All Travis could think about was getting his finger on that yellow doorbell. In a coal black night, blinded by a hailstorm, he set his mind, like some internal GPS, driven by the thought of that glowing bell.
He managed to use the last of his spare change for the bus fare from the Rescue Mission to the suburb. Walking split stones along the road, his green Army coat flew up into the raking wind, like some prehistoric wingspan. Car lights flooded his path. Blazing horns drilled his ears. One car cornered him off the road into a ditch, but he got up, as if spiritual pistons drove his burning legs.
Struggling to see where every step would lead, he thought about when he got saved. He knew instantly, and exactly what he had to do. He had to tell the ones he hurt the most. His former wife Tracy lived with another man, but there's a little girl, and her name is Haley, only six years old, who lives at 717 Warner Road. It drove his mind, like a torch roaming the cavern of his mind.
He came near the house, and could see the doorbell, shinning like a caution light. He descends to the driveway, like some phantom from the past. He feels his gravelly beard, and prays they see the change in his desperate eyes. The hail changed to a soft falling snow, like feathers on his beard, and shoulders.
A cold wave of fear jolted his body. He pulled his shivering finger from his pocket. He listened for a moment, face brushing the door. A television screamed cartoons. Pans fell to the floor, near the kitchen. Shouts, and words exchanged inside. He takes his other hand and uses it to steady his finger. Ring! Ring!!
He stumbled backward falling off the step. Johnson, her boyfriend, pushed the door halfway. His baldhead shone in the hallway. Travis caught a glimpse of his former wife, who turned back in her long golden hair. "Who is it?" she hollers.
"Oh just some one got lost and needs directions!" Johnson smiled wide, revealing a gold tooth, dark gaping teeth. Wearing only a muscle shirt, he stood outside, and closed the door. His arms folded, as snow melts on his biceps. His eyes light up when he knows who is before him. "I've been waitin a long time for this."
Johnson picked him up by his collar, and threw him into the film of snow on his lawn, like a sack of garbage, spinning and sliding toward a culvert. "You get out, and don't come back here!"
It took several minutes, but Travis got up again, legs soaked. He fell once more on the slick ground, and stumbled over to the doorbell. This time he held his finger down longer. Ring!!!
The door flew open! Johnson's nostrils flared. "Boy you don't listen so good!"
His ex wife, came to the door, and caught a glimpse. Haley ran from the other room wedged between them to see this bum down on his knees to pray or plead.
Tracy took a moment to study this pathetic figure, as he lifts his head, she sees his gray-blue eyes. Travis noticed the discovery in her eyes. She covered Haley, and fell back.
Before Johnson's foot tore his face off, Travis had a moment that felt harder than her boyfriend's blow. Like a sledgehammer, she closed the door to his heart!
When he awoke, he found himself in a ditch face down, but every time he tried to crawl out of it, he slid back. With the last of his strength oozing from his body, he held up his arms to the black cauldron of the sky. "Jesus! My spirit belongs to you."
A flood of lamplights shone in the ditch. Travis couldn't see, and didn't know if the sounds above were angels talking. He did not know that he looked like a frozen "Iceman"
The strangers removed him from the ditch, and placed him in a car, and drove him to a nearby Motel 6.
Sometimes he would wakeup to a blurred vision, and could hear people in a room talking, or whispering. In a moment, a brilliant flash of light cleared his vision. Near his bed, holding his hand was Tracy. Next to her, their daughter Haley, plants a kiss on his small rose-colored patch of face.
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