CHAPTER SEVEN
The ringing alarm awoke Donnie. He shut it off and quickly jumped out of bed. It was Saturday, and he had the weekend off. He had made up his mind he was going to see his baby. Sharon couldn't deprive him of that right. If she didn't want to see him, that was her privilege, but he was determined he would see Christy. He had thought about her almost constantly for a week, and he was always dreaming about her at night. It had been over two months since he had seen her, and he didn't expect to have another chance to get away any time soon. His mom would be coming home before long and would be dependent upon him.
Forty-five minutes after the alarm went off, he was on his way. Allowing three hours to make the 150-mile trip, he figured he should be there by 10:00 a.m.
He whistled and hummed with the songs on the radio as he drove along. His thoughts raced ahead. Perhaps, Sharon would be glad to see him. Maybe they could get their problems straightened out. He could not believe Sharon did not love him anymore. She had always seemed crazy about him, and he just could not believe that love had died so quickly. Perhaps she and Christy would come back with him. They could stay at his mom's until she got completely well, then they would get them a little house or apartment somewhere. He could almost feel Christy's silky hair against his cheek as he envisioned her cuddled up to him. He wondered if she would still know him, and if she would be glad to see him. He wondered if she was walking yet and how many words she had learned, and if she had any new teeth. His mind was completely absorbed with thoughts of his baby and his wife. He smiled to himself. His mom had been praying that they would get back together. Perhaps, today, God would answer her prayers.
The beautiful hues of autumn were everywhere. All shades, of orange, yellow, red, and brown blended in perfect harmony. Beyond, the vast expanse of deep blue sky, dotted with fleecy, white clouds, served as a magnificent backdrop. The tranquil morning with its lovely scenery, along with the anticipation of seeing Christy--and maybe Sharon--had a soothing effect on Donnie. His hopes were high. Surely a new day was about to dawn for him. With a serenity he had not felt for weeks, he approached Sharon's parents' home.
But as he turned into the narrow road that led up a hill and around a curve and on to their house, his heart began to beat wildly. A multitude of thoughts plagued him. What was ahead for him? Maybe he should have called first. Perhaps her parents would be hostile toward him-no telling what Sharon might have told them. Suppose her dad tried to run him off, maybe even hit him. What should he do? Would it be right to sock an older man, especially his father-in-law?
He stopped his car and got out. There was no sign of life anywhere. He had imagined Sharon and Christy sitting in the lawn chair in the yard and Sharon inviting him to join them. But his imaginations, thus far, had been vain.
Breathing heavily, he walked up the sidewalk and knocked on the door. He heard footsteps, then the knob turning on the inside. He held his breath .... Mrs. Miller, Sharon's mother, opened the door and peered cautiously outside. Her mouth gaped open in surprise.
"Good morning, Mrs. Miller. I know this is a surprise to you. I guess I should have called. I've been wanting to see my baby." His words tumbled over one another in his haste to let her know why he had come, before she could shut the door in his face.
When she didn't say anything, he asked, "May I come in and see Christy?"
Mrs. Miller opened the door wider. "Come on in," she invited. "But I'm sorry to have to tell you that Sharon and Christy aren't here. You really should have called before making such a long trip."
"May I ask where they are?"
"Sandy is here for a visit, and the two girls have gone out for the day. I think they were going to do some shopping and then just ride around sight-seeing for a while. You know how sisters are when they get together."
"Do you have any idea what time they'll be back?" Donnie asked anxiously.
"No, not really. I'm quite sure they'll be gone most of the day though, because they told me not to fix lunch for them."
Donnie's shoulders drooped and a sad look appeared on his countenance as he wondered what he should do now. Mrs. Miller stood quietly observing his reaction. Suddenly, her stony expression changed to a look of sympathy.
"Sit down, son, ah-uh-Donnie," she offered graciously. "I'll fix you a cup of coffee."
"Thanks, Mrs. Miller. Where is your husband?"
"He's working. He gets off at five."
Donnie slumped in the nearest chair while Mrs. Miller went out to the kitchen. He was so disappointed that, had he given vent to his feelings, he would have cried like a baby. Nothing ever worked out for him. Oh, why hadn't he called first? What was the next course to take? He felt he just couldn't go back without seeing Christy. But he couldn't sit around all day with Mrs. Miller. So what was he to do?
"What do you use in your coffee, Donnie?" Mrs. Miller called.
"Nothing. 1 like it black-and bitter."
Mrs. Miller was soon back with the coffee. As Donnie drank it, he asked, "How is Christy? Does she walk yet?"
"She's been walking for about a month. The little doll is into everything. She really keeps us hopping." Mrs. Miller's face glowed as she talked. Donnie could tell that Christy was well-loved by her grandmother.
"Can she talk?" he asked.
"She can say a few words: Maw-maw, Paw-paw, bye-bye ... Mommy."
When she did not mention that Christy ever said "Dada," a dagger seemed to pierce Donnie's heart. He was getting too close to tears for comfort. Finishing his coffee, he rose to his feet and with his voice choked with emotion, said, "I guess I'll go now. 1 think I'll drive around town awhile. Maybe go to the Mall. Maybe I'11 run into them, but if I miss them, tell them I came." No longer able to check his tears, he added, "Take care of my baby for me, and tell her 1 love her with all of my heart."
With ashen face, Mrs. Miller promised, "I will."
His steps lagging, Donnie left the house to which he had come with such high hopes. He started the car and drove away slowly, watching in the rear view mirror, as if half expecting Sharon to come running after him. When the house disappeared behind him, he sighed deeply and murmured, "What now?" Taking a cigarette out of his pocket, he lit it with an unsteady hand and smoked until there was only a short stub left.
Twenty minutes later he parked at the Mall and went inside. He trudged from one store to another, eagerly scanning every face. At each sound of a childish voice or crying baby, his head would turn instantly in that direction. For an hour and a half, Donnie walked and searched. Finally, he gave up in despair. Maybe he'd call Mrs. Miller to see if they had shown up yet, he decided. But first he would get a hamburger. He had not eaten all day.
He drove to the nearest fast-food restaurant and went in to put in his order. It was then he saw them. His darling Christy was sitting in a highchair by a booth. He recognized her immediately. Forgetting his order, he started toward her with fast-beating heart, but he stopped short. There in the booth, with her back toward him, was Sharon, and a man! Donnie clutched at his heart in unbelief. He felt as if he would faint. What was he to do now? His first thought was to snatch little Christy and flee, but he knew that would never do. For a full minute he stood as though transfixed, trying to regain his composure. Then breathing heavily, he walked toward the booth. Sharon did not see him until he spoke.
"Hello, Sharon," he said, trying to remain calm, though he was boiling inside.
Her hand flew to her mouth as she gasped, "Donnie--What are you doing here?"
"I came to see my baby." He reached over to take Christy out of the highchair.
Sharon's companion slid out of the booth and stood up. "Who is this jerk?" he asked.
Donnie let go of Christy and turned to face his rival.
This jerk is your girl friend's husband." Donnie's voice was charged with emotion.
"Sez who?"
"I say so, " Donnie emphasized, seizing the front of the man's shirt with his left hand and hitting him in th
e mouth with his right fist.
With blood spurting, the stranger regained his footing and took a swing at Donnie. Sharon screamed. Her face had turned deathly pale. Donnie was hit in the jaw, but another hard punch from him knocked his antagonist over a table. The salt, pepper, and sugar shakers slid to the floor and broke into hundreds of tiny pieces. A strong hand caught Donnie's collar from behind, but Donnie was so furious at this point that he swung around and knocked the intruder down. This gave his opponent a vantage point. As Donnie turned back, the first fellow punched him in the left eye.
The police arrived and placed the two men under arrest for disturbing the peace. As Donnie was being led away in handcuffs, he shot a quick glance at Sharon. He could read nothing but horror in her expression. But one thing he knew beyond any shadow of a doubt, he was still in love with his wife and would not have felt a qualm of conscience had he broken her boy friend's neck.
A few hours later Donnie was on his way home. He was to be arraigned in court two weeks later, on a Friday, but now he was free on bond, which he paid with money he had intended to give to Sharon. She doesn't deserve any money from me. Let her boy friend pay her bills, he thought.
Donnie's left eye was black, and swollen shut. His jaw was swollen and felt as if it were broken. He was angry enough to explode. Mile after mile, he muttered and spluttered as he drove down the highway. I should have grabbed Christy and fled. But they would have had the law on me before I could have gotten out of town. Even if I had made it home with her, who would take care of her? He certainly would not have wanted to see that precious jewel neglected. She did look fat and healthy, he had to admit. Evidently, she was well taken care of.
Next, Donnie's thoughts turned to Sharon and her boy friend. Humph! I would have thought she would have had sense enough to have chosen someone better than that, the tall lanky-looking, long-haired monstrosity! Looked like something the dogs drug in. Where did she ever find him? The jerk! Calling me a jerk! Wish I had got in a few more punches before the policeman stopped me. I hope his ribs got broken when I knocked him up against that table. He looked like he was hurting pretty bad. I hope the ugly scoundrel is hurting as bad as I am. I hope he won't be able to go back to work for a while--if he even has a job. Didn't look like the type to work. If he has a job, I hope he loses it. I hope he has to go to the hospital. I hope it costs him a plenty. Anybody so no-good that he would steal another man's wife deserves all that and more, too.
And Mrs. Miller. She lied to me! I hope her conscience hurts her plenty for her lies. I hope she's sorry when she finds out what happened. I'll know never to believe anything she says again.
On and on, mile after mile, Donnie's thoughts ran on. Angry thoughts, bitter thoughts, jealous thoughts, thoughts of revenge. I'll get even with Sharon if it's the last thing I do. Nobody is going to put anything over on Donnie Slocum.
When he drove into the driveway at his mother's house several hours later, he was totally exhausted and in terrific pain. He entered the house and went straight to the medicine cabinet. Taking the aspirin bottle down, he emptied three tablets into his hand, replaced the cap, and put the bottle back into the cabinet. Now for a glass of water. After swallowing the aspirin tablets, he wrapped ice cubes in a towel and held them against his swollen jaw to relieve the almost unbearable pain. Occasionally he shifted the towel to his aching forehead. He kept wondering if his jaw was broken. He knew he would have to see a doctor if it was not better by Monday.
He felt famished. He had not eaten a bite all day. Still holding the makeshift ice bag to his face, he went into the kitchen and made himself a sandwich. But upon opening his mouth for the first bite, he winced. Finding it was torture to chew, he put the sandwich back in the refrigerator and drank a glass of milk instead. He crawled into bed and soon dozed off, but hunger and pain, plus troubled thoughts, kept him waking every little bit. In the wee hours of the morning, he got out of bed and swallowed some more aspirin. At last, the blessedness of sleep overtook him.
Sunday morning found Donnie's headache gone, but his jaw still hurt terribly, and he still could not chew. He drank some coffee and orange juice, but that did not satisfy his hunger. Searching through the cupboards for something he could eat, he found a box of cream of wheat. He fixed some of that and thinned it down so he could practically drink it, and that helped to ease the gnawing in his stomach.
After looking at himself in the mirror, Donnie decided not to visit his mom that day. Instead, he would call her and tell her he was going to spend the day with a friend. He knew that, though she looked forward to his Sunday visits, she would want him to put his own pleasure first. He told his conscience that it was better to lie than to upset her with his black eye and swollen face. So making up a name for his imaginary friend, he picked up the phone and called his mother.
Once that was done, satisfying his conscience as far as his mom was concerned, Donnie went down to the corner drugstore and purchased a paper and a couple of magazines. He had always enjoyed reading. Since he could do nothing else, he decided he might as well spend the day reading and watching television.
The morning passed quickly, but in the afternoon it was different. The time began to drag. Tired of reading, Donnie switched on the TV and sat sipping coffee and smoking while he watched. Soon, that too, became boring. He turned off the TV and looked around for something else to do. It was only three o'clock. Maybe he could go for a ride. Anything seemed better than being cooped up in the house all day. So, reaching into the closet for his jacket and picking up his keys, he put his thoughts into action.
He drove along slowly, going nowhere in particular, just idling away the time. Passing a little church, he glanced at it in his rear view mirror. It was the little church that his mom and Ralph attended. It was there Connie had found the thing that had revolutionized her life. Without knowing why he did it, Donnie stepped on the brake and backed up. There was no one in sight. He pulled into the parking lot and turned off the ignition and the radio. As he sat there quietly in his car, an indescribable feeling settled down upon him. For no apparent reason, he felt like crying. He dropped his swollen and bruised face onto his arms on the steering wheel and began sobbing brokenly. The memory of his past sins paraded before him: the lies he had told, the robbery, his unfaithfulness to Sharon, his smoking, drinking, stealing, cheating, deceitfulness, stubbornness, the broken vows, his broken home. He felt wretched and miserable. Was there any hope for him? he wondered. It seemed that life, as it was now, held nothing in store. He had lost the ones dearest to his heart. He had nothing left to live for. For a full hour, Donnie sat in his car in front of the church, taking inventory of his life and shedding bitter tears.
God dealt with Donnie's heart in a mighty way that afternoon. Prayers had been going up night and day for him. And yet ... he refused to repent. He refused to let go and let God have His way. He had a will of his own, and that will refused to yield. There were things he wasn't willing to give up for Jesus' sake. Most of all, he did not want to give up his freedom to do as he pleased. He did not want to spend all his time being good and going to church. Neither did he want to run the risk of being "called," as Connie had been, to go to some far-off place and work among strangers. All in all, he wanted to live his life just as he pleased, with no interference from a Higher Power.
Oh, he did not intend to be lost, but today he had counted the cost, and he deemed the price was greater than he was willing to pay. Little did he realize that the devil's price is much greater than what God requires of man. And the devil's reward is an eternity in hell, compared to God's reward of eternal bliss in heaven.
With a heart like lead, Donnie turned the key in the ignition and went on his way. Once again, he had rejected the wooings of the Spirit of God. Had he been familiar with the Scripture, "My spirit shall not always strive with man," his heart would have felt even heavier yet. He was conscious enough of the dealings of God to wonder if God would ever deal with him again. Would his mom's and
Connie's prayers go forever unanswered? Was he doomed for a devil's hell? He didn't want to think of it. He would put it out of his mind as he always had. He knew the best way to do this was by drinking until his mind was befuddled. He had a six-pack in the refrigerator at home. He turned his car around and headed in that direction.
It didn't take long, once he reached home, to finish off all the beer in the refrigerator. That accomplished the desired effect. Forgotten were the momentous decisions of the day.
Monday morning Donnie felt awful. Nevertheless, he dressed for work. He dreaded facing his fellow employees with his bruised jaw and black eye. He made up his mind that he was not going to tell anyone how he got it. It was nobody's business. They would think what they would. He could care less what anybody thought.
As he had supposed, Donnie took quite a bit of ribbing at work, but his secret remained locked in his breast. Those who knew him best were aware of his vile temper, so it was evident to them that he had met up with someone whose temper matched his.
At the arraignment, Donnie pleaded guilty and was fined and released. He caught a glimpse of Sharon as he was leaving the courtroom. He slowed his steps and looked in her direction. Their eyes met momentarily. He was not sure what he read there--whether the look on her face was one of love or of pity. He walked on past where she was sitting and left the courthouse. He got in his car but did not start the motor immediately. Perhaps Sharon would follow him, he thought. Perhaps they could still be reconciled.
He sat for ten minutes and then drove off, disgusted with himself for hoping again. He was convinced in his mind that God would never answer his mom's prayer concerning him and Sharon. They were through. From here on out, he would conduct himself like a single man. He would suppress the love he had for her. He would drive it from his heart if it killed him. He would not spend the rest of his life grieving over someone who had rejected him for the sort of trash Sharon was going around with. That day he settled it in his heart that he had made his last effort to be reconciled with Sharon.
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