Lunch on the Sabbath

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Humor  |  House: Booksie Classic
A young couple, outstanding members of the church community, discuss missing neighborhood children over lunch with a local police man. Based on a challenge where someone threw out a first line for us to finish. The result was a testament to my genius. Also published by my friends at

Submitted: March 23, 2007

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Submitted: March 23, 2007



Lunch on the Sabbath

By Matt Kilmartin



"I don't want to have any more kids."

"Good idea, I'm pretty full myself." Phillip pulled back the plate he was offering his wife, Georgia. "It was very tasty by the way."

"It was," she replied after a sip of red wine, "but there was just too much of it. I mean, who would have thought a nine year old boy would be so meaty?"

Phillip piled the last of the baby red potatoes and mixed greens onto the serving dish with the rest of the meat. He stood from his seat and walked to the kitchen counter where he began to wrap it. "There really is a lot left over, dear," said Phil as he stretched cling wrap over the uneaten portion. "Maybe we can heat the rest up for lunch tomorrow."

Georgia sat at the table absently picking her teeth with a fingernail. Giving her tooth a final suck and accepting defeat she said, "I can make us something. We still have plenty of gravy left. Maybe I can whip up some open-faced sandwiches."

"I think that'll do," said Phil, smiling as he cleared a spot in the refrigerator for the large dish. Phillip closed the door and straitened up. "I think I'll clean out the van before bed tonight."

"All right, if you must, dear," said Georgia as she would "boys will be boys." "Just don't keep me waiting up for you all night."

He walked over to where his wife sat and kissed her on her dark hair. "Of course not, dear, of course not," he said. "But I really should get the tarp out of the van and clean it up a bit." He stretched, his arms way above his head and added "My, my, sure does feel nice to not have to get up for work tomorrow."

Georgia jabbed him in his stomach with one red fingernail. "Hey, mister, don't forget we have mass at twelve noon tomorrow."

"Yea, I haven't forgotten," he said waving her off. "It's just not the same when you get up and do something you want to do rather than something you have to, you know?"

"Yea, I know, dear." As her husband walked away she grabbed the front of his blue, button down shirt and pulled him down for a kiss. "Just don't stay out there tinkering too long, ok?"

He ran a hand through her hair. "Of course not." He kissed her again and then went outside to clean the van.


"...and the dress Mrs. Parker was wearing was just lovely, don't you think?" said Georgia as her and her husband walked into their kitchen that Sunday afternoon.

"Yes dear," said Phillip, loosening his tie.

She opened to door to the refrigerator and pulled out the serving dish which housed the uneaten meat from the night before. Holding the dish in one hand and gesturing with the other she added "How she can afford to dress like that while her husband looks for work is beyond me."

"Mm hmm."

As Georgia busied herself on the kitchen counter with the contents of last night's dinner, Phillip walked up behind her and kissed her on the neck. She giggled and said "What is it about a sermon that always gets you so darned frisky?" As she squirmed in his grasp Phil reached around and pulled a piece of meat out off the roast. Georgia slapped his hand as he pulled it away. "Phillip Baker," she said, "don't you start picking at this poor boy while I'm trying to make you a nice lunch. You'll ruin your appetite!"

"Sorry, dear," he said around the piece of food he manage to get past her. "Just a bit to tide me over. Growing boys and the like."

"Well you get out of my way then!" she said slapping him on the rear. "Go see if your game is on."

Phillip left the kitchen and walked into the spacious living room of their comfortable ranch style home. It only took him seconds to park himself on the plush couch and find the game he wanted on television, but no sooner than he made himself totally comfortable the doorbell rang. "Can you get that dear?" yelled Georgia from the kitchen. Phil grunted as he stood and walked to the front door.

He opened to door to the sight of a man in a brown uniform, badge adorning the front of his neatly pressed shirt. His face was one of foreboding, chiseled features, those that would belong to man whom most feared, though Phillip knew better than that. "Why Officer Frazier," said Phil smiling and sharing a firm handshake with the visitor. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Though I am here on business, Phil," said a smiling Frazier, "I have to insist you call me Dave."

"Sure thing then, Dave," said Phil clapping him once on the shoulder with his free hand. "Where are my manners? Come in, come in."

"Thank you, Phillip," said Officer Dave Frazier. He walked into the living room and took off his hat. "My my, what is that delightful smell? That wouldn't be the famous cuisine of Georgia Baker, now will it?"

"Who was at the door, dear?" said Georgia from the other room.

"Officer - sorry, Dave Frazier is here," he yelled back to her.

Georgia came smiling into the room. "Why Officer Frazier, what a pleasant surprise!"

"Now, Georgia," he said sternly, "I just got through telling your husband to call me Dave, now don't make me go through it all again with you."

"Ok, Dave," she said with a giggle. "You know, I hate to see a nice Christian man like you out on the job on a beautiful Sunday afternoon like this. We missed you at the service today."

"Sorry to say, Mrs. Baker," said Dave Frazier, "that the kind of people I deal with aren't the type to honor the Sabbath." His manner had suddenly changed to a very formal tone. "Listen, I hate to bother you nice folks with something like this, but... Listen, do you have a minute, maybe we can sit down?"

"Well we were just about to sit down to lunch," said Georgia. "You're more than welcome to join us."

Frazier smiled politely. "No, no, I couldn't possibly impose on you like that."

"Nonsense," said Phil clapping him on the shoulder again. "We're just heating up some leftovers is all. There's more than plenty to go around. Waste not and all that."

"Well in that case I guess I'd be a fool to pass up some good home cookin'," said Frazier. "I suppose we can talk over lunch."

"Wonderful," said Georgia with a grin. "It won't be much longer, I'll just go make a third plate for our guest." She walked ahead of them into the kitchen.

"Fine wife like that, Baker, good job like yours," Frazier said, "and people'll start to wonder why you two haven't considered having a few kids."

"Well, having a kid is important to us," he said, "but there's no point in rushing into it. I mean, something like that you need to take your time on, let it simmer for a while. You know what I mean."

Frazier put a fatherly hand on Phillip's shoulder. "Yea, yea, I know exactly what you mean."

As they sat down at the kitchen table Georgia placed a plate in front of both of them. "Smells great, darlin'," said Frazier as he examined the steaming plate. "What did you say this was?"

"Just a roast the missus cooked up last night," said Phillip as his wife joined the table. "But there was too much, so we decided to save the rest for lunch today."

"Looks delicious," said Frazier as he began to cut into the meat.

"Thank you, David but it's really nothing," she said. As Frazier chewed his first mouthful of the succulent, flavorful meat she asked, "If you don't mind me asking, what is that you wanted to speak to us about?"

Wiping his mouth on a napkin, Frazier said, "It's a terrible thing really. I hate to have to come down here and bother you nice folks about it..."

"What is it?" Phillip asked concerned. "Are we in some kind of danger?"

"Oh no, nothing like that," said Frazier through another half-eaten bite. He swallowed and said, "It's just that a kid from the school over on Jones Hill went missing a couple of days ago."

"Oh my," said Georgia, "that's awful!"

"Yea, it's a real shame to see it happen in your own backyard like that," said Frazier.

Phillip reached over and held his wife's hand. "Do you have any idea who could have done it, Officer?"

"No, we have no leads at the time, which is what brings me here today, Phil." Frazier paused and took a breath as if what he had to say next pained him. "Some people saw a van parked around there a few days before and then again the day the boy went missing. The thing is it was a van just like the one you have parked in that garage of yours."

Phil let out a morbid laugh. "But surely you can't... I mean to say, even if I wanted to, that van doesn't run, I mean it hasn't in..."

"I know, Phil," said Frazier cutting him off. "I just have to come and check it out is all. Talk to you so that we can cross you off as a suspect."

"Well I haven't," said Phil. "And Georgia will tell you..."

"Jesus, I know you haven't," interrupted Frazier again. "It's just a formality. Nobody thinks you've done anything and God knows that I certainly don't."

"I'm sorry," said Phil. "This is just such a shock."

"That poor boy," muttered Georgia. "And what his parents must be going through!"

"What really bothers me," said Frazier as he cut into his lunch, "is what that boy's probably going through right at this moment."

"What do you mean?" asked Georgia.

"Just that this type of person," said Frazier, "you know... Well, Hell, he can be doing anything to that boy." He took a bite, chewed and swallowed. Gesturing with his knife he added, "Some of these kids come back with stories of the things they went through, the things they have to tell us about it. It's just gruesome, young boys and girls being raped and the like..."

Georgia's knife and fork met with clatter as they fell to her plate. She said "Oh God!" and quickly looked away from the others, her hands on her mouth. Phil reached over to her and put a loving hand on her shoulder.

"Gee, I'm awful sorry, ma'am," said Frazier. "It's just that getting mixed up in something like this, I can't help..."

"No, it's ok," she said turning back to him with a vague hint of tears in her eyes. "It's just a bit much to think of. I mean to a child!"

"I know, darlin'," said Frazier. "It is a damn shame, and I apologize if I misspoke."

They finished their meal with not much more noise than occasional small talk and the clinking of utensils. Finishing a last bite Frazier "Mm mm, that sure was tasty, Georgia."

"Why thank you Officer," she said with a slight blush. "It really was something that I just threw together."

He took a drink of iced tea. "And you say that it was at one point a pot roast?"

"Yes it was," said Phillip, "and a very fine piece of meat. Almost tasted like it wasn't much more than veal. Must have been a very young creature I'd imagine. Perfect."

"I'd say," said Frazier.

"Do you have much more to do today, David?" asked Georgia.

"Just talk to a few more people I suppose," he said, "see what we can find out. Then I suppose I'll head over to H.Q. to get changed, grab a burger or something..."

"Oh don't you dare!" exclaimed Georgia.

"Excuse me?" asked a confused Frazier.

"Don't you dare stop at some lousy burger joint," she explained. "You come right back here and have dinner with us!"

"No, I really couldn't impose on you nice folks twice in the same day."

"It's really nothing," added Phil.

"I really, really couldn't."

"Well, ok," said Georgia giving in, "but at least let me make you plate."

"No, I don't think I could possible..."

"We really have too much, Officer," said Phil. "You'd be doing us a favor to take a plate off our hands. Sitting here it's just going to go to waste."

"Well, I'd hate to see such a fine a roast go to trash..."

"All right," said Georgia with a smile, "I'll make it up for you before you go."

"While you do that, Georgia," said Frazier, "I wonder if you won't mind me borrowing this man of yours to take a look at that van with me." Georgia gave a worried look to her husband. "Just routine, darlin', don't you worry about a thing."

Phil walked over to his wife while Frazier went out the side door into the garage. He kissed her on the check and softly said "Don't worry." He walked through the open door to the garage where Officer Frazier was already walking around the van looking at it from top to bottom.

"You know, Baker, if you want I can come back another time with a warrant."

"Don't be silly," said Phil.

"No plates?" he asked.

"No," answered Phillip. "Hasn't been registered for years. Like I said, I don't drive it. Just a relic from my wild and youthful days I'm afraid."

Frazier ran a hand across it's side, leaving four trails in the dust. "You don't mind if I take a look inside, do you?"

"No, of course not," said Phil, pulling the keys off a nail in the wall. He handed them to the officer who opened the door to let himself into the back of the van. In the noise and clatter of this activity Phil reached behind him and found, on a shelf, a tire iron he kept there.

"Mind if I start ‘er up?" shouted Frazier from within.

"Be my guest if you can," Phil shouted back as he stepped up into the van. He saw Frazier was in the front seat now, about to place the key in the ignition. Phillip felt a surge a fear and quickly looked over at Officer Frazier who was turning the key to no avail. His grip tightened on the tire iron.

The ignition to the disabled engine clicked a few last times. "Well, I hate to tell you this, Baker," yelled Frazier from the cab, "but this sonuvabitch ain't driving anywhere anytime soon."

"No, I don't think it will," said Phil who was backing out of the van. "Hasn't run in ages." He hopped to the floor of the garage and placed the tire iron back on the shelf where it could easily be reached again. "Should probably think of junking the damn thing."

"Listen, Phil," said Frazier as he stepped out of the van. "It's only a routine check, I don't mean to imply..."

"No," said Phil quickly, "don't you worry about it. You're just doing your job. And besides, the wife and I enjoy the company."

"Well, I'd be lying if I'd said I didn't enjoy it myself."

"Yea," said Phil, "she really is quite a cook, that Georgia."

"And quite the woman if I may say so." But Frazier didn't see him smile as Phillip led the way back into the house.

As he walked into the kitchen he saw his wife leaning her back against the counter with both hands on it. "So what shall I make us for dinner tonight, Mr. Baker?" she asked with a smile.

Hearing Officer Frazier enter the room behind him Phil said, "Maybe boil up some of that whole wheat pasta." A look of disappointment flashed across Georgia's face but quickly left it. He added, "Some oil and garlic in that would be nice. And I'll run out to the market and get a loaf of Italian bread, make us up some garlic bread."

"I'd love to stay and talk some more, but I really must be back to work," said Frazier as he walked up next to Phil.

"You're welcome to stay and watch some of the game if you like," said Phillip turning to the man on his left.

"Now, Phillip," said Georgia, "Officer Frazier- sorry, I mean David has important work to do, don't you, David?"

"Sorry to say that I do, ma'am," he said and then to Phil "maybe another time, though."

"Of course," said Phil smiling and shaking the man's hand again.

"Ma'am," he added as he placed his hat back on his head and turned to leave.

"Now wait just a second," said Georgia. "I don't want you to go without your plate."

"Well thank you, darlin'," said Frazier accepting a dinner plate wrapped in aluminum foil, "that is awful nice of you."

"I wrapped that in foil," she said, "so you just heat up the oven and let it sit in there for a little bit, should warm it right up. Don't put it in the microwave; you'll dry the meat out. There's some meat and gravy, baby red potatoes and mixed greens in there for you."

"You really are an angel sent down, Georgia Baker," said Frazier to a blushing woman.

Officer Frazier walked to his car as Phillip and Georgia Baker watched from their front doorway, Phil's arm around his lovely wife's shoulder. "He really is a nice man," said Georgia as Frazier waved from his car and drove off.

"Yea," said Phil. "It's nice to know there's a man who will make sure that when it's our kids out there they'll be safe."

© Copyright 2019 Matt Kilmartin. All rights reserved.

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