CHAPTER TWO
As Donnie pulled into the driveway in front of the little white frame house, memories flooded his mind. Instead of getting out of the car immediately, he lit up a cigarette and sat quietly reminiscing.
He had been home only a few times since going back to college after his automobile accident five years before. How different things had been back then! At that time, his heart had become tender toward the things of God. His long convalescence with his mom's care had brought that about. Her holy influence and prayers had been almost too much to resist. He had even attended church a few times with her.
Ralph, too, had had his part in influencing Donnie toward taking God's way. Donnie had seen how Ralph's life was changed, and it had started him thinking seriously about spiritual matters. In fact, he had even gone to the altar once, but he failed to really go through with God. He had a burning desire for education, and he knew what to expect when he went back to the college he had attended. He wasn't willing to be a "speckled bird." Even though his injury in the wreck had hindered him for two semesters, and his former friends would be in higher grades, yet he knew he would soon be involved with the same type of associates he had had before, and he wasn't willing to take a stand and be different.
What it amounted to was that Donnie did not want to give up all his worldly pleasures and be like Ralph and his mom and his twin sister, Connie. He had to admit they were happier than they had ever been before, They seemed thrilled enough with their new life. But Donnie felt he was entirely different. He just could never settle down to attending church for entertainment. Too many other interesting things beckoned him.
When he left to go back to college, he had promised his mom that he would never take up the habit of smoking again. And of course, he had never intended to put the bottle to his lips again. Drinking had been the cause of the wreck that had left him with a slight limp. He felt he had been lucky that time, though Connie said it wasn't luck but prayer that caused God to extend mercy to him. So he truly never intended to drink again, not even a beer. He thought he was through with the stuff. But when he got back to college with the smoking and drinking crowd, he soon found out just how weak he really was when it came to resisting evil.
As Donnie looked back over the years since leaving home, it seemed as if nothing had gone right for him. He thought he was really happy when he and Sharon dropped out of school and got married, but as he looked back on it now, he realized marriage had been an escape from his failures in school. Oh, he had loved Sharon--still did. They had met shortly after he had gone back to school and had been inseparable ever since--until now, that is. They were happy, in a way. Sharon was a sweet girl and they had good times together, but she had taken up smoking and drinking in college, just as Donnie had. After they both drank a few beers together, they usually ended up in an argument, and Donnie had even slapped her around on several occasions when he had had too much to drink. Afterwards he was always sorry and would take her in his arms and apologize and promise to never, never do it again. But his promises seldom held for long. So their marriage had been rather stormy from the beginning.
After Sharon discovered she was expecting a child, she heeded her doctor's advice and quit smoking. Then before little Christy was born, Sharon quit drinking beer, too, declaring she didn't want her baby ever to see its mother with a beer can in her hand.
Donnie wondered if his mother's prayers had anything to do with this change in Sharon. Before they ever visited Donnie's home, Sharon had been warned about Mrs. Slocum's peculiarities, her faithful church attendance and her disdain for worldly habits and amusements, yet it was hard to conceal some things. Of course, they would not have dared drink a beer while they were there, but smoking was different; the odor of it on their breath and clothes could not be mistaken, and Mrs. Slocum had let them know that she was greatly disturbed over their bad habits.
Sharon had confided in Donnie how ill at ease she was in his home with the family devotions, the table blessings, and his mom's witnessing. So when they had vacation times, more often they spent them with Sharon's parents whose "broad-mindedness" put the two young people at ease. They told themselves it was because Sharon's parents lived closer to the college town in which they had settled.
Yet in the few times they had been to Donnie's home, Sharon had learned to respect Mrs. Slocum, and she admired her clean living. It especially set Sharon to thinking when Mrs. Slocum told her she had once been bound by sinful habits until God had changed her life.
For a while after little Christy was born, ten months ago, things had changed for the better in Donnie's and Sharon's home. Christy became the center of their attention and brought them happiness beyond their greatest expectations. Donnie even shyly suggested they start attending church. He did not want his daughter reared like a heathen, he told Sharon.
But in spite of all their good intentions, the new pressures of life began to wear on them. Christy's night colic left both Donnie and Sharon exhausted from lack of sleep. Sharon became irritable. She missed getting out in the working world. The household routine became dull and Christy's demands on her life seemed unfair. Donnie found himself in financial problems, with Sharon not working. Always there was some new difficulty to face.
Donnie began drinking more than ever, only now he was going to the bar to drink in order to get away from the pressures at home. There he could forget every thing--almost--with the laughing girls. But then guilt set in. He began blaming Sharon for his failure as a husband and father, saying she had pushed him out of her life, that she no longer had time for him. All her time was consumed in taking care of Christy. Sharon laid the blame on Donnie for not helping her more at home so she would have more time for him.
On several occasions Donnie was too tired and sleepy to get up when the alarm went off in the morning. Sharon began to nag. Donnie missed whole days of work. Some days he just went in late. Eventually he was warned that he could expect to be dismissed if this continued. He did better for a couple of weeks, and then he began to get careless again. He was called in to the office. Donnie tried to explain away his negligence, saying the baby kept him from sleeping at night.
"Almost every man in this factory has children," he was told, "and they all manage to get to work on time. You were warned. Your job is terminated as of today."
Donnie felt he couldn't go home and face Sharon, so he went to the bar instead. He arrived home several hours later, very drunk. He didn't remember falling to sleep on the couch, but he found himself there when he awoke at midnight. By that time, he had sobered up some and was able to undress and go to bed.
The next morning, he reluctantly confessed to Sharon that he had lost his job. Of course this caused more tension in the home. Not only were he and Sharon together too much with too little to do, but also there was more to argue about because of the lack of money for their needs.
Donnie went out every night, against Sharon's entreaties. A pretty blonde at the bar sympathized with him and helped him to forget his troubles.
But his troubles became even greater when Sharon found lipstick on his shirt. She accosted him with it, and since there was no way to lie out of it, he told her the truth. But instead of admitting he was in the wrong and begging forgiveness, Donnie blamed Sharon for driving him to it. This had been "the straw that broke the camel's back" with Sharon. She immediately called her dad for money, then packed hers and Christy's things and left.
That cured Donnie of his philandering, but though he called Sharon several times to try to tell her so, she informed him in no uncertain terms that she had had enough, and that she and Christy were both happier with her parents.
So, Donnie reasoned now, looking up at the little frame house sitting in the darkness, What more could I do?
He had been trying to put them out of his mind, trying to forget that either of them had ever existed. But, of course, that was easier said than done. He knew now that, in spite of all their problems, he did not want to forget his l
ittle sandy-haired wife. He remembered how her greenish-brown eyes used to twinkle with mischief. Oh, how he wished he had her here with him right now! It took all the will power he possessed to keep from calling her every day and promising her everything imaginable to get her back. And what wouldn't he give to be able to clasp little Christy in his arms once again, to cover her face and hair with kisses!
He groaned aloud. "Oh-h-h, my darlings! How my heart aches for you! But I guess I've messed things up for us forever."
Finally, Donnie got out of the car. He stretched his stiff limbs and yawned, still putting off entering the house alone. Glancing at his watch, he noticed it was 2:15. No wonder he was so tired and sleepy! He had come a long way, and then had sat for over an hour just thinking.
He walked onto the porch and tried the door. As to be expected, it was locked. Going back down the steps, he stooped down and reached underneath the house, feeling around on a little ledge until he found the key in its hiding place. As far back as he could remember, his mother had kept an extra key in their secret hiding place, "in case someone ever got locked out accidentally." Well, tonight he was locked out, not accidentally, but locked out, nevertheless.
Returning to his car, he got out his suitcase, locked the car, and went back up the steps and unlocked the door. He reached for the switch and stood blinking as his eyes became accustomed to the light. Looking around the room, he saw that nothing had changed since his last visit, except for a piano in the corner of the living room where at one time a TV had stood. Donnie recalled that his mom had written about taking piano lessons. It had amazed him. He had always thought piano lessons were for little girls. But he had come to the conclusion that he need not be surprised at anything his mom did since she had gotten religion. She was definitely a changed person.
Going down the familiar hall, Donnie went into the room that had always been his and flipped on the light. He quickly noted the changes there: a new bedspread and new curtains. And a new picture on the wall! A picture of Christ knocking at a door.
I'm sure this is to remind me, when I come home from time to time, that Christ is knocking at my heart's door, Donnie thought, his face grim.
Dismissing religion from his mind, he glanced toward the bed and discovered another new item. This one a tiny motto sitting on the night stand that said:
Only one life, 'Twill soon be past
Only what's done for Christ will last.
How will I be able to stay here with religion everywhere? he asked himself.
He hurriedly undressed, flipped the light switch, and jumped into bed. With a deep sigh, he settled down between the snowy sheets, expecting the blessedness of sleep to soon overtake him, but not so. His tired muscles, mind, and body refused to relax.
As he lay there tossing and turning, he heard a car door slam out front and saw a light flash in his window. Then he heard a loud rap at the door. In an instant, he was out of bed and reaching for his pants. Who could be pounding on the door at this hour in the morning? he wondered. Without waiting to put on his shirt and shoes, he hurried to the door. When he turned on the porch light, he saw a policeman. His first thought was of his mother. Oh, what if something had happened to her! Why hadn't he gone on in, even though it was late?
Trembling noticeably, Donnie turned the knob and opened the door. "What's wrong?" he asked.
"That's what I want to know," the policeman answered, his voice gruff. "We received a call that a burglar had broken in here. I understand that the lady who lives here is in the hospital." Then softening, he added, "But you don't look like a burglar. Who are you?"
"I'm Mrs. Slocum's son. Donnie Slocum," he answered. "I'm from out of town and just arrived a little while ago."
"Sorry to disturb you, Mr. Slocum." The policeman looked embarrassed. "May I see some identification? You understand we have to be cautious."
"I'll get my driver's license," Donnie grunted in a not-too-pleasant tone.
He returned to his room for his wallet and showed the officer his identification.
"Thanks, Mr. Slocum, and accept my apologies. We're in the line of duty."
"That's okay, mister, but if you get any more calls tonight, please ignore them. I'm dead tired."
"All right. We know now, sir. Trust you get a good rest."
"So do I," Donnie murmured fervently to himself as he put the night latch on the door and returned to bed.