I worry about the mother. I fear that one of these days, she really is going to get jacked, robbed, or, gulp, killed. Case in point: Last month’s stand-off ala Charles Bronson with a would-be robber at the carwash.
That brings me to the wee hours of this morning.
I had just gotten to sleep, finally feeling the woozy effects of a pain pill I’d taken an hour or so earlier. (It’s not something I do often, but my hands and legs were still very sore from the flooring demo and all the associated appliance-moving.) Suddenly, I hear my door open, and then the mother. “Can you come out here for a minute please?”
Huh? I was still semi-dazed and stumbled into the livingroom – to find a young girl seated on the loveseat. She looked to be about 17 or 18. She had on socks, but no shoes.
It was nearly 1 a.m.
“This girl is in trouble and I’m going to take her home,” the mother says to me.
“Wait. Let me go with you,” I say to the air as the front door closes in front of my still-dazed face. What the hell? Was the kid a front for a sinister plot? Was someone going to lure my mother away from the house, rob her (maybe worse), and steal Pearl? All kinds of horrible scenarios flashed through my mind. I debated going out and revving up Ladybird and trying to follow in the general direction I thought she was headed.
Twenty minutes later – that felt like hours – the mother returned. Apparently, this 14-year-old had been at a friend’s three or four miles away when another girl provoked a fight. Instead of fighting, this girl left and started walking home – in socks. She noticed a light on (and the front door was partially open) at This D*mn House and decided to ask to use the phone.
She said she was staying at her aunt’s a few miles away because her mother was working nights. My question: And how is that they didn’t know where the hell this kid was?! Lot of good that arrangement did.
I scolded the mother. “What if this kid HAD been just a lure?” I asked. “What if you’d ended up dead on the side of the road?” There sure wouldn’t be much I could tell the police.
“I couldn’t see calling the police and getting her into trouble,” says the mother. “And I sure just couldn’t leave her out there. What if one of these predators picked that poor child up and did something to her? I couldn’t live with myself.”
Folks, she is going to turn me completely gray. Completely.