Abandoned Again

The caller ID on my phone read, “Jill Byron.”  I had just been to a meeting with Jill, a couple of hours ago.  I quickly picked up the phone.  “Hello.”

Shocked!  I heard crying.  “You left me alone!  I was alone.  It was dark.  I was scared—all alone!”

I-I-I didn’t know what to respond.  I thought back.
 
Jill was traveling from Medfield to Holliston’s Community Center.  She didn’t know the way.  We made arrangements to meet at a shopping plaza on Rte. 109, in Medway.  The actual directions were simple.  I’m sure she could have found the Holliston Community Center on Rte. 126, herself.  All you do is take Rte. 109 until it intersects with Rte. 126.  Then you take Rte. 126 towards Holliston, until you come to your destination. 

And we did meet at the plaza and she followed me to the meeting, which wasn’t long.   It just ended a little while ago.

But here is Jill sobbing.

 “I’m sorry.  I thought you were following me.  Everyone left the meeting at the same time.  I thought you were behind me.”  I did remember thinking that I hoped she was in one of the cars behind me.  I was first, and everyone else poured out of the parking lot, one right after the other.  I don’t know how that happened.  So what did happen?

Jill seemed collected now as she told me her story.  First, she couldn’t believe that I, and everyone else, were gone.  She was hurt and bewildered to find herself so suddenly in this situation.  We were all together laughing and talking and then suddenly it was dark; it was quiet; she was alone.  She felt intense fear.

She prayed.

Breaking the quiet, she was startled by a knock on her passenger window.  It was a strange man.  He was motioning her to open the window.

No way.

“C’mon lady.  Let me in.  It’s cold out here.”

Is he crazy?  Jill was fumbling with the keys trying to start the car. 
She dropped the keys.

He was rattling the door handle.  Thank God it was locked.  She was too shaky to fit the key in the ignition.

“C’mon, lady.  Open the door.  Let’s have some fun.”

Finally, the starter turned over.  She put the car in reverse and backed out of the parking spot.  He stood watching her.  He was staggering.  He must be drunk.

But Jill could care less.  She bolted out of that parking lot like a cat stuck in a sack. She automatically turned right and found herself passing familiar landmarks.  Then she sighed with relief when she recognized the big green sign directing her to Rte. 109 towards home.


What a relief!

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