Up early on a Sunday morning, I decide to attend the early service at the College Church. By myself. I like going by myself sometimes.
Service starts at 8:15 sharp, so I gotta leave the house by 8:05. Mom drops me off at the side entrance to the church building.
I sit through the service with a couple of other kids my age. The auditorium is warm and stuffy, and I feel drowsy in the middle of a crowded row.
After the service, I meet more friends for Bible class. We’re out by 10:30. Set free!
I walk and jog home, cutting across the Harding College campus.
I enter my house through the carport. I don’t need a key; we never lock the door.
I whip up some lunch, a grilled cheese sandwich and some potato chips. I scarf them down and turn on the TV. The house is quiet, and I’m all alone. I like the quiet. I like the alone.
I slip further down into the recliner. Ah, this is the life …
What was that?
The noise came from the back of the house, down a long dark hallway.
My ears perk up. I hear the faint rattle of a bedroom doorknob. Instantly, I jump up and run outside in my sock-feet.
I play in the yard—on the hard cold ground—until my mom returns from the late service. She smiles at me as she gets out of the car. We walk into the house together.
It appears to be empty.
|St. Louis Cardinals football fan and sometimes scaredy-cat.|