CHAPTER SIX
Donnie had been home for over a month, and the summer was nearly gone. Mrs. Slocum was temporarily settled in the nursing home, and Donnie was working with Ralph. Life had begun to look brighter for Donnie, except that he still missed Sharon and Christy terribly. Shortly after his talk with his mother, Donnie had made a special effort to be reconciled with Sharon. But Sharon was adamant.
"I've told you, Donnie, we're through," she had declared emphatically. "I'll never be able to trust you again."
"But, Sharon, I miss you and Christy like crazy," he had pleaded. "I'm sorry for what I did. I had had too much to drink. I'll never, never be untrue to you again. I promise."
"Nothing can ever be the same," she said, her voice hard. "I'm not interested."
"It could be, if you'd give me a chance. I still love you, Sharon. I wish I could take you in my arms right now and kiss all your stubbornness away. Won't you try me one more time?"
Had he heard her catch her breath when he said that? Had his words got through to her?
Her voice had mellowed when she answered, "I wish I knew you meant it, Donnie, but I don't want to take a chance. Little Christy has adjusted, and I don't want to uproot her again. I've got my mind made up that you and I can never make a go. So please don't keep calling. My answer will be the same."
"Do you really mean what you're saying?" Donnie asked fearfully.
"I really do. My mind is definitely made up."
"Then goodbye, my dearest darling. I'll love you always. Cover my baby with kisses for me."
"That's it," he had declared with an aching heart as he hung up the phone. "That's my last call. I've done all I know to do."
That had been two weeks ago, and Donnie was still trying to forget as he drove to the nursing home for his regular Sunday afternoon visit. When he arrived, he found his mother up in a wheelchair and in a cheerful mood.
"Son, I think I'm beginning to see at least one reason God allowed my wreck," she told him excitedly.
"Really?'
"I have had some of the most wonderful opportunities to witness for my Lord," she went on, paying scant attention to the skeptical tone of his voice. "And the activity director here is allowing me to hold Bible studies every morning at nine o'clock. We're having good turnouts, and everyone is very attentive. I am thrilled beyond words. I hardly have time to think of my aching legs, I get so engrossed in God's Word as I prepare my lessons. Then when I have spare time, I go around to the rooms of the shut-ins and read the Bible to them and pray for them. Most everyone is receptive. I guess the Bible is about all the comfort that some have."
"How do you get around, Mom?" Donnie was curious to know.
"I'm learning to roll these wheels by hand and chauffeur myself. But sometimes my roommate rolls me about. She is such a sweet little thing. Her mind is not so bright as some of the others', but she's such a nice person and so willing to do anything she's asked. I would have a time without her. She gets me a drink of water or hands me my glasses, my Bible, or whatever I need."
"Where is she now?"
"I don't know. She leaves the room for long periods of time every so often. I like being alone sometimes, so I haven't asked about what she does, for fear she'll think I don't want her to go."
"Is that her?" Donnie asked in a low voice as the door opened.
Mrs. Slocum nodded. Smiling at the lady, she said, "Lilly, this is my son, Donnie. You have heard me talk about him. Donnie, this is my roommate, Lilly."
"Nice meeting you," Donnie acknowledged the introduction in a friendly tone.
"Hi!" she said, grinning at him. "You sure do have a good mamma."
"I can agree with that," he answered.
"I push her wherever she wants to go."
"That's nice of you." The friendliness had gone out of Donnie's voice.
"I get her water for her, too." It was quite evident that Lilly was proud of the chores she did for her roommate. She waited expectantly for proper praise.
Donnie obliged with, "She told me how good you are to her."
"She did?"
Lilly stood looking at Donnie, wide-eyed and smiling broadly. Donnie turned away, wishing she would leave the room again. He had come to visit his mom, not Lilly.
"Yep, yore mamma's sure a good woman. I hand her her Bible and she reads it to me sometimes. I can't read, so I like to hear her read from the Bible. She read to me about Jesus making that blind man see. We have a blind man here in the home. His name is Jess Nugent. I wish Jesus lived on earth now. Maybe He could make Jess see. I know he would be powerful happy if he could see again."
Thoroughly exasperated by this time, Donnie leaned over and whispered to his mother, "Can we go somewhere to visit, where we can have some privacy?"
Mrs. Slocum smiled at Lilly. "Lilly, we're going to move to the back porch awhile. You stay here and get a good nap while we're gone."
"I don't need a nap. I'll push you to the back porch." She took hold of the chair handles and smiled broadly at Donnie, as if to say, "See how well I help your mamma."
Donnie stared at her coldly. "I'll roll her myself. You stay here."
Mrs. Slocum patted Lilly's hand and spoke to her kindly. "I'll see you after a while, Lilly. Thanks for offering to assist me. Now you take a good nap. Okay?"
"How do you stand that woman gabbing all the time?" Donnie asked as he pushed his mother along. "She would drive me nuts."
"Lilly is really a sweet person when you get to know her Donnie."
"I hope I never get to know her," he stated flatly. Several times, on their way to the back porch, Donnie was stopped by patients exclaiming over Mrs. Slocum's Bible studies. He was convinced that her labors for her Master were very much appreciated.
When they reached the porch, Donnie took a letter from his shirt pocket and handed it to his mom.
"Here, I almost forgot to give you this. It's from Connie."
"You haven't opened it?"
"It's addressed to you."
"You know you're welcome to read all the mail I get from Connie," Mrs. Slocum assured him.
Eagerly, she tore off the top of the envelope and read aloud:
Dear Mom,
I've missed two weeks hearing from you. I trust all is well at home. I've had a peculiar feeling of late that something is wrong. Mom, you aren't keeping something from me, are you? Are you well? Is Donnie's family all right? If something is wrong, please let me know so I can help pray.
Mrs. Slocum brushed tears from her eyes. Donnie, too, had a peculiar sensation sweep over him. It was strange that Connie, so many miles away, could still sense their trouble. She could always seem to sense when he had problems. Perhaps it was because she was his twin. Mrs. Slocum had just written her the past week about the wreck. She had not wanted to upset her earlier. But somehow Connie had known things weren't right at home.
Mrs. Slocum continued reading,
We had an exciting visit yesterday. Our visitor was a converted witch doctor. He openly discussed with us about his witchcraft. He said he had lied and deceived the people who had come to him, but one day he came under the influence of the gospel and became sick of his lies and wicked life. He confessed his sins at an altar of prayer and peace came into his heart. He told us about a practice the people have of worshiping the bones of ancestors. When relatives die, they bury them and allow enough time for the flesh to decay, then they dig up the bones and put them in spirit houses. They then kill pigs and offer the spirit of pigs to the spirit of their loved ones. They fear the spirits will kill them if they don't keep up this practice. When they are converted, they tear down their spirit houses and bury the bones. Oh, praise the Lord! I trust God will help us to get bones buried all over New Guinea.
Pray, pray, pray, Mom. We are praying for a real sin-killing, bone-burying revival. God is moving. Larry preached a wonderful down-to-earth message yesterday. The Lord really helped him, and several came forward for prayer. They are piti
fully ignorant of Bible truths. But, thank God, the true light is penetrating the darkness. Hearts are hungry. Where once we saw hopelessness and despair, we now see hope springing up. Oh, for a real Holy Ghost revival. God can do in a moment of time what we can't do in a lifetime.
I love it here, Mom. I can't explain it, but it's home to me. Home away from home. It's God's call. Oh, how I struggled against this call, Mom, because I didn't want to leave you. But I'm so glad I said yes that night at the Missionary Convention, and surrendered my will to God's will.
I can still see that dear brother as. he presented the needs of New Guinea. He didn't touch the fringe of the needs here, though he poured out his heart under the anointing of God. The need so far exceeds what he presented. It can't be rightly presented. One must be here to realize the great need. Oh, for workers to New Guinea! Mom, have you thought of coming over for a year or so?"
"Hey, wait a minute," Donnie interrupted. "You're not going, Mom. Don't let Connie put that idea in your head. I need you as bad as Connie and those black people need you."
Mrs. Slocum chuckled. "Connie's only kidding, son. She knows I can't go."
But Connie wasn't kidding, as Mrs. Slocum was soon made to realize as she continued reading:
Mom, if you will seriously consider coming, God will help us pray in your fare. It will be several years before I can come home on furlough, and you could come over and visit and work for God here for several months or a year. Oh, I get so excited thinking about it. Donnie has a home of his own and you're all alone, so why not consider this venture? I'll be praying for God to lead you.
Bye for now. I have to write so small on these aerograms and still can't say much.
I love you, Mom, and am praying for you and Donnie and his family. If you hear from him, say hello for me.
Your missionary daughter,
Connie
"Mom," Donnie cried out, "forget what Connie suggested. You're not going to New Guinea."
"I've never even given it a thought, son. Connie's just lonely to see me. I'll just have to pray more for her, that God will comfort and help her."
Dismissing the idea, Mrs. Slocum folded the letter and tucked it in her pocket. "How's your job?" she asked.
"It's okay. I don't like it as well as I did my other job, and the pay is a lot less, but it's better than nothing."
"Have you sent Sharon any money lately?" Mrs. Slocum spoke with trepidation, knowing she was bringing up a forbidden subject.
"She hasn't asked for any," Donnie answered sharply.
"But it's your duty to support your wife and baby, whether she asks for it or not. What would we have done if your father had not supported us?"
"Her parents are well able to take care of them. She chose them over me, so let them support her."
"Have you talked to her lately, son?"
"Not since the time she read me off."
Mrs. Slocum cleared her throat, then began hesitantly, "Donnie ... I've been praying desperately for God to reunite your home."
Donnie stood up and looked into his mother's face. "Mom, you're just wasting your time praying for Sharon and me. She told me very emphatically that we're through."
"But prayer changes things, Donnie. Don't you still love her?"
Donnie wanted to say no. He wanted to say he hated her and never wanted to see her again. Instead, tears came into his eyes and he answered, "My heart aches day and night for Sharon and Christy, Mom. But I've done all I know to get her back, and she refuses. So it's settled. All I can do is try to push them out of my mind and forget they ever existed."
With tears streaming down her face, Mrs. Slocum caught Donnie's hand in hers and said, "I know you don't want me to say this, son, but if you'd only give your heart to God, I believe things would work out for you. So much prayer is going up for you ... Donnie, why don't you mind God?"
"Mom, I wish you'd quit bugging me about religion. It's fine for those who want it; but as for me, I happen to be satisfied the way I am. I'm sick to death of hearing about religion all the time. If it's not you, it's Ralph, or Connie's letters, or the preacher rapping on my door. I'm absolutely fed up. I don't know if I will ever get right, so please leave me alone." His face was flushed and his voice trembling as he finished. Mrs. Slocum sat silent.
"Do you want me to roll you back to your room?" he asked her. "I'm going. Never mind ... here comes your preacher. He can roll you back when he's through visiting. Good-bye. "
Before Mrs. Slocum could collect herself enough to answer, he was gone.
Down the hall, Brother Morgan extended his hand to shake hands with Donnie as they passed, but Donnie brushed by as if he hadn't seen him and walked briskly on. Kind voices greeted him as he passed patients in the hall, but he acted as if he were deaf and kept going. He saw Lilly and she began following him, scolding him because he hadn't brought back her roommate. Fearing she would follow him to his car if he didn't tell her something, he called back impatiently, "She's got company. They'll roll her back later."
Pushing the front door open with an angry shove, he went out, relieved to be away from all of them. Once in his car, he turned his radio dial until he found some rock-and-roll music, turned it up loud, and started down the highway.
"Where to now?" he asked himself. "Oh, I know. I'll just drive over to see Dad. It may be a couple hours' drive, but what else is there to do?"
It had been over a year since he'd seen his dad. The last time was at Connie's wedding. Mr. Slocum had given him and Sharon an invitation to come and visit him then. He seemed to be impressed with Sharon, and she, in return, liked him. But they had never got around to going. Donnie had called when Christy was born. Mr. Slocum was delighted about being a grandfather, and he had sent them a good-sized check to buy his first grandbaby "the best layette in the country."
Donnie knew his dad would never have let them be in want, had he known about him losing his job. But in those months after the wreck, when he had been making some new resolves, Donnie had purposed to stand on his own two feet and never sponge off his dad again.
As the miles sped by, Donnie had time to get himself under control, and he began to think of how awful he had acted at the rest home. I know Mom means well. She's such a dear and wouldn't hurt a flea, but I just wasn't in the mood for her preaching.
If he could have heard the fervent prayers that went up for him after he left, he would have known why his anger had subsided and why his heart was softened toward his mom.
Brother and Sister Morgan had approached Mrs. Slocum hesitantly after being ignored by her son. Looking smitten, and with tears falling unchecked, Mrs. Slocum had extended her hand and said, "Let's pray for Donnie right now, Brother Morgan. He's in Satan's net, but God is going to deliver my boy. I'm believing Him to do it. I believe He's going to pluck Donnie out of the net."
"Sister, there's a Bible verse similar to what you just said, in the book of Psalms. Here, let me see if I can find it. Maybe we can claim it as a promise for Donnie's salvation. "
He opened his Bible to the concordance in the back. "Yes, here it is. Psalm 25:15. 'Mine eyes are ever toward the Lord, for he shall pluck my feet out of the net.' The rest of this is fitting, too. Let me just read the remaining verses, sixteen through twenty-two."
When he had finished reading, he went on to say, "David was in a dreadful situation. His feet were in the net, fast and entangled. He could not free himself out of his difficulties, but he turned to the right source for help. Donnie is running from the only One who can free him from Satan's net. I'm sure it would be pleasing to God for us to band together and pray for God to pluck him out of the net. Let us pray now. Sister Slocum, you lead in prayer."
"Our wonderful and kind heavenly Father, our great High Priest, Thou who art touched with the feeling of our infirmities, we come to Thee right now in behalf of my prodigal son. Oh, Lord, I cannot reach him, but Thou dost have all power in heaven and in earth. Touch my boy's heart right now, w
herever he is. Dear God, pluck him out of the net which Satan has gotten him into. Save his home, Lord. At any cost, get to him and Sharon. Bring them back together for Thy name's sake. Oh, Lord, touch Connie and Larry right now. Give them a real Holy Ghost revival in New Guinea. Oh, God, be with all of us. Anoint us for service for Thee. In Thy name we pray. Amen."
But Donnie had no idea a prayer meeting was being held in his behalf. As he reached for a cigarette, his eyes lighted on the gas guage. I'd better stop at the next service station. I need another pack of cigarettes, too. I could surely use a nice cold beer.
Thinking thus, he took the next exit and pulled into a service station, choosing a self-serve pump. After pumping the gas, he went inside to pay for his purchase and buy some cigarettes. An elderly man was tending the cash register. He stared at Donnie with a peculiar look.
"Do I know you?" he asked.
"I've never seen you before," Donnie informed him. Then a sudden terrifying thought seized him. What if this is the husband of that woman I robbed?
He turned pale and his hands trembled as he paid for the gas. He decided he would get cigarettes elsewhere. He wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible.
"Are you sick?" the man asked with concern. "You look so pale and you: lips are sorta blue. Sit down over there in that chair, and I'll get you something to drink."
Donnie thought, He's trying to detain me so he can call the police. To the man he said, "No, I'm fine," and he hurriedly left the station.
Shaking violently and his mind so petrified with fear that he could not think rationally he pulled out onto the highway again, expecting any moment to hear sirens screaming and to see red lights flashing as the police started after him in hot pursuit. His guilty conscience kept him looking in the rear view mirror every few seconds. His speedometer climbed upward: forty-five, fifty-five, sixty-five, seventy-five .... Donnie was unaware of how fast he was going. His one thought was to get as far away as fast as he could from that man behind the cash register.
Glancing in the rear view mirror again a little later, he saw exactly what he had been expecting: a flashing red light. There was no mistaking it. Terrified, he stepped on the gas. It was then he noticed he was going eighty miles an hour. He let up on the gas pedal and leveled off at sixty-two. The siren screamed, and Donnie slowed down further and pulled off on the side of the road. In the few moments it took him to stop, he visualized himself behind bars, serving a long sentence. He saw his mom's stricken face when they told her that her son was a robber. He could hear Sharon saying, "I knew you were bad, but I didn't know you'd stoop to this." He saw little Christy growing up as a convict's daughter. He visualized Connie grieving herself half to death because of the awful stigma he had brought on his Christian family. And Dad! What would he think?
Donnie just sat there, too weak to get out of the car. He rolled down his window and stared at a policeman in disbelief. This couldn't be happening to him and felt like confessing everything in order to clear his guilty conscience. Maybe if I would explain what made me do it, the officer would be understanding. If they would only give me a chance, I would make restitution. I would pay the old lady even double if they would give me a little time. His heart felt like lead.
After what seemed like ages, the policeman spoke. "You were exceeding the speed limit a little, weren't you?"
"Y-yes, sir. I didn't realize how fast I was going. I let off on the gas as soon as I realized."
"Yes, I noticed you slowed down from eighty to sixty-two. I'm sure you are aware of what the speed limit is."
"Yes, sir."
"Let me see your driver's license."
With hands trembling so much that he could hardly manage his billfold, Donnie pulled out his driver's license and handed it to the policeman.
"Is this your current address?"
"No, sir. I'm presently living with my mother in Terryville. Route 1, Box 81 B."
The officer wrote out a ticket and handed it to Donnie.
"You're to appear at the Terryville courthouse September 15, eight days from now, at 9:00 a.m. You will pay the fine then, plus the court costs. They will return your driver's license when you pay your fine. In the meantime, this permit will serve as a driver's license."
Donnie stared at him blankly. Was that all? Was he going to let him go? Or was he taking just one thing at a time? Hadn't the old man notified him about the robbery? Donnie's face mirrored his anxiety.
The officer smiled. "Sorry I scared you half to death. This must be the first ticket you have ever gotten."
"The very first one," Donnie acknowledged, still wondering if the officer was going to arrest him and haul him off to jail.
The officer started to go, then he turned back with a caution. "Slow it down, Mr. Slocum, and don't forget your September fifteenth appointment." He turned again and got in his car and drove away.
Donnie sat there a long time before he turned the key in the ignition and slowly returned to the highway. He felt drained. I don't think I'll go to see Dad today, after all. What I need is to go home and take about a half dozen aspirin, and go to bed.
With this thought, he took the next exit and headed back toward Terryville, being very careful to keep his eyes on the speedometer.
It wasn't until the next day, when he felt calm and collected once more, that he thought, How silly of me! The station I robbed was too far away for there to have been any connection. What makes me go half crazy at times?
Plucked Out of the Net Page 6