The Jacket
The Jacket by Ruth Everson Gladys Nzimande had never stolen anything in her life. Her bunion distorted feet, aching in the smart shoes passed on to her by Mrs Taylor, began a slow shuffle dance. She raised her hands in response to Pastor Gregory’s call. Two thousand voices began to Babel around Gladys. They had been singing for an hour already and now the energy in the huge auditorium was electric with anticipation. Gladys felt a twinge of guilt. She wanted to settle down in one of the white plastic chairs with the sunflowers on the back and pray quietly to the Jesus that she knew. She wanted the familiar comfort of her white and blue church outfit. She wanted the warmth of the friends gathered in her Soweto church. But her Jesus had not helped her. This church, Joanna had told her, was a place where miracles happened every week. Gladys needed a miracle. Not for herself but for her granddaughter, Ayanda. So this Sunday she had risen quietly at 5:30 and put on her best clot