By the time they did last call none of us were sober. I have said this before we were young women making poor choices. We were lucky to make it home in one piece that night. Natalie dropped Debbie off first and then was taking me home. I was sober enough to know Natalie had no business driving any further that night. It took some work on my part, but I convinced her to spend the night with me. Part of me wanted her to stay because I wanted her with me and part of me was worried she wouldn't make it home in one piece.
I got Natalie past my parents bedroom and put her in my twin sized bed. I could tell something was wrong and I kept trying to to let Natalie know it was okay. I remember sitting next to her on the bed in the dark with my arm around her. She wanted to talk and I knew I needed to listen to her. After what seemed like an eternity she told me some of the things bothering her. With her mind a little settled she finally laid down and went to sleep. Once I thought she was asleep, I kissed her forehead and whispered, "Good night sweet prince," and went to lay on a palette I had made for myself on the floor of my bedroom.
|The Stanton Windmill on Fire|
One of the weirdest things about that night is The Windmill caught on fire sometime within the next year. I tried to find a photograph of the building and only found one with it on fire. I like to think it was all that wild energy we spent there that night just bounced around until it burned that building down.