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Show 8 me for sun-tea while her babies napped and asked about my thoughts, and so forth, and I asked hers, too. One day the middle of June we were extrapolating scripture when she got solemn and sat the books away and said she wasn't feeling the spirit. She said she didn't feel the spirit much these days and asked if I thought bad of her. I'd suspected as much for a while but couldn't think bad of her for all the world. She put her hands over her eyes and said, "Oh, but you don't know what I've done!" And she was up running to the house. Came back all nervous giggles with a black gallon garbage bag. She dumped it out on the sun porch and stood over it like a triumph. "This is all stuff I've stolen!" she gasped. It was good as Christmas. Dolls, clothes, movies, CDs, tools, furniture polish, a fancy cigarette lighter, high heeled shoes, cheep jewelry, some nice cuff-links, a set of oven mitts, my Uncle Boss' personally engraved pen set, and all manner of things-even a Bible. I said, "You stole all this?" "This isn't even all of it! I've got more! Bags and bags of it in the garage," she pointed, "Some from people's houses, some from department stores, hardware stores, gas stations, all kinds of places. It's trickier if the store has theft detection devices, but I discovered ways around that, and mostly it's the easiest thing in the world. They never even suspect me! Nice young woman with two kids and dressed like I am-why steal anything if I can buy it? And that's what you do, you always buy something!" "This is a problem you got. I read about this kind of thing." "No, I'm not a kleptomaniac. They're compelled to steal even though they don't want to, they feel bad about it. It makes me feel good!" |
