You never know when they’ll come knocking.
Heath ran to the front door and peeked out the narrow Venetian blinds.
“Good. They’re not here yet. We’ve got time. Grace, I need you to grab a bag for yourself and one each for the kids. One each. We’ve got to get out of here, pronto. I filled up the tank last night so that shouldn’t be a problem.”
“What’re you talking about?” Grace said.
“Grace, just do as I tell you. Pack a back for yourself and one for the kids,” he stopped in mid-sentence and peered through the blinds again. “Pack only the essentials you need for two, maybe three months. Maybe more. I don’t know. I just don’t know. I don’t even know how quick they’ll respond.”
Up went a crack in the blinds again. “Why’d I do it? Why did I do it?”
“Stop, Heath, stop. Do what? What is going on here? You seem so frantic, so nervous. What happened? What’s this all about?”
“Here. You tell me. Maybe that’ll explain it. It’s from our mattress.”
Heath handed his wife a slip of torn paper with a flimsy plastic coating.
Do NOT Remove this Tag
Under Penalty of Law
“Heath, when your Mom dropped you on your head, was it accidental or intentional?”