard at me during his sermon?
I immediately thought back on what I’d done that past week, considering anything that would be considered sinful behavior. Maybe this guy was the real deal, and he could sense that I’d somehow done something wrong.
I began shifting uneasily in my cushioned folding chair in the third row, his gaze steady and blazing with conviction. His actual sermon was pretty mellow, but the way he was locking his stare with mine, you would’ve thought he was preaching about hellfire.
Just as I was beginning to seriously consider bolting out the door while I had the chance, Reverend McBride stopped talking altogether.
I gazed up at him in horror. He stood there, almost seven feet tall, with his white robe contrasting with the deep black of his hair. His tea-colored eyes glared at me, as he remained planted where he was on the stage. Of course at this point, everyone gathered was staring at me with flaming curiosity, and an intense hush fell over the people in the audience.
Reverend McBride decided to break the silence then.
“Young lady, you remind me of a special kind of poodle I once saw at a dog show!” he exclaimed in an alarmingly matter-of-fact fashion.
I just stared at him with my mouth slightly open in astonishment.
“Especially with that bow in your hair,” he added, stating it with a firm confidence that seemed to reassure him of the notion.
And just like that, the observation was out of his system, and Reverend McBride went on with the sermon as usual, and never looked my way again.
As I slipped the bright pink bow out of my teased half-up-half-down hairdo, I began to reconsider getting perms so often. Maybe my straight hair wasn’t so bad after all.
