Last year I did Spring cleaning putting clothes that I wanted to donate into large black plastic bags.
I put them on the front porch to await the pick up .
Afterwards, when I walked past the hallway “something” strongly warned me to remove the bags from the porch immediately.
I said "okay, just a minute".
The minute turned to hours and the hours turned into days. I forgot all about the warning.
The next morning right after my husband and children left, I heard a knock on the front door.
I looked through the little window and a clean cut young man stood there looking back at me.
He was holding a big black plastic bag. I thought he was a friend of one of my children.
I opened the door.
Then he said, “Mom, please let me come back home.”
I slammed the door. Okay! Thank God for nice study locks!
Peering through the window, I told the boy that he had the wrong house.
He shook his head ”No.” Then he proceeded to beg me to let him come home again.
Okay. Whats the number to 911?
As I dialed the police I took off running through the house to make sure the back door and side door was secure.
As I waited for the Police, I also called my husband and children and told them what was happening.
The boy was still standing there after about twenty minutes.
I guess the Police stopped for breakfast because it was taking them a long time.
My dog was barking in the back yard which was good.
The boy now was pounding on the door, shouting “MOM! MOM! LET ME IN!”
I peeked through the window and saw him still clutching the big plastic bag.
Finally the police showed up. They ran to the porch and began asking questions.
The boy told them that I had thrown him out of the house and would not let him come back home.
Through the door I told them that I had never seen the young man before and he surely was not my son.
He began to whimper again for me to let him in.
Amused, the Policewoman told me to come outside, that I had nothing to be afraid of.
I asked her if she was sure.
She replied “Yes, the boy is harmless”.
I opened the door and the boy lunged between both officers toward the door.
They dragged him off the porch and threw him spread eagle on the grass.
They again began to question the boy.
The Female officer said once again, “Maam please come out!”
I told her I would come out when he was handcuffed.
They handcuffed the boy and put him in the squad car, I came out to talk to them.
By this time my husband had arrived and ran between the officers up to the boy in the car.
“Are you crazy?” He still had on his industrial hairnet.
The Police told my husband to calm down.
They then asked the boy if my husband was his dad.
He answered, “I never seen this man before. He is not my dad, but that’s my mom right there.”
Suddenly my husband and the officers thought that was very funny.
My daughter arrived and ran up to the squad car. “Are you crazy!” she asked. “What are you doing coming to our house carrying a plastic bag like that!”
My son arrived and ran up to the squad car. He bent down and peered inside.
He said, “Dude…that’s not cool…Dude! Why are you calling our mother your mother, Dude? That’s not cool. Dude!
Don’t come back to our house, Dude.” He bent down to look closely at the boy
“Don’t let us see you around here again , Dude.”
My husband looked at my son and said, “Go back to school.”
My son, who was a film student, ran to his car and got his camera. He pointed it at the boy and began filming.
The boy straightened his shirt and looked into the camera.
“Is this going to be on the News?”
The police took the boy away.
We found his plastic bag and looked through it.
Along with clothing and toiletries, was all of his identification.
He was a disturbed person and in and out of a facility that treated people with his disorder.
He was right about one thing. His mother had sent him away.
When we contacted her, she cried about the trials of taking care of a boy his age with such health problems.
Evidently when he saw the black plastic bags on our porch, it triggered some kind of response in him, as he was walking homeless, with a black plastic bag himself.
We wished his mother the best of care and of comfort through her trials.
PLEASE ENCOURAGE AUTHOR,
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