Domed Judgment

Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Pulling into my driveway, I realized I have been hoping against hope that my parents would be home waiting. The house was dark. Jazzy’s bark was muted.

“Can you give me fifteen minutes?” I asked.

“Sure. Granny’s waited this long,” Anna said. “Hey, would like me to come in and help with Jazzy? I think he likes me.”

“That’ll be a first. He only likes mom. But it would help. Don’t forget to put him on his leash; it’s above his crate. His food and stuff is in the cabinet next to it.” I unlocked the door. She went into the washroom where Jazzy was waiting.

I went to my room. What do I pack? It’s been a cooler year. Will I need fall clothes? I grab some stuff. I’m not that far away. Now, what do I have that might work for Layla?

Did mom get rid of my old clothes she packed up? Or just shove them into the basement? It was worth a look.

Before heading downstairs, I glanced around my room one last time. How much of this stuff really matters? I would trade almost everything to see my parents. My eyes zeroed in on my Bible carelessly tossed on the nightstand last Sunday after youth group. I added it to my backpack of treasures.

Grabbing last year’s backpack, I upended it. All the things I couldn’t do without last year tumbled out on to the floor. Memories flooded. They were good times but . . . The world was different. I turned from the memories. There were things that needed to be done.

In what I thought was an unused cellar, I found boxes upon boxes of my old clothes, toys and . . . What did mom do, save my entire childhood?

God, I feel useless. I have no idea what size clothing to grab for Layla. I am shocked at mom and dad saving everything. I knew they loved me. And sometimes, I felt smothered by all their attention. But. . . I miss them. Help them. Help us. Help me. I know you see all. Help me be strong during this trial.

I wondered if the sizes are equivalent to ages as I spot a stack of boxes labeled Mazie, age 8. I pulled the top one down yanking the flaps open. There on top I see my Blue’s Clue stuffed dog. She used to talk. I push her paw. No music. No fun quotes. When had she disappeared from my room? I can’t remember. Would Layla even know who Blue was?

I picked Blue up and laid her carefully off to the side. Rifling through the rest of the box, I find it loaded with clothes. I held up several outfits. It’s a place to start. I grabbed the box.

“Ready to go, Anna?” I asked when I reached the top step, walking into the kitchen. I stopped dead in my tracks, dropping the box.

“Nice of you to join us, Mazie?” Rodriguez said, standing with a gun to Anna’s head by the breakfast nook table. His left hand rubbed on her in the most inappropriate places. Jazzy yapped in his crate by the garage door, spinning around.

Ugh! The neighbor’s hired hand. The way he looked at me always creeped me out, I shivered. Could I call on God again? Had I used up my quota for the day? Especially since I hadn’t talked to him much lately, I was too busy getting ready for MY junior year in high school.

It wasn’t until I saw the flash and heard the bang that I noticed Mr. Green, my neighbor, propped up in the doorway. Rodriguez fell onto the table in a mist of red blood. Anna screamed sliding to the floor shaking.

“I’m . . . sor. . .ry. . . Maz. . .ie!” Mr. Green said as he slid to the floor holding his left hand over a bleeding stomach wound. His eyes rolled in the back of his head.

I screamed and screamed and screamed. I didn’t know what else to do. Then I cried and cried and cried. Sometime during this storm of emotions, Anna and I met, hugging and screaming and crying together. Jazzy did his part with yapping, barking and whining.

“We need to go get Granny.”Anna said. Our emotions spent.

“Should we go check Mr. Green? Or Rodriguez?” I quivered.

“I don’t think he,” Anna pointed to Rodriguez, “needs to be checked.” She pointed to Mr. Green, “He shot him through the head. Thank God.”

As I crawled over to Mr. Green feeling for breath or a pulse, my hand shook. Why do people, who don’t believe in God, want to thank him or even curse him? The logic boggles the mind.  It would be like me cursing a tree because Rodriquez was going to hurt us or thanking that tree because Mr. Green killed him.

Were there any hospitals located outside of population centers with fewer than ten thousand souls?  I wasn’t aware of any.  In the end we packed up Jazzy and my things and left.

God, I want to thank you for keeping Anna and I safe. I know they say to pray without ceasing but I’ve never needed you as much as I do now. Thank you.

Picking up Granny and Anna’s things went without a hitch. Granny was a lot more complaint than I thought she might be but then again she was on her medication. What were we going to do when the medicine ran out? There wasn’t a pharmacy located outside the quarantined areas.

It was late by the time we’d returned. Explaining the events at my house made me shaky again. The guys expanded the security plan. Their dad was a hunter and both the boys hunted with him. Everyone knew there was no police force to protect us. A patrolling Sheriff’s deputy might drive by but there was no calling for help, him or us.

© 2013 Kim Izzy