The Mysterious Note

About a month ago, I received a note in my mailbox. It had no envelope but was hand-written on a folded piece of simple parchment paper. My name was printed on the front, with capital letters where there should have been lower-case letters, and lower-case where there should have been caps. Inside the folded paper were pictures, odd pictures totally unrelated to the words, drawn next to some of the demands. On the back was a black handprint with the words, Foot Print, above it. So strange that something like this would end up in MY mailbox. I never mentioned it to anyone, thinking it was a silly prank. But…I couldn't get the words out of my mind. The demands were almost psychotic in nature.

At first I thought it was one of the kids from down the road who walks by with his dogs and a couple of siblings, every day. I had seen them stopping by the mailbox, on several occasions, while their dogs did their duty. They seemed like really great kids though. When one stopped, they all stopped. One held the dogs, another picked up the residue left by their pets. Surely it wasn't one of them. I laid the note aside.

Last week, another one showed up in our mailbox. Was it now time to get a bit worried about this? The note said, "If you ignore me, it will only get worse."

There was no contact information on the note. No phone number, address, email, FB link…nothing. Just threats. How was I to respond? I didn't want to tell my husband, nor my girls. Why should they have to carry this load, when there were no clues as to how it had arrived? I couldn't really take it to the police. What if it was just a prank? I didn't want to give them the last laugh, so…I took matters into my own hands.

Knowing our mailman's routine, I waited until the mail usually arrives on any given day, and then put my own note in the mailbox. I threw the ball back into their court, making sure the note was written with the same misprinted words as they used. Spelling my name exactly the way they did, and laying out demands bigger than theirs, gave me a sense of power. Yes, power. Because now, they would think they were dealing with someone on their own uneducated, and/or, psychotic level. And…it was worded in such a way that they would even question it's authenticity, much like I did. Since it was time for me to head to work, I double locked the doors to our house, and left. I would check the box when I got home late the evening of the 18th.

The 18th came and went, with no more contact. The mailbox lay silent for 2 more days. Then, just yesterday, a reply comes…

Okay…it's your turn. How should this story end?

Here I wait...in Mary's World.
P.S.
Just so you know I'm not really a psycho…I'm using the gift of "642 Things To Write About" book, as inspiration to write. This topic just happened to be the next one up. So…did I have you worried? Or did you know it was fake from the beginning?

My Long-Lost Friend

Her name was (is?) Emma Witherspoon. Many years ago…let's say 42-43, I lived in Madison, Tennessee. A suburb of Nashville, it provided me safe haven from an out-of-control wife beater, who I left back in Oklahoma. There, I met a wonderful young lady. At the time she was married to a police officer, and we became friends.

Emma was as close a friend as I ever had in those days. There was one other gal, Faye, something-or-other, but she couldn't really be called a friend. We went to breakfast some mornings after late hours at our place of employment…but that was about it. Emma, was a true friend. So kind and understanding. She had a listening ear and a tender heart. We shared many stories and went to places together.

I found it rather strange that she came from the same type of family I did. Her dad was a minister,  like mine was. She had many of the same struggles that I did as a child. Maybe that is why we connected so quickly. I loved her so much! And now, I can't find her. 

The last time we connected was somewhere around 1975…maybe a little later. I just can't remember the exact time frame it was when I received a middle-of-the-night call from her. She was crying, wanting…needing, to talk. Her marriage was on the rocks and she had to move away. During that call, we exchanged addresses, and I was able to send her a photo of our little family. Linds and Megs were very small at the time. Linds was almost 3 and Meg had just turned 1…or around that age. So, maybe the year was closer to 1985. I surely don't remember. She wrote back that she had shown the photo to others I had worked closely with, that she loved the picture and wish her life had gone the path of mine.

The years have taken a lot of the memories of those days, away from me. Those were dark days in my life and I think maybe they should not be brought up again. But, what I'd give to see Emma and reconnect. Just to see where her journey took her. And to ask if she is now, as happy as I am.

I've tried, over the years, to find her. And I've always failed. I've done Google searches most recently, but still come up empty handed. If I had a picture of her, I'd share it on Facebook…just to see what it would produce. I've done searches there, as well. Even messaged a gal that looked a lot like her, thinking it might be her daughter...but it wasn't her.

Where is my friend???

I'll keep looking, while bidding my time here…in Mary's World