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girls liked. His name was Jimmy or perhaps it was Jasper. He smiled at the memory and shook his head as he watched the two old women go at each other. She was close, Buck thought. At least the man’s name had started with a J.
    Buck’s smile grew almost maniacal as he also remembered that he saw that same Areal Hellraiser later that same week kissing Bea’s boyfriend, too. It happened at a baseball game, not a tennis match. And, Bea’s boyfriend’s name was also Jimmy or maybe it was Jasper too.
    Old Buck placed a hand inside one of his torn pants pockets, looking angelic as he let his mind recall other details from his youth, both real and imagined. Of course, his memory was just as faulty as Bea’s and Sasha’s. It was a good thing he’d kept his mouth shut because he’d only fuel the eternal flame.
    It was an instant replay. Bea and Sasha had fought off and on over the past twenty years, mostly over accusations that neither had witnessed but had been told by someone they couldn’t even remember. Sadly, there were other times when they just fought because they both existed in the same place and for no other reason.
    â€œI have an idea.” The Reverend Bling excitedly snapped a finger to get everyone’s attention. He’d finally decided that he needed to take charge, particularly since he saw that most of the other seniors led by Buck had taken the opportunity to sneak away. He didn’t blame them. He’d have left, too, but his desire to live another day and not be arrested outweighed a bingo pot.
    By the time the reverend finished snapping his fingers, the only ones left in the basement were the two old mothers, the two ushers, and himself.
    â€œObviously, it’s my fault that the numbers got mixed up when the table overturned. Therefore, my solution is to give a consolation prize that can be shared by the two of you.”
    â€œI don’t want a consolation prize. I want my thousand dollars,” Sasha barked. She was livid and was about to snatch a hat pin to stick him and make her point.
    â€œI don’t want any consolation prize either.” Bea became so mad with the reverend’s shameless ploy that she handed Sasha’s cane to her and then pointed toward the reverend. She shouted, “Go ahead, Sasha. Handle your business.”
    The reverend’s self-preservation went into overdrive. His eyes grew large like an owl’s as he scanned the room trying to come up with a plan. Then he saw a plan come together.
    Behind the bingo table was an old bookcase. The reverend saw something there that he took as a sign from God. Sticking out of one of the reference dream books was the plane reservation ticket for his upcoming trip to Las Vegas. He had received it about a month ago after turning in his frequent flyer miles and had placed it in the book for safekeeping.
    His pastoral anniversary was coming up. He’d planned to fake humbleness and take cash from the congregation, along with one of its female members.
    He wouldn’t tell the Pastor’s Aide Auxiliary that he’d already paid for his trip by cashing in his mileage. Instead, he’d pocket the church’s money to use in the casino playing the nickel slot machines. At the time he’d purchased the tickets he hadn’t known about the upcoming Mothers Board Conference.
    However, at that moment, he’d give his only good leg just to get out of that church’s basement without harm.
    Just as Sasha was about to lift the sharpened business end of her cane with the help of her temporary ally, Bea, the reverend spoke up again, quickly.
    â€œMothers, come. Let’s reason together,” he said with false confidence.
    â€œIsn’t that term, reason together , from the Bible?” Sister Judah quickly leaned over and asked Sister Israel.
    â€œI’m not sure. If it isn’t, it sure sounds like it could be.” Sister Israel made a mental note to