Heaven's Gate Bridge seven

Heaven’s Gate seven

Good Friday began with a slight chill to the air. The Timothy was outside early with Buddy. Buddy did not like being alone during the night so Timothy and William snuck downstairs to let him out and to give him an old shirt with Timothy’s scent on it to lie next to. After a few minutes and a couple of bites of bread, Buddy seemed comfortable enough to sleep. As the boys were going through the kitchen, Catherine came down so the boys let her look at Buddy and pet him also.

“I can’t wait for Harriet to see Buddy too. She is still weak and but feeling a little better. I guess the good news of a new puppy helped her to forget the measles for a while.” remarked Catherine as she gave one final scratch to a spot on her arm.

The children sat still for a moment and looked at the little puppy as he tugged at the shirt. Outside, crickets chirped and an owl hooted. There was soft moonlight shining in the backyard. On the screen door, bugs crawled up to the top to try to get into the house. William gave Buddy one last pet on his soft fur. The muddy swamp smell had been replaced by the soap that Timothy had on the rag that he used to clean his new friend.

The children were walking through the kitchen as they heard the milk delivery man come to their house to leave the bottles that their mother had requested. She was a little mad at the man the last time because she had requested four bottles of milk and one bottle of cream and only got three bottles of milk. In her discussion with their father, mother had recommended the possibility of getting someone other than Patrick to deliver their milk. Her statement was “If Patrick cannot count the right number, he should not deliver the milk.”

Of course their father agreed and promised to talk to the boss in the company the very next day. The children did not know Patrick but they did know his little boy Randall. He was the best marble player in Timothy’s class and seemed honest enough.

“Hey let’s wait and see if Patrick puts four bottles at our door.” suggested William. Father told mother that he had talked personally to Mr. Buckman and that the order for the next time was free if there was a mistake.

The children watched as the man walked up to their neighbor’s house with a small limp, to put down two bottles. To the children’s surprise, Patrick Harris was not delivering the milk. It was being delivered by a new man that they did not know. The man pulled a little paper out of his pocket to recheck the address and the number of bottles. He put a check on the paper and returned to his vehicle. Theirs was the next house.

The man walked up to their door. He stepped on a loose board that made a small squeak. He pulled out his little list first to check it and removed four bottles of milk and one bottle of cream at their door. He put the empty bottles in his carrier and returned to his vehicle and left. The house next to theirs went out of town for the holiday and he had a few more deliveries down the street. After that the man could celebrate this holiday with his wife and children.

The milk truck finally was so far down the street that it was hard to see. However the next sound caught the attention of the children. Catherine had already gone upstairs. The boys wanted one last peek at Buddy so they were walking towards the kitchen when they heard a board squeak on the front porch. They raced to the window to see a small figure picking up the milk and hurrying out the yard. Someone was stealing their milk. It was hard to see all of the facial figures since the moon did not light up the porch, but they could have sworn it looked like Billy. Timothy opened the window and started to call Billy’s name. The figure did not turn around but ran to a bicycle and hop on and ride away. William was trying to open the door but he could not get the key in without a light. He did not want to wake his parents up.

Timothy ran to the door to see if William got it open. “You should have been faster. He got away.”

“I can’t help it! I can’t see in the dark!” he said as he put the key back on the hook. “Did you see who it was?” he asked using a louder voice.

“Did you see who?” asked father. He was in his bathrobe and slippers. He walked down stairs and turned on the lights.

“The person who stole our milk.” said William. “Timothy and I were checking on Buddy and saw the man deliver the milk. Then before we went upstairs, we saw someone come to our porch and steal our milk. I tried to open the door, but was too late.” he answered as he pointed to the lock at the door.

“A thief eh. Well that answers a mystery. And it looks like Patrick was telling the truth. I sure will apologize to him tomorrow.” said father as he checked the door and patted the boys on the head.

“It wasn’t Patrick who delivered the milk. It was a different person..” said Timothy. This man was shorter and had a small limp. He also used a little piece of paper to check off the delivery.”

“It looks like you two were down here more than just a little time.”

“We’re sorry. We just lost track of time.”

“Honey, is everything alright?” asked Frances. “Who is that you are talking to?” she added as her head looked around the doorway.

“We are okay. They boys were checking on Buddy and saw our milk being delivered. I’ll tell you the rest when I go back up. Go back to bed.” he said in his most reassuring voice.

“Boys I’ll take care of everything on Monday. The milk company’s office will probably be closed until after Easter. But the next time something like this happens, you must call me. I do want to get to the bottom of this.” he said as he pointed for them to go upstairs.

The boys shook their heads to accept their fathers orders and walked upstairs. Mr. Miller decided to get the three bottles that were there now so that no other milk would be stolen. He looked up and down the street as far as he could see. The moon was almost in the west and the stars were very dim. The sky was cloudless. Only one other house had a light on at almost the end. The newspaper had not been delivered yet. It would come soon. If he was lucky, Frances would not want to talk and he would get an hour of sleep before he had to get up and go to the office to check on things. He was thankful that he had made this a holiday for his staff. Tomorrow would be busy enough.