I became about half awake by the ringing of the phone. Upon picking it up a voice said, " Room 819, you left the blinkers on in your car in the garage on the lower level." I answered, "The car belongs to Mr. Brickner in room 820. Call him." I looked at my watch. It was 3:00 o'clock, so I pulled the covers up over my shoulders. Sure that Fran would take care of everything, I went back to sleep to the faint ringing of the phone.

The sunlight shining in my window woke me and suggested that I get moving. It was 8:30, so I quickly showered and dressed and went over and knocked on my son-in-law's door to make sure he was up. His cheery voice rang out, " I'll meet you in the lobby in fifteen minutes." And lo! and behold! I couldn't believe the story that he and the desk clerk had to tell me of what went on in the night while I so naively went back to sleep.

It seems that Fran was suspicious as soon as the desk clerk phoned. While he was dressing to go down, he was turning over in his mind what he should do: leave the money he had with him in his room or take it along. It occurred to him that maybe the desk clerk hadn't called at all. Knowing some of the things that can happen, the thought came to him that anyone could have called him from any place in that large motel. They could be using the flicker lights as an excuse to get him down in that darkened garage alone. He was sure he had not left them on, or we would have noticed them as we were locking up the car.

Anyway, as it turned out, the two night watchmen who were on duty that night did not show up for work, and as a result five cars were broken into and one was stolen. I think the reason they singled out Fran's station wagon was because it was brand new and was locked, so they must have assumed that it must have something valuable in it. They took all of Rose' s gowns, the gifts people had given her. The radio she had given Fran for Christmas. Everything was pulled out of the dashboard glove compartment on to the floor. They gained entry by prying open the little draft window on the driver' s side, but they could not move this car because the steering wheel was locked.

We made a pact between us not to tell Rose a word about this until she was released from the hospital.

So we hurried over to the giant building that was housing the person who was uppermost in both our minds to see how she was, before we went to Mass on this sunshiny Sunday morning that was so different from yesterday when the clouds seemed never empty of rain. Rose seemed about the same as when we left her the night before.
We found a quaint little corner church that looked very much like a little country schoolhouse. Imagine this in Cleveland, Ohio.

The Pastor's sermon was on Confession. He said that even before Vatican II, he felt that little children could never commit sins, so as a young assistant helping to prepare first and second graders for their First Holy Communion it was his job to hear half of the Confessions and the Pastor would hear the other half. Well, it seems that when the children came into his confessional and he would slide back the little door, he could hear a scared small voice say, " Bless me, Father ." At that he would say, "And God Blesses you too, my child. Go in peace." When he slid the little door back into place, he could hear the outer door of the confessional open and close upon what he thought was a relieved little child. His closing statement was "And my Pastor always wondered why I could hear so many more Confessions than he in the same length of time."

(End of Chapter 2)