I CALLED LENA MCCOY from the custodians’ bungalow on the lower campus of Sojourner Truth junior high.
“Hello,” a man’s voice answered.
“Lena McCoy, please,” I said.
“Who is this?”
“Mr. Rawlins.”
“What do you want with my wife, Mr. Rawlins?”
“I had a meeting with Reverend Winters yesterday. I asked him some questions that he couldn’t answer, and he suggested I ask Lena.”
“Do you know what time it is?” Mr. McCoy asked.
“Yes sir, I do,” I said. “Eight o’clock in the morning, workin’ man’s time. Time to get up and out of the bed. Time to go out and earn that daily bread.”
“What questions do you have for my wife?”
“It has to do with church activities, Mr. McCoy. This isn’t any scam. I’m not tryin’ to put somethin’ over on you. I don’t want any money or anything. Just a little information about the church.”
“Why can’t you—”
Mr. McCoy cut off what he was saying and mumbled something to someone in the room with him. At one point he raised his voice, but I couldn’t make out the words. I could hear the phone jostling around, and then a woman came on the line.
“Yes? Who is this?” the woman asked.
“Lena McCoy?”
“Yes?”
“My name is Easy Rawlins. Reverend Winters—”
“Oh, oh yes, Mr. Rawlins. Deacon Latrell told me about you. I’d be happy to talk to you, but I’m late for work as it is. Could you meet me at the church later today?”
“Sure. What time?”
“How about four? That would be good for me. I have to go with the minister to an interfaith dinner at six.”
“Four’ll be fine.”
WHEN I ENTERED the church that afternoon, I ran into a small, elderly man wearing overalls and pushing a broom.
“Afternoon, brother,” the older custodian hailed.
“Afternoon,” I replied. “I’m supposed to be meetin’ a Lena McCoy.”
“You wanna go all the way to the pulpit and turn right. You’ll see a green door, it opens onto a stairwell. Take the stairs two flights up. Go in that do’ and you’ll see a woman.”
“Mrs. McCoy?”
“Naw. That’s Mrs. Daniels. She’ll show you to Lena.”
“Thank you,” I said.
“Nuthin’ to it.”
As I walked toward the pulpit, I could hear the swish of the janitor’s broom on the concrete floor. It was a comforting sound, reminding me of my job at Truth. It felt like a long-ago fond memory, even though I had just come from work.
I needed Bonnie even more than I let on.
“MR. RAWLINS?” Mrs. Daniels said, repeating my name. “I don’t have no Rawlins on the minister’s schedule today.”
“I’m here to speak to Mrs. McCoy,” I said.
The church receptionist was round and pleasant-looking, but she didn’t like me much. “Is this church business?” she asked.
“Yes, ma’am,” I said.
She stared at me a moment too long.
“Listen, lady. I have important business with your minister’s assistant. If I walk outta here, it will be you who has to answer for it.”
I’d lost another opportunity at making a friend. The receptionist waved her hand toward a door behind her.
I knocked, and woman’s voice said, “Come in.”
I entered, coming upon a medium-sized black woman who was sitting behind an oak desk in the middle of a large, sunny room.
“Mr. Rawlins?”
