Clayton Sullivan

Why Beulah Shot Her Pistol Inside the Baptist Church


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buck teeth. Like I’ve said, all the Raineys look like horses. But I was gambling that livin’ with a horse would be better in the long run than livin’ with Mama and Daddy who could be so mean to me and Earline.

      As soon as Ralph stepped out of the bathroom he said, “Beulah, I want us to sanctify our marriage bed.”

      I didn’t have no idea what he meant. And so I said, “What do you mean by that?”

      “Before you and me go to bed for the first time I think we ought to pray.” That’s what Ralph said. I didn’t know you was supposed to pray before you went to bed together for the first time. I didn’t know what to pray about and so I said to Ralph, “That’s fine with me but you do the prayin’.”

      He said, “Sure. I’ll do the prayin’.”

      Ralph got down on his knees and I don’t remember word for word what he prayed but it went something like this: “Oh dear God, me and Beulah is about to have sex together for the first time. I know St. Paul says in the Bible that it’s a good thing for a man not to touch a woman. But St. Paul also says in the Good Book that it’s better to marry than to burn. And oh dear God, ever since Ruth Ann died I’ve been burning for somebody to love. I want to thank you for little Beulah here who has come into my life to take Ruth Ann’s place. Help me to be a good husband to sweet little Beulah and help her to be a good wife to me like Ruth Ann was. I pray this prayer in the name of Jesus who died on the cross so we could be saved through his blood. Oh thank you Jesus. Amen.”

      Them is almost the exact words Ralph prayed so he could sanctify our marriage bed in the Twinkling Star Motel. I didn’t like it one bit that he called me “sweet little Beulah.” Everybody said I looked grown for my age. I remember Aunt Carrie saying two days before the wedding, “Beulah, if I didn’t know better I’d say you was at least twenty-five years old.” You take my boobs. If you could have seen my boobs when I was sixteen you’d have understood what Aunt Carrie meant. I may have been a primitive Baptist from New Jerusalem who didn’t use makeup, but my boobs wasn’t second class to nobody. And I didn’t like Ralph talking about Ruth Ann in his prayer. I particularly didn’t like him saying I was gonna take her place. But since it was our first night together I kept my mouth shut. At times it’s best to keep your feelings to yourself. Particularly if them feelings is raw.

      So to bed we went. I thought we’d both get naked. But we didn’t. Ralph kept his red pajamas on. I didn’t take off my pajama top. But I did take off my pajama bottoms. I did that because Ralph said, “Take off your pajama bottoms. That way I won’t have no trouble gettin’ to it.” That’s the exact word he used. “It.” I didn’t appreciate him callin’ my cherry an “it.” But that’s sure the word he used. An “it.” After I took off my pajama bottoms we done some kissin’ which I didn’t like all that much. The reason I didn’t like him kissing me all that much was because Ralph’s kisses tasted like a Swisher Sweet cigar. I found myself wishin’ he’d brushed his teeth and used some Listerine mouthwash before sanctifying our marriage bed. The next thing Ralph done was to rub my boobs a little. The next thing he done surprised me. He put some saliva on his fingers and wet my cherry. Since I knew the way his breath smelled it made me wonder if my cherry was smellin’ like a Swisher Sweet cigar. After he’d wet my cherry he put a rubber on his dick and stuck it up my cherry. He then started pumping away. It must have felt good to Ralph because the moment he started pumping he started moaning. He didn’t say nothing to me. He just pumped and moaned and pumped and moaned. As soon as he jacked off he pulled his dick out and turned over and went to sleep. He hadn’t been asleep two minutes before he started snoring. I lay there on the bed and listened to Ralph snore. I done that after I’d put back on my pajama bottoms. I bet it took me at least an hour to go to sleep. So much was goin’ through my mind. When a lot is goin’ through your mind it ain’t easy to go to sleep.

      I bet us havin’ sex for the first time in the Twinkling Star Motel in Biloxi didn’t take more than two minutes. Three minutes at the most. It may have felt good to Ralph but it didn’t feel good to me. The reason I know it felt good to Ralph is because of the way he grunted and moaned. But for me it hurt while we was doin’ it. The way Ralph had sex that first night we was together was the way he done it all six years I was married to him. On average he’s wanted it three times a week. Usually on Monday night and on Wednesday night and on either Friday or Saturday night. And every time it was the same. Put on a rubber, stick it in, and pump away. Then turn over and go to sleep and start snoring like an Illinois Central freight train on the way to Chicago. The only time Ralph let up on having sex was when I had my periods. During my periods I didn’t have to have no sex with Ralph. I’d pretend my periods was longer than they really was. I’d keep on wearing a Kotex or a Tampax several days after my period had stopped. Sometimes Ralph would say, “Beulah, your periods sure do last a long time.” And I’d say, “I know they do but there’s nothing I can do about it. It’s just the way I’m made.” Some women love to go to bed with a man. Maybe sex is good if you’re havin’ it with a man who is tender and kind and sweet talks you and knows how to work you up and get you in the mood. But Ralph never got me worked up. Every time after we’d done it I’d turn over and think about how it hurt. It got to the point where me havin’ sex with Ralph wasn’t nothing more than meat rubbing against meat. From time to time I’d wonder if it’d feel better if maybe I was doin’ it with somebody else besides Ralph. But I knew that doin’ it with somebody besides Ralph would be wrong. That would be committing adultery and goin’ against Mount Sinai. The ten commandments came at Mount Sinai and one of those ten commandments says “you shall not commit adultery.” At least once a month Brother Ledbetter preaches a sermon in which he shells down hard against committing adultery. He says over and over that committing adultery would be sinning against Moses and Mount Sinai. Brother Ledbetter shells down as hard on committing adultery as he does on women wearing lipstick and having their hair cut short. So in his sermons he’ll say time and time again we’ve got to bow down before Mount Sinai and hold fast to Jesus. Sometimes while preaching a sermon Brother Ledbetter will start chanting. He says he starts chanting when the Spirit comes down upon him. You can always tell when the Spirit has come down on Brother Ledbetter. He gets a fixed stare in his eyes. He’ll lift both of his arms real high over his head and he’ll chant over and over “bow down before Mount Sinai and hold fast to Jesus. Bow down before Mount Sinai and hold fast to Jesus.” While he’s saying this he’ll shuffle around the pulpit. And at times the Spirit will come down on everybody in the congregation at the New Jerusalem Baptist Church. Everybody will stand up and join in with Brother Ledbetter. Everybody will lift their arms real high and chant over and over “bow down before Mount Sinai and hold fast to Jesus.” And sometimes when Brother Ledbetter is chanting and shuffling his feet the Spirit will come down upon Miss Priscilla King. Miss Priscilla is an old maid who is our church’s piano player. She’ll jump up and go to the piano and start playing music to go along with Brother Ledbetter’s chanting and the congregation’s chanting. On the church piano she’ll play songs like “We’re Marching to Zion” and “Since Jesus Came Into My Heart.” You’ve missed a lot if you’ve never heard Brother Ledbetter and the congregation of the New Jerusalem Baptist Church chanting “bow down before Mount Sinai and hold fast to Jesus” while Miss Priscilla plays “We’re Marching to Zion.” It will make goosepimples come over you from head to toe. Or at least it used to make goosepimples come all over me.

      Ralph and me slept together Saturday night and on Sunday morning we woke up a little before seven. Ralph rolled out of bed and took a leak in the john. After he’d finished I went to the john too.

      Ralph stuck his hand under his red pajamas and rubbed his stomach and said, “I’m hungry as a horse. I’m always hungry in the morning. Where do you want to eat breakfast?”

      I thought it was real nice of Ralph to ask me where I wanted to eat breakfast. My daddy sure never would have done that. The evening before when we was driving to the Western Sizzler I’d seen an International House of Pancakes restaurant. I’d always wanted to eat breakfast at one of them restaurants with the tall blue roof. And so I said, “I think