Deadline (Sandra Brown)

Gary Headly.”

 
    Diary of Flora Stimel—Christmas Day, 1993
     
     
I’m so blue, I can barely stand it. We stole from a church last night, which I’m pretty sure means I’ll go to hell. Of course I already knew I would, because I’ve killed people. Well, helped kill people. I’ve been there when Carl killed, and I think that’s the same as doing it myself.
Carl had me go into the church before the midnight service started. I watched people as they came in. Mommies and daddies and grandfolks. Some of the children were sleepy, being as the service started at 11:15, way past their bedtime. Others were excited and couldn’t sit still. I guess they were anxious to get home and into bed so Santa Claus could come.
It just made my heart ache, because I never got to spend a Christmas Eve with Jeremy and play Santa for him, and now he’s too old. He’s a senior in high school! I wish that just once I could have watched his face on Christmas morning when he found his presents under the tree.
It’s been a long time since he believed in Santa Claus, of course. What he believes in now, mostly, is his daddy. He thinks Carl hung the moon. Randy and Patricia have seen to it that he knows Carl’s ideas about things. They tell him about how men like Carl are smart enough to see everything that’s wrong in this country, and that’s why the government and the law hate and fear them and want to shut them up. Jeremy has caught on. Grabbed on, really. I’m glad of it. But it worries me.
I got off the track, which I do a lot whenever I write in this diary. I start thinking back and then…See? There I go again.
After the congregation sang “Silent Night” at midnight to candlelight (I had a candle, too. Everybody did. The people on either side of me had no idea that they were sitting next to a noted outlaw! Bet they would have croaked!)…Anyhow, everyone started filing out of the church. Except me. I went into the ladies’ room, which I’d made sure to locate before I took my seat in the sanctuary.
Only one other woman came in. She did her business quick and left. Her family was probably waiting on her. I stood on the toilet seat in case a janitor or somebody came in to check the stalls and see if everybody was gone, but the lights went out with me still balancing up there.
I waited another ten minutes like Carl had told me to, then turned on my flashlight and left the restroom. What had looked so pretty in the candlelight looked kinda spooky in the dark. The statues and all. But I tried not to look at anything except the circle of light I directed to the floor.
I let Carl and Henry in through a side door. No alarm sounded, but Carl said it was probably a silent one. Henry joked and said, “Only God can hear it, I guess.” I didn’t think it was funny. Carl sorta laughed, but he was focused on picking the lock on the church office door.
We grabbed the bags the ushers had emptied the offering plates into and got the heck out of there. But there must have been a silent alarm, because when we ran out of the church, there was a policeman just stepping out of his patrol car. He pulled his pistol and hollered for us to halt. Carl shot him in the chest. Henry got him in the head, I think.
As we were running to the car, Henry fired at the figures in the Nativity on the church lawn. He claims he doesn’t believe in God or Jesus or Allah or anything, but he sure bears them a grudge.
We made a safe getaway and came away with good cash. But I felt awful about it and didn’t get high like the men did after we boarded the boat and started south. I hope the sailor, or whatever it is you call the guy who drives the boat, can drive it when he’s stoned. They all got stoned good. Carl included, which is why I felt it was okay to get out my diary and write.
I hope Jeremy likes his presents. I haven’t seen him since we went to Vancouver this past summer. I can’t get over how grown he is! A man, really. I was shocked when we hugged and I felt whiskers on his chin! I don’t know when I’ll get to see him again. I’ve started mentioning his high school graduation which will be in the spring. I say over and over again how much I wish I could be there. Carl acts like he doesn’t hear me. But maybe he’ll take the hint.
The sun’s coming up and I’m seasick from writing, so I’d better put this way. But not before saying, Merry Christmas, Jeremy. I love you.
     
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Dec. 25th, later. We get TV even out here on