The Next Lot

Several cars slow as they pass the church but speed up almost immediately.One of the cars flies past me and soaks my ankles. I see Mr. Clives is talking with Mark and an officer. I clutch the handle of my umbrella as Mark excuses himself and heads towards me. My heart is beating faster now. "Hey Jenna." "Hey, what's going on?" I ask trying to seem calm and collected. " Somebody broke into the church." "Oh my gosh, you're kidding!" "Nope, seems like whoever did it only "broke" into the Pastor's office. They apparently had a key for the main door." "But why? I mean what did they take?" " Well, I cant exactly be sure of everything until Pastor Daily gets here." ' So he's on his way?" "Yeah, he knows what's going on." " I think his new guitar is gone, the rear sound board is definitely gone and a pair of speakers too." "Oh man." I'm in disbelief of the facts just laid before me. Who on earth would do this in Canter Falls? "The weird thing to me though is that they had a key for the front door." "Well, I mean that's as long as no one left the door unlocked." " That's true." " So how did you find out about this?" " Pastor Daily called me and asked me to come over. Seems he got a text from a number he didn't recognize saying that the church was going to be broken into to." I just keep feeling more and more stumped and shocked. " So by the time Pastor daily called the police it was too late?" "Yep." "I just can't believe this." I repeat to myself.

I'm getting really concerned because we never see this kind of action in town. What could have happened?? Susan B., deciding that we need some positive thinking exclaims with deep concern, " Perhaps Pastor Daily has been...murdered! I read about these things all the time. It happens. Pastor preaches a sermon, some nut doesn't like it and bang..." "Good heavens." says Mr. Clives obviously perturbed.I hear Martin beside me say under his breath, " We can only be glad she reads and doesn't write...can you imagine."he chuckles to himself. Mrs. Batinkoff has a terrible look on her face. " I happen to know," began Mr. Clives."That Pastor Daily is away for the afternoon at a meeting in Charlottesville." Mrs. Batkinkoff smiles at him looking relieved. Is that a glimmer in his eye? Oh brother, a moment of romantic reprieve in the midst of a police raid! Our meeting is definitely unable to resume so I dismiss us. Everyone heads back out into the rain. However, I see Mr. Clives is going down the street towards the church. He looks like a type of Lt. Columbo from the back. I decide to follow him but first call Lydia. She cleans the Church so maybe she knows what's going on. Plus I'm a little surprised she didn't make it to our meeting. She's told me before its the highlight of her week. I dial her number, but get no answer. I send her a text but get no reply. One more time... still no answer. Now I'm worried about her. I've gotten the vibe that she isn't very happy at home. I hope she's o.k. Looking out the window my curiosity gets the better of me and I decide to set out for the church. Clad in my raincoat and holding a red umbrella I trek through the pouring rain and puddles to the old brick building.

I wait a while for my last book club member , Lydia. She's really late by now so I proceed figuring the weather may have deterred her.The book club is going smoothly as the rain continues to pour down and the wind begins to pick up even more. I notice that Martin is distracted looking out the window every now and again. "Is something wrong?" I finally ask. Still looking out the window he answers me,"There's a bunch of police cars heading towards the church." Now we're all curious and head to the windows to look out. Sure enough there in front of the church are three police cars. In my mind I begin to think of a million possible reasons for this scene. In this crazy October monsoon we can barely see, but can make out officers in rain coats scampering into the church. Now our whole group is discussing not the last chapter of our book , but rather, what on earth is going on in sleepy Canter Falls?

I decide to put on some music ,the heartbeat of my day. The first to show up for book club is Mr. Clives. This bugs me a little because he's traveled the world and I'm sure nothing I know would interest him.He makes quite the spectacle on the front stoop drenched wearing a Lt. Columbo coat and a fedora befitting Frank Sinatra. I can imagine Mr. Clives at one of those old celebrity roasts with Dean Martin. Trying not laugh I feel as though he might say, "Clives, Inspector Clives, where's the body?" If he were a man of humor, which he is not, I would open the door and say "Mrs White , in the Library with the candlestick..." But instead I find myself saying,"Good morning Mr. Clives, how are you?" He looks at me smugly "Oh fine Miss Richards, this weather is much like that of the weather in Europe where I spent many years." Yes, how could I have forgotten, a pox upon me for being the commoner I am. Never having been out of the country, my company is far less suitable for Mr. Clives than that of Mrs. Batinkoff. The lovely Russian woman immigrated many years ago and is in the words of "Inspector Clives" "most agreeable and charming". I'm convinced he only comes to these primitive little gatherings because of her. He comes in and hands me his coat, "May I take your ...hat ( trying really hard not to giggle). "Thank you." he says heading into the sitting area. As I hang up his detective gear I notice Jackie making a run for it across the street where she parked her brand new minivan. Baby number one and her and her husband already got a minivan...soo cute. The baby carrier is covered with a blanket so little one month old Liam doesn't get wet. The wind must be getting stronger because the Elvis umbrella Jackie has in her free hand seems to keep going up. What a sweet mom. "Hi Jackie let me help you there", I say taking the umbrella and her raincoat. "Thanks, gee what crazy weather huh,maybe I should have put a life jacket on him..." She gestures to the baby and we both laugh.I hang up the wet baby blanket and begin to oooh and ahhh. Let me have a look at the wee Lad" I say with a scottish accent picking up the baby. Jackie's husband Mac is from Scotland and we joke about the way he says certain things. I spent lots of time with Jackie before Liam was born.She is like the sister I never had and since Mac travels a lot for business I kept her company while he was away. We watched Anne of Green Gables three times and Little Women more than that. I also taught her how to knit and make biscuits... Good times. As Jackie and Liam join Mr. Clives I hear laughter outside. Mrs. Batinkoff and Martin are making there way sharing an umbrella. Once again I open the door and welcome my guests,"Come on in out of that rain." "With Pleasure." says the prim old lady as she takes my hand in a squeeze/handshake. Sweet yet formal. She turns to Martin," Tankyou for sharingk your umbrella."

,"Your welcome Evi." Hmph...Evi, I never have known her first name. Apparently Martin is quite the charmer, she squeezes his hand too.

The Part You're Reading

After two years of hosting the book club the same folks still come. There is quite a variety among our group. Mrs.Batinkoff to start, is a seventy year old oil painter who immigrated from Russia in the seventies. Jackie is a modern day nineteen fifties house wife. She always has her nails painted red and brings her new born baby boy, Leo,to our meetings. There's Lydia the cleaning lady from church... Mr. Clives, who I think only comes because of the recently widowed Mrs. Batinkoff.No matter what she says he agrees. Martin , a newcomer joined us in the spring. He graduated from art school and came here, like me, to open a shop. He runs a pottery gallery where he sells and displays his creations. And last but not least there is Susan-b. Her name is actually Susan-b., I still haven't figured that one out. She's a crazy lady, She reads all the time, her husband too. They run an alpaca farm several miles outside of town. Once I went to their house to pickup some alpaca wool yarn I ordered from them. Susan's husband with an equally odd name, "D.T" opened the door and told me to "Come right in." My initial thought was "how?" There were books stacked everywhere,baskets of wool and a giant spinning wheel and loom right in the middle of the living room. Six tiny dogs of various breeds and obnoxious barks nipped at my ankles and tore about the house following us at break neck speed. They ran about with their toenails clickedy clacking the wood floor. As a result of this pandemonium all the throw rugs were flung to the right or left. But was D.T deterred, oh no. He led me down a hallway that smelled like incense to a room painted pumpkin orange with beads hanging over the door. "Sue, the book girl is here." he looked at me and winked oddly. There was Susan b. in a hammock suspended from the rooms corners. She was of course reading and wearing some sort of kimono. On the way out I noticed that one of the alpacas was wearing a string of beads around his neck. My next thought was "far out". Before I know it my work out video is over. I realize that the Bronx has yet to be walked. I look out the window and see that it's still pouring. There's only one thing to do. I find my self standing by the back door with a treat in my hand acting like one of those people who possess a bumper sticker that reads "I love my grand dog." My human-like dog is staring at me. I'm waving the treat, "Come on big boy go potty , go..outside...come on handsome." I wave the treat closer for effect.He's drooling and following the treat with his eyes. I think Iv'e got him and gleefully toss the treat into the tiny back lot. He looks out,looks up and goes back to his doggy bed. I roll my eyes. Closing the door I hear thunder rumble in the distance.

The Coffee Part

My eyes are squinting open. I hear music...the Chi-lites are signing "Oh Girl". I groggily wonder if they are in my room or on the radio. I remember now. I set my alarm clock for radio instead of that sweet buzzing option. I always find I feel harassed every morning by that thing. But the Chi-lites...aaahh. I could just lay here all day and go back to sleep. Downstairs I hear the "ding" of my coffee pot. "Time to make the donuts". I say to Bronx who is obviously dreaming about a giant possum. His eyebrows are twitching and he keeps licking his chops. "It's time to get up," I tell myself. I see it's raining. All of those cutesy Folgers commercials are coming to mind, I imagine a tall handsome man bringing me breakfast in bed... You know the bit with the fresh squeezed orange juice and the scones he just "whipped up". Haha.. not a chance. "Bronx, Bronx...fetch the coffee my love." He looks unmoved,"Bronx?" Yup, I'm on my own this morning. I throw off my covers and find its quite chilly in my room. I cant seem to find my robe so I put on my big woolly sweater.(by the way woolly looks ridiculous with two l's doesn't it.) The house is pretty dark so I turn on all the lamps as I fumble down the stairs. Finally the kitchen and the coffee. "Come to Mama you dark Kona King you." I say of the specialty blend I bought from The Daily Grind. When you live alone you tend to talk to yourself a bit, it doesn't worry me... maybe it should,haha. I fix my coffee,heavy whipping cream and just a bit of sugar, its my daily calorie splurge. Perching atop one of my ladder back chairs I begin to wonder about Dad. It breaks my heart that we feel so differently about the most important things in life. Dad just feels like Jesus is all inclusive, meaning anyone who donates blood or volunteers at the SPCA is His follower. I beg to differ. Believe me I believe Jesus is love because He tells us so Himself, people however aren't. Daddy naively believes man is basically good and that deep down inside we have an inner goodness and light. We have had this conversation many times, " I always say "Daddy, the only good in people is the good that Jesus brings." I have shown him in the Bible where it says that apart from God we have no good thing but He doesn't take those bits literally so... Back upstairs I change into my gym clothes. On these rainy days I walk inside with one of those perky dvd physical fitness people. As I march up and down the sitting area the mail man waves at me through the big front window. He winks as he tosses my mail in the slot on the front door. His umbrella is streaming with rain. Embarrassed I smile. My body is on auto pilot. I'm kicking right and left but thinking about what to discuss during my book club meeting in two hours. I wonder if anyone will come out in this weather.

The More Exciting Part

All night I lie half awake thinking about what Mark said. I also cant help thinking and praying about Tonie and her corageous descion. The mentoring for the young girls would be a great oppurtunity to share what God has done in my life... In a way I've already been mentoring... I know what Mavice would say, "Go for it." My window is cracked to let in some of the cool night air. It is a little chilly but I like it when I'm in my flannel p.j's. My thoughts are tumbling around and I cant sleep when suddenly I hear a clank outside. My ears perk I cant say as much for Bronx who is snoring already. I figure it was nothing and concentrate on sleep. "Clank!" There it is again. I decide I'de better check things out. I sit up and dig around in the night stand drawer for a flashlight. EEEwww something sticky has found my fingers. I cant very well see what it is. Blast! There it is. I switch on the battey operated light . Oh good grief its a cough drop half dissolved. The red dye is all on my hand. I stumble to the window and look out into the street. I figure I better not turn on my lamp lest it be a burgular. At least thats how they always do it in Perry Mason and Poirot. Across the street I can make out a figure, a very large figure. Im squinting to see better but to no avail, by this time of night in our little town everyone is asleep and the lights are all out. "Clank!" It sounds like something is hitting the concrete in front of Mrs. Crandly's shop. Whatever it is its making alot of rackett. Surely I'm not the only one hearing this. The clouds roll along and the moon is shining a little bit brighter, if I did'nt know better I'd say it was a a... Suddenly the shop ;light flashes on. "Great Scott! its a big old black bear eating Hammy's catfood in his metal bowl. The look on Mr. and Mrs. Crandlys faces from behind the shop door are priceless. The bear dashes into the shadows spooked and robbed of a free meal. Mrs. Crandly I can see is wearing some kind of Scottish tartan nightgown frm her ears to her ankles, and ... oh dear how unfortunate, Mr. Crandly is wearing much less. Obviously the Crandly's have never had a bear visit before. And judging by the baseball bat in his hand, Mr. Crandly wasn't at all sure what to exspect. How amazing though I've never seen a bear that close to home!