Two hours later, a little less than halfway through service, Sam was startled awake by a slap to the back of the head. He shot up in his seat and quickly turned around, rubbing his sore scalp.  

Three pairs of judging eyes stared him down.  

“Boy, you wait until you get home to sleep, you hear me?” The eldest Henderson sister slapped his arm with her fan.  

“Ow!”  

“And keep that voice down! Service is going on.”  

“I heard that folk that fall asleep when hearing the word of God are mixed up in sin. That’s what makes them fall asleep. The devil in them.” The middle sister nodded, looking to the youngest for confirmation.  

“That’s only for communion, Sister Henderson. But if his sin isn’t the offense, that snoring certainly is.” The youngest Henderson pouted her lips at Sam, glaring down at him with her nose in the air. “Certainly not husband or father material. No, sir. Wouldn’t pass in my day.”  

Her elder sisters hummed and nodded in agreement, aggressively fanning themselves as their eyes scanned Sam. Sam moved quickly to straighten his clothes and hair, blushing furiously before he could open his mouth to apologize.  

“I’m so sorry, I meant no disrespect. You see, I didn’t get much sleep last night. Mercedes and I were—”  

“Boy, no one wants to hear about your illicit sexual exploits in the house of God!” The youngest sister chastised, slapping his other uninjured arm.  

“OW! What is with the slapping?!” Sam cried out, catching the attention of several pews ahead of him. “I wasn’t talking about—that. I meant that we had a fight and—”

A violent rumbling from his back pocket interrupted him. Sam frantically stood and pat his bottom, hoping to silence it before it rang. The pastor had just begun the fiery pinnacle of his sermon.  

“And then! Just when he had resolved to give up, the angel of the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream. And in that dream, saints of God, that angel said “Joseph! Son of David! Do not be afraid—"

“I beat that bitch with a bat, I beat that bitch with a bat, I beat that bitch with a bat…”  

The entire congregation turned to look at Sam, just as he managed to retrieve his phone. He answered the call with a crimson blush, gesturing toward the church doors.  

“So sorry. Sorry about this. My friends, they…they like to play tricks and change my ringtone sometimes.” He nearly tripped over his own feet, bracing his fall on an older gentleman’s arm instead of the church pew. “Oh, sorry! I….” The man gave an annoyed scowl, yanking his hand away. “My bad. What is that, an Armani? That’s…that’s a quality suit material you’ve got there, sir.”  

Sam finally felt the double doors behind him. He gave a relieved sigh and an awkward salute to the pastor. “Again, I’m leaving now! Sorry! I don’t hit bitches with bats! Or…. or anything else!” He shouted, pushing the doors closed behind him. A moment passed, just as the pastor opened his mouth again, before Sam popped back in. “Oh, and I don’t call women bitches. And I’m sorry for saying bitches in church.” He thought a moment, then added, blushing, “And I’m sorry for repeating it twice just now. Okay, I’ll just…..” He gestured his way out with his thumb, closing the door more carefully to ensure it didn’t slam closed.