For a while my parents had a red rotary phone. They had it because of the chaos that was going on politically and spiritually. They had it so that my Dad would be able to distinguish what type of phone call was waking him up. They had it because over a couple years citizens had to play a more vital role in defending the United States of America.
One night it rang and the person calling asked for Mrs. Lane. Sherry shook her head, noooo. "You won't take the call?" Mom shook head again and said, "Absolutely not." She left the room. The phone rang again and again person calling asked for her. It sounded like a child. My Dad motioned for me to take the call but be Mom. I can't BE Mom Dad that's crazy. I need you to do it. That is not normal! He shoved the phone at me. Make us proud. I really hate you right now.
"Hello this is Mrs. Lane
Listen.
Dogs barking, screaming, a dog barking, screaming, phone falling on floor
"Keep holding the phone and talk to whoever gets on there next!!!!!" My parents were snatching up clothing in the dark putting things on over their pajamas.
"We have to get to the church
"Will you come back?
At the church was a special visitor. Advertised as better than a ghostbuster. What's that? We'd wondered.
By the time our parents got to the church there were people walking from everywhere with lanterns and flashlights and gasoline torches. Some of the altar boys ran up and hug-surrounded Sherry. "Go ahead," my mother told my father. He gave her the car keys. As soon as he stepped into the church the boys all tried to chatter their stories, their versions of the story, at the same time. Mama Sherry said, "One at a time." And she blessed each child with ashes and holy water and listened to every story. She was putting the lid on the holy water when people came out of the church and asked, "Why are you stopping?"
"There are no more children."
No comments:
Post a Comment