Bro. Wiley’s body like they were the National Guard. The reverend never stopped chewing what had to be his fifth piece of chicken. Wait till Ma see him eating in her living room. “Folks, it’s time for us to pay our last respects to Mr. Bro. Wiley before the storm comes,” Reverend Hornbuckle said, standing up. We all gathered around Mr. Bro. Wiley’s casket and held hands. Ma rolled her eyes at the reverend when he put his plate in the chair Mr. Gordon brought over. “Let us pray,” the reverend said. We lowered our heads. “Dear Lord, we need you every hour,” Reverend Hornbuckle prayed. Suddenly, a clap of thunder struck with a loud boom. So loud that it hurt my ears. The womenfolk jumped with fear. “Lord, we need you to come by here and bless this sittin’ up. Bless the people who have gathered here to honor and praise Mr. Bro. Wiley.” Pole held my hand tight as the rain began to fall hard and the preacher prayed on.
