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it spoke up and took advantage of the momentary silence from Bea’s challenge.
    â€œY’all know she’s crazy. She’s probably having another Alzheimer’s episode, because it was me who yelled out bingo first,” Sasha cackled.
    Sasha was still dressed in her all-white linen gown from earlier. As she inched along, the dress billowed about her elfish brown frame. She used her walking cane to part the sea of other angry seniors as she limped up to the table.
    â€œWhat tha . . . ? In all the rush to play bingo, Bea didn’t know that Sasha was even there. She became so angry she started trembling.
    â€œThat woman wouldn’t know bingo from Scrapple,” Sasha hissed, forgetting to continue her charade of humility, and that scrapple consisted of meat parts and was not a game. Shooting an angry look back at Bea, she continued to inch up to the table. She used the tip of her cane to poke at the Reverend Bling’s chest. “That money belongs to me and if you don’t give it to me right now, I’ll tear you asunder.”
    â€œAin’t you a woman of God?” the Reverend Bling asked as he bravely tried to maintain a vertical position.
    He didn’t want to appear weak but it was hard to do when he used a kickstand for leg support. “The Almighty wouldn’t be pleased if you tore me asunder ,” he said in a mocking tone so that the others wouldn’t think he was afraid.
    He could’ve saved his energy. The others didn’t think he was afraid; they knew for certain that he was.
    â€œIf God didn’t want me to tear you asunder, He wouldn’t have put it in the Bible,” Sasha answered carefully. She never took her beady eyes off the reverend as she used her cane to drag a dust-covered Bible toward her from the end of the table. In her rush she’d left hers back at her table.
    Before Sasha went on to further prove her Bible knowledge, she glanced over at Bea to make sure the woman didn’t sneak up on her. Bea was still trying to collect her wits and didn’t pose an immediate threat. Sasha picked up the Bible and didn’t even open it, choosing instead to quote the passage while she held the book.
    â€œIt says in the book of Matthew, the twenty-fourth chapter, the fifty-first verse—”
    Sasha stopped suddenly and turned to the others to make sure that all eyes were on her before she continued. “ ‘. . . And shall cut him asunder , and appoint him his portion with the hypocrites.’ ” She stopped again and pointed her cane to the others scattered behind her and particularly at Bea. “That would be y’all. Y’all, the hypocrites.” Then she turned back to the reverend, glaring. “There shall be weeping and gnashing of the teeth.”
    Sasha laid her cane across the table and hung her head. Suddenly speaking softly and humbly, she added, “So saith my God.” She clutched her heart slowly and looked at the others as though they all didn’t share the same God.
    â€œWell, Mother Sasha, I guess you do know your Bible.” The reverend snickered, nervously. He quickly looked over his shoulder to see if any of the ushers were going to help him.
    They weren’t.
    â€œOf course I know my Bible.” Sasha nodded with confidence and then added her own interpretation. “As you can see, God has said that I can beat you into a ball of Silly Putty if you don’t give me my money.”
    Sasha would have said more but suddenly she felt a sharp pinch on her shoulder and cried out, “Ouch!”
    â€œIf you try and take my money, you’ll be the one looking like a ball of gray-haired Silly Putty.”
    The voice was strong, determined, and of course, familiar. When Sasha turned around, rubbing her bruised shoulder, she stood face-to-chest with Mother Bea.
    While her longtime foe had spouted customized Bible verses, Bea had snuck up behind Sasha and, with her own false