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Blog of the Week

Borough of Churches #3

Updated: Jan 2

A "Brooklyn Zoo" Sketch Story


Sunday Service



Women wearing their "Sunday best", crowned with flamboyant hats engage in chit-chat as they wait for the B65. A mother drags reluctant children down the block to a storefront church. Stopped by a red light, a black Cadillac blares Gospel music as its driver belts out the lyrics, flawlessly hitting every key and note. Church-goers pack into a tiny brownstone cozied between a Chinese restaurant and hair salon. A disgruntled father missing his football game shoves his sons through massive doors into a breath-taking sanctuary of pastels and gold molding. Ushers direct them and other members down large isles to their seats. A heavy-set pianist makes his way to an old, wooden stool behind a 1969 Mahogany Model B Grand Piano. Gracefully, he tickles the keys as the praise and worship team step onto the altar. Quietly, they pray. In response, the congregation rises to their feet. Playful children silenced by a "single look" hurry to stand beside their fathers. Teenagers remain seated but are "pulled up" by mothers demanding they stand in the presence of Almighty God. The pianist's melody swells. Whispered prayers embolden to a boisterous cry. Congregants worship with lifted hands and tears. A slight-sized man stylized by a 70's afro steps forward, grabbing the mic. He begins to hum. A hush falls throughout the building, as a palatable peace fills the sanctuary. People speaking in unknown languages lay prostrate in the isles while others kneel at the foot of the altar. Feeling The Spirit, women wearing skirts and dresses are covered with green and white cloths by ushers.


Sunday Dinner



Off-white curtains etched with colorful embroidery roll and wave under a gentle breeze. Salsa music plays loudly on an Amazon Echo. Rosie enters the kitchen, tying a pink and red checkered apron around her waist; her house shoes scrapping against ceramic titles. Reynaldo tip-toes up behind her, grabbing Rosie at the hips. Familiar with the touch of her lover, she twirls around, embracing Reynaldo - wrapping her arms under his; pulling him close. The couple laugh and giggle, raising the children's curiosity. Careful not to blow their cover, the children sneak to the edge of the kitchen to eavesdrop, quietly laughing and joshing in view of their parents' love. Even the oldest, Peter, blushes.


Twilight paints the Hernandez's home with brilliant oranges, reds and purples. Youngest, Emily plays with blocks in front of bay windows, underneath the vivid mobile of a fading sunset, pretending to fly off beyond the stars on a Pegasus. Peter rounds the dinner table, laying out plates and napkins followed by his little brother, Timothy carrying the silverware; who carefully aligns the forks and knives atop the napkins. Finished, Peter double backs to place glassware aside the china. Reynaldo lifts his head from a novel, enthralled by his "little girl" at play. Rosie emerges from the kitchen, assisted by Peter carrying pernil, arroz con gandules, plantanos maduros, and a garden salad. Settled at the table, the Hernandez's take each other's hand for a prayer of thanksgiving. Reynaldo gently squeezes Rosie's hand, muttering "Love you babe." She smiles, turning red like an annatto seed, reciprocating Reynaldo's affection with air kisses. Antsy, Timothy raises his head from folded hands, "Mami, papi can we say grace... I'm really, really hungry."

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