Sheriff Adam Thompson stepped out of his front porch to find his neighbors, the Flints, huddled around their car, holding hands. Pastor Flint was speaking aloud praying for a safe trip. Sheriff Thompson shook his head, and took the mail out of the mailbox. In it lay an invitation to a block party-picnic held by the Flints.
***
That Saturday, Sheriff Thompson asked, “Mark, I know your family’s big on faith, but mine lacks a little. Can I borrow some?”
Pastor Flint handed him a bottle of Budweiser, “Enjoy.”
He looked over at Elise, their son Joey, and their daughter Mary. He turned back to Adam, “I have a lovely wife, but I also have a confused daughter and an adopted son. Do you think we have it all put together? No.” Flint mumbled on as Joey pulled a t-shirt out of one of the tie-dye bins. He set his next to the other kids’ and went to play soccer with the other boys.
Adrianne sat in the shade, surveying the scene. Elise patted her on the back and asked her to help set out the sandwiches. Mary was left alone on the white picnic blanket, with the silverware. She grabbed the bread knife, and brought it to her neck. No, that would be too gruesome. She put it down and went inside to help with her mother.
An hour later, she was alone again, and squirting blood from her right arm. Her left hand still clutched the bread knife.
Sheriff Thompson looked over. Without even taking another breath, he grabbed a plain shirt off the tie-dye table and tied it above her wrist. He pulled off his cell phone and tossed it to Adrianne, who called for help while he held Mary’s arm, applying pressure but not enough to break the bone.
***
Mary spent several days in the hospital, but came out in perfect health. She died ten months later, hit by a car while crossing the street.
Sheriff Thompson arrived at the scene before the ambulance. Upon seeing her body, he knelt down and blessed himself.
