When I first met Mr. Zeller, I was in Reese’s basement. He was giving us premarital counseling. Telling us what behaviors were appropriate, what were morally questionable, giving his reason-to-believes. The guy kinda bugged me, but he seemed okay. And I was a good listener, which made him smile ’til he was squinting.
We decided to live in Oregon after the wedding, but I was a good listener. Mr. Zeller wanted to share his opinions, his reason-to-believes.
We settled on Idaho.
Idaho kinda bugged me, but it was okay. The only thing I disliked about it was the fact that the Zellers lived there. And my family didn’t—that part bugged me too. But I refused to be unhappy. That was one thing Mr. Zeller couldn’t talk me out of, as hard as he tried.
Things became strange.
Mr. Zeller didn’t like it that I wanted to study the Bible with Reese, and not with him or his wife. He didn’t like the way I spent time with Reese’s family. He didn’t like Reese’s long hair. He had reason-to-believes.
I misplaced my listening skills one day. Zeller bugged me. His reason-to-believes bugged me. His wife bugged me. I was bugged.
Walter came for a visit, and we were all so glad to see him. But not Zeller. He had a few reason-to-believes regarding Walter. His wife did too. The Zellers bugged me.
We rode in Walter’s motorhome anyway. Screw Zeller and his reason-to-believes.
I can only imagine, and likely not very well, what that time must have been like.
To be honest, I can barely imagine–or remember. I’ve put that so far behind me it’s a mirage on the horizon. And for that I am eternally grateful.
The ending, however, is still as vivid as if it had happened yesterday. That triumphant motorhome trip was awesome. Poor Walter, rest his soul–he is a deeply missed man. I’d never met the guy, then spent eleven days in his motorhome and never saw him again. He was an oasis in a very dry time.
A God-send. And I mean that quite literally.
I agree.
I want to hear more about the motorhome trip.
That is forthcoming, I assure you.
That was a bad time for you. That guy was (and I’m sure still is) a creep. Ditto for his wife, eh? Wayne shoulda kabornkled him on the snoot. Or maybe I shoulda, but I was far away.
I guess he did pretty much that, only without violence. I confess, a little violence would have made me grin.
I confess, said violence would have made me grin as well. A little much, perhaps.
Ah, I am glad it is over and done with, and even happier to know that the rest of his prey escaped unharmed (relatively).