still-damp commune clothes into a plastic bag, then into one of the Rescue Mission bags. Finally, as the children conked out again, Noah’s daughter-in-law transformed Melinda’s face with dark makeup and bright red lipstick (with Chapstick underneath to help heal the swelling).
After that, SueAnn gave her a rapid-fire review course in beginning Spanish: si, señor, and the rest, most of which Melinda remembered from high school—thank God! Even though her pronunciation was lousy.
Finally, Pete’s wife looked at her watch and yawned. “Good heavens, it’s past midnight. We’d better get some sleep ourselves before those chickens up on top wake up and start cackling their heads off for breakfast.”
Fully dressed, the weary adults found some empty seats, turned off the lights, and crashed for the night. Melinda was so wrought up over everything, she thought she would never get to sleep. But suddenly she woke in terror. What a horrible nightmare! She’d dreamed the Prophet and his men were outside pounding on the bus door and—
She sat up and rubbed her eyes. No, she wasn’t dreaming.
Dear God! That pounding was real!
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