Saturday, August 24, 2013

Zebulon - Day 117 - Historical Fiction

That was a miserable night we spent in the jail cells. Fortunately, we were in adjoining cells, and there didn't seem to be anyone else in the back area. I'm sure that only a deputy was out in the outer office, probably to answer the phone. 

They turned out the lights, so that there was only the light coming in through the transom over the door. Rosie had been afraid of the dark ever since she was just a little girl and everyone in our family knew she kept a night light near her bed. I could hear her softly sobbing a good part of the night until it finally stopped and she must have drifted off to sleep. I kept assuring her that everything would be okay. She did confess to me that she had done the shoplifting more than one time, but that she would not try it again. 

Next morning dawned cold and grey outside. We each had a cell window that looked to the outside, and I awoke shaking, not from the cold, but from fear within my very inner being. I didn't realize that I was under conviction from the Holy Spirit, and He was stressing the fact that I really needed Jesus in my life. Besides which, I was fearing the upcoming confrontation with my formidable grandmother, thus having both outer and inner fears. My life was a mess, to say the least.

The sheriff's deputy came in and let us go to the bathroom in the jail, and then after we each had gone in and used it, he took us down the street to the Lucky Plate Diner where we had met Millie. 

She was at work again, and also sitting at the same booth as the night before were our grandparents and two siblings. Les and Marie started to jump up and run to us, but were restrained with a single look from our grandma. Uh- oh! This looked really bad. 

(To be continued) 


Delores said...

So she's not hiding that she has them...interesting.

Grammy said...

She will have an excuse.