Hey!  I’m not home.  I am on a scary road trip!  And I brought you with me.   I wanted to follow Sal’s tracks in person… I wanted you to get a flavor for how it all went down, and my first stop is the hotel….and it’s so frightening and scary, I’m seeing things! I hope that “thing” isn’t room service. They gave me room 429…NOT 429!!!

(Isn’t that a movie or an omen or the name of this guy here?)

 

But first off, for the record I look like an ol’ battle ax.  I’ve been up since the wee hours of dawn. Dux got his cast off today.  BUT (there’s always a but in our family.)  Oh boy, well, first we had to get the cast sawed off, then they made the mistake of giving me the saw-off cast.  So I was kinda twiddling it around, it was like having a third arm.  Well, then they sent us downstairs to have his arm X-rayed. 

Unfortunately, the girl helping us was not very nice, and she should have probably been working at some place like a tire shop or where they repair tractor engines.   She was curt and short with us. (I’m not dissing tractor repairmen)  So just to be “funny,” when she turned around in the other direction, I took the cast and pretended to hit her over the head.  (She was never in danger, I was across the counter)  I was just trying to make Dux laugh.  Apparently she saw us in her rear-view mirror….we waited for the X-ray, and we waited and we waited….

People came and went. One old guy signed in, waited, had a BRAIN SCAN and left, and we were still waiting….I guess you would call her pay back “passive aggressive” behavior.  The whole waiting room flipped at least three times, and we were still waiting….moral of the story:  Don’t hit the head that feeds you.  So needless to say, she won.  Dux had an orthodontic appointment to work on his beak, and we had to cancel cuz of ol’ tractor wheels. 

I didn’t get on the road to the hotel until late, and when I arrived at this very scary place, it was dark out.  And I was alone. And it was creepy. 

Here’s one of my many points:  You know when you book a place, and it looks way better than it is?  Well, this is what I thought I was getting….(They didn’t actually post this picture, but this is what I imagined after reading,  “Handsome wrought iron staircase from years gone by”…)

 

Hmm,  how handsome is this?

Yeah, a place where killers play. 

Just to prove I was really there, I added my hand in the picture of Scary Room 429.  (Anyone that knows me will recognize my rugged ‘blue collar’ hard-working sewer-scrubbing hands)

 

 

How many people do you think have been hurled over this railing? Ten? Twenty?  Who knows.  You must be wondering why, why, why did the crazy lady go alone to the scary hotel???

Good question.  This was the hotel Sal came to for a “sabbatical,” it was more like for his breakdown, but sabbatical sounds better.          

Read on, friend.

When Mama returned to work the next morning, she was shocked to find out the door to the church office was unlocked.  When she entered, she saw that it appeared exactly as it had when she had grabbed her purse and left after Sal’s outburst.  All the lights were still on, the answering machine blinked red full of messages, and Sal’s door was opened revealing an empty office. 

She saw the remnants of a rage-induced fit where the red ceramic potted plant had been kicked and dirt lay scattered all over the carpet.  A hole in the door stared back at her shocked face.  Mama trembled as she sat down.  She realized that Sal had abruptly left after she had and had never returned.  Mama set about cleaning up the mess and vacuuming. She straightened the picture, called the custodian to repair the fist hole in the wall and sat down to listen to the messages.  A wave of disbelief washed over her as she heard the familiar voices of different board members calling in urgently saying that Sal had called them and was rambling like a madman.

Mama’s first call was to Sal’s home. Sal’s wife picked up and through tears told of the harrowing last 15 hours.  Sal had burst through their back kitchen door with wild eyes like a madman.  He was absolutely furious and was ranting on and on about Sammy and God.

 

  

He grabbed their kitchen phone and dialed many of the board members at their homes.  His eyes were crazed and his breathing was harsh.  Alli tried to ask him to explain what happened, but he pushed her away, and then accused her of being part of the problem.  He raged all night, pacing and cussing and punching the air.  The phone calls started pouring in, but in his out-of-control rage, he would pick up the receiver and slam it back down. 

“Gossips, that’s all they are!  They want to ruin me!” he vented.

Alli was at a complete loss for what to do.  She flinched as he strutted toward her, and he mocked her for it.  She went into the bedroom to call Sammy to find out what had happened, and when Sal appeared at the door and saw her on the phone, he grabbed it out of her hands and pushed her on the bed.  Beginning to yell in the phone, he noticed that Sammy had hung up. 

Anger flushed his soul again, and he pulled the phone cord out of the wall and threw it against the wall.  Alli lay crumpled on the bed, weeping. And he raged all night.  She was forbidden to leave the house, and she stayed in her room.  By the time the dawn light fell on the floor, Sal was finally asleep, with an empty bottle next to him.

Sal didn’t show up for work the rest of the week. Mama sat at her desk and tried to do damage control with all the worried parishioners that were inundating her.  But Mama knew the truth, she may be the only one besides Sammy and Sal, but she knew.  God had lifted his hand from Sal and Sal knew it. Mama thought of poor, poor Alli. She probably didn’t have a clue of what triggered her husband to turn into a complete lunatic, and she was trapped at home with him.  Mama scheduled a guest speaker to stand in on Sunday.

The next week as Mama sat in the church office alone, wondering what to do, Glen, a board member, came in and sat down across from Mama’s desk.  He got straight to the point, Sal needed a sabbatical, he was losing it.  Mama could tell from Glen’s worried furrowed brow, he didn’t know what she knew.  He wanted  funds to send Sal out of town, to a place he could rest and regain his composure.  It appeared Sal was having a nervous breakdown.  Mama made the arrangements, and Sal left that afternoon. Several board members went with him and stayed in adjoining rooms.  That week at that hotel, things seemed to take a turn for the worst.  Sal was losing his grip.

Oh boy….now do you see why I had to go to that hotel?  Yes, you guessed it, Sal stayed in room 435….which is exactly why I stayed in 429.  I did NOT want to stay in the room he had been in.  I really wanted to get a feel for the place, but it was heart-pounding scary. I walked through the quiet carpeted halls and the only thing I could hear was my heart skipping every other beat…and my stupid text alert that sounds like Donald Duck which really wrecked the whole “scariness” that was happening. 

The hotel was old and grand at one time with a “smoking” room and a “ballroom.” Since I don’t smoke or play basketball, I ended up hanging out in my closet.  Wouldn’t you do the same if SHE was staring at you?  If I stared at her long enough it seemed like she was talking to me.  I was afraid she would start spitting out stuff about Sal.  It was okay, I had a really big closet.

 

So what did I learn about my trip to Sal’s insane asylum?  If I’m ever depressed or delusional, I think I”ll try Disneyland.  I’ll pass on the creepy talking statutes.

Mama’s diary continues on with Sal’s sabbatical.  He was so unsettled that the poor board members who were there were at their wits’ end.  They called a local church asking if they had anybody available to come over to the hotel from their worship team.

A young man showed up at Sal’s room and was asked to play his guitar and sing.  It seemed that this finally gave tormented Sal a reprieve, and he was able to fall asleep.  But the next day, his torment was back and the musician, Dave, was summoned back again.  His music and soothing voice seemed to be the only thing that would calm Sal.  So Dave was paid handsomely to sooth Sal during that week through his worship.

Sal returned to the office two weeks later.  Mama was aghast at his appearance.  He had lost at least 15 pounds and his hair was disheveled and unkempt.  He was quiet and stoic as he passed Mama’s desk and only slightly acknowledged her. Mama had such a heavy heart for Sal and the whole congregation that she left her desk and headed for the sanctuary. 

 

She fell to her knees and wept in prayer.   Her journal ended at that point abruptly with the scribbled words, “RIP behind Africa.” (I’ve wracked my brain trying to figure out what RIP behind Africa means.  If anyone has any ideas what it could mean, please leave a comment for me.)

My last night at that hotel, I came out of my closet and sat on the stairs.  I tried to imagine what it would be like to be there in such despair, to be a guest that was on the brink of madness.  The stately halls would reveal no secrets to me, though I knew they had heard and seen everything.  Then I realized it was better that some secrets were kept.  Sometimes there are no answers.  I could see in my mind’s eye the flustered men attending Pastor Sal, scurrying around trying to do anything possible to soothe him; hushed voices in the hall, gourmet dinners ordered in and then left untouched in the hall by the door, a flurry of energy to no avail.  I wondered what the staff must have thought.  And I imagined what the sound of the sweet music must have been if it was enough to settle a fretting soul.

I found out that Sal had been at that hotel for 10 days.  It took him a while to regain his composure, but over time he did.  He returned to service at the Shepherd’s Gate.  He refused to give up.  I guess he figured you can still have a church without God, lots of them do.  So the saga of Sal continues, this time without Sammy and also without God.

One gweat thing that happened while I was at the hotel, I had the BEST soup in the whole world!  The old German cook gave me the recipe!!!! I refuse to say it’s easy even though it is.  If you had a restaurant, this would be a best seller, guaranteed.  If not, as always, I’ll double your money.

BAKE POTATO SOUP                  

4 large baking potatoes (2 1/2 lbs)

1/4 cup butter

2/3 cup flour

6 cups lowfat milk

1 teas. salt

1 teas. pepper

2 Tblsp chopped chives (optional)

8 slices bacon, cooked & crumbled

1 cup shredded cheddar cheese

8 ounces sour cream

Rinse potatoes, prick with fork, microwave until done or cook in oven @ 400 for 1 hour or soft.  Cool. Cut into halves lengthwise, scoop out pulp, discard peels. Smash potatoes with masher, leave chunky

Melt butter on low heat, remove from heat.  Add flour, stir until smooth slowly adding milk.  Put back on medium heat stirring constantly until it becomes thick and bubbly.

Add pulp, salt, pepper, chives, bacon and cheese. Continue heating over low heat until well combined and hot and thick.  Stir in sour cream and serve!