From Sunset to Sunset

  CONTENT WARNING: Violence, Child abuse

  FROM SUNSET TO SUNSET

  Thorn Osgood

  Table of Contents

  Front Matter

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  About the Author

  From Sunset to Sunset by Thorn Osgood

  ©2022 by Thorn Osgood. All rights reserved.

  Published by Mind Wings Audio

  SAN: 859–0745

  Cover Art: Designs By Rachelle

  Smashwords Electronic Edition: April 2022

  ISBN 9781611146172

  Smashwords Edition, License Notes

  This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for you use only, then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This story was created entirely from the imagination of the author. The story and characters in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Chapter 1

  Colleen stood in her supervisor’s office doorway, waiting for an acknowledgment to enter. After a few seconds, she tapped on the metal door frame. The supervisor looked up from the papers on her desk.

  “Come in, Ms. Matthews. Please close the door and have a seat,” the supervisor said.

  Colleen did as she was told.

  The supervisor glanced at Colleen and back at the papers on her desk. She stacked the documents and put them aside.

  Colleen felt uneasy. She knew being called to the office was not a good thing, especially in midafternoon. Her shift ended at three, and it was about two forty-five.

  “Ms. Matthews, I’ve had you on the work schedule to work Saturdays on four different occasions, and each time you have refused to come in. And you’ve always refused to work after sunset on Fridays.”

  Colleen’s eyes met the supervisor’s, then she glanced away. “Yes, I don’t work from sunset Friday to sunset Saturday. That’s the Sabbath, God’s day.” Her religious beliefs forbade it unless the person was in the medical profession. “They work as volunteers without pay,” her mother had told her when she was young.

  “That may be, but we have a business to run. We expect our employees to work their schedules. Some of the other employees don’t want to work Sundays, but they do when they’re scheduled. By rotating our schedule, everyone has the opportunity to be off on a weekend.” The supervisor leaned back in her chair and looked fixedly at Colleen.

  The Civil Rights Act of 1964 prohibited employers from discriminating against individuals because of religious beliefs. But the exception clause regarding undue hardship on an employer and infringing on other employees—causing coworkers to carry the accommodated employee’s share of burdensome work—would surely be brought up in her situation. She never told a prospective employer about her religion, and the need for time off, before she was hired for fear she wouldn't get the job.

  She'd been completely open about it when she went for her first job out of high school and had not been hired because she could not work Friday nights and Saturdays. Her mind drifted to when her kids were younger and she was doing janitorial work—evening and nights. The church members had helped her out at first by babysitting Sam and Esther, but then the excuses began. She had promised herself that she would do everything she could, with God's help, to support her family financially without asking for favors.

  She focused on the supervisor, knowing what was coming next. She’d heard it before, many times.

  After several moments, the supervisor sat up and rested her arms on her desk. “I have to be fair with all my employees, and since you refuse to take your turn, I have no choice but to terminate your employment, effective today.”

  Colleen nodded. “I understand.” She forced a weak smile, stood, and left the office.

  Her job as a stock clerk at the discount store had only lasted six weeks. Prior to this job, she’d been sick with pneumonia and was out of work for three weeks. Her previous employer had replaced her after the second week.

  She needed to find somewhere to work where her religious beliefs would not be a problem. Being a Christian who worshiped on the seventh day of the week was tough at times, but her father’s and mother's families had been seventh-day worshippers for generations. There were numerous sermons about the experience she was having in keeping a job. She could hear the minister’s words as if a recorder played in her head. “As long as you’re doing what God wants you to do, he’ll take care of you.”

  Colleen pulled her old Ford into the tire-worn path in the yard beside the small white wood-framed house where she lived. She took the mail from the mailbox and went into the house. She scanned the kitchen and dining room, looking for her son.

  “Sam, you here?” she called out.

  There was no response as she flipped through the mail. A letter from the landlord caught her attention. She sat the rest of the mail on the table and opened the letter. After a few moments, she read aloud, “Your rent payments are two months in arrears. You have thirty days to pay in full or you will be evicted.”

  “Hey, Ma,” Sam said, coming in. He stretched his arms high above his head then slithered his tall lean body into a chair at the kitchen table. He ran his fingers through his dreadlocks as he glanced at her.

  “Hi, where were you?” She pursed her lips and frowned, then took a seat across the table from him.

  “I was taking a nap.” He studied his mother’s face. “What’s the matter?”

  “I got fired today,” she said, looking in his direction, then down at the table. Telling him the bad news wasn’t easy.

  He shook his head with a look of disgust. “Because you won’t work on the Sabbath, right?”

  “Yeah.” She knew he was all too familiar with the problem of holding down a minimum wage job without working Friday nights and Saturdays. “And I just got notice about the rent. The landlord says I need to be paid up in thirty days or we’re out.”

  “Yeah, I heard you reading the notice when I was coming down the hall. I have some money. It won’t cover three months’ rent, but it’ll help.”

  She smiled and said, “No. I want you to keep your money. You’re a young man now. You need to have some money in your pocket. Besides, you already help out with the groceries.” Sam was seventeen, and she knew he would want to do social activities once in a while. Maybe she was spoiling him a little, but she didn’t want him to go without some money in his pocket. Why should he always have to suffer because of her?

  “But Ma, what good is it if we get thrown out in the street?” He looked at her, seemingly searching her face for understanding.

  “Just hold it for now. I’ll see what else I can do.” She patted his hand and stood up from the table. Sam was a good son. He was a junior in high school, and she didn’t want him to be miserable the entire time he was in school. Next year he would be graduating, class of 1995, and she wanted him to be able to do all the senior activities that he could.

  “Okay. It’s time for me to go to work. See ya later.” He grabbed his portable radio off the table and left.

  At least the days are still long, and Sam can put in a few hours today. She watched as he walked quickly toward the bus stop.


  Ever since her husband had died, ten years before, they’d had rough times financially. Colleen did the best that she could, but she knew there was a limit to her abilities. The only reason she made more than Sam was that he worked part time. She lacked an education and had never excelled in academics, barely graduating from high school, but she was good with her hands.

  Esther, her daughter—class of 1993—was attending North Carolina State University on a full scholarship. Colleen swelled with pride at the thought. If she could just keep things together, just a little longer, both of her children would be off to a good start in life. She looked forward to Esther coming home for a visit today. She generally visited once a month, riding the bus to Fayetteville with money she earned from her job at school. She came on the last Friday of the month and went back the following Sunday afternoon. Colleen would be picking her up soon.

  She opened the cabinet and took the last bag of dried beans and a half bag of rice from the otherwise empty shelf. She had to come up with a plan soon—something she could do in the next thirty days.

  * * *

  Colleen watched as the bus from Raleigh unloaded. “Esther,” she called and waved, seeing her get off the bus.

  “Hi, Mama,” Esther said excitedly. Her dark brown eyes danced with happiness as she greeted and hugged her.

  Colleen held her close for a moment. “It’s so good to have you home,” she said, then stood back and admired her. Esther was about four inches taller than her mother and had a large frame and flawless black skin. “My daughter—God is good.” She beamed.

  Esther blushed. “Oh, Mama.” She laughed. “You always say that.” She shouldered her bag and walked with Colleen toward the car. “How’re things going?”

  “Good, for the most part, same ole same ole.”

  “Job problems?”

  “Yeah, another one down.”

  Esther put her bag in the backseat, and they got in the car.

  “What about the job you applied for to work in the school cafeteria?”

  “Haven’t heard anything.” Colleen sighed. “You know how government is.”

  “Things will work out—they always do, Mama.”

  Esther was right, and Colleen’s faith was strengthened by her daughter’s confidence. Esther’s faith had always been strong. She had prayed diligently and worked hard at maintaining her grades so she could get a scholarship. Colleen wondered if maybe that had been her downfall when she was in school. Maybe she should have prayed harder. Her mother often told her that everyone had the different gifts. “You just need to find yours. You'll see,” she would say.

  When it was time for bed, Colleen took off her robe and turned down the bed covers. It was nearing eleven thirty. Sam would be coming home any minute now. She eyed her Bible on the nightstand. She didn’t really feel much like studying the Word tonight . . .well, maybe a verse. She opened the Bible. The pages parted at the book of Matthew, Chapter 5. She read verse 10, “Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.” She closed the Bible and knelt beside her bed.

  “Heavenly Father,” she prayed, “you’ve been good to me, and I thank you. Right now, I’m going through a real rough time.” Her voice cracked, and tears flooded her cheeks. “I need your help, Lord. You know my needs. Please show me the way. Thank you, Lord, amen.” She wiped her eyes and rose from her knees. She felt relieved, confident that God would show her the way. All she had to do was obey.

  Chapter 2

  Church service for Colleen was as usual—not a word about her hardship. It was Sunday morning now, and Colleen sat at the kitchen table. She had read through all the job classifieds in the Fayetteville Observer and had found a couple of prospects. One was for a restaurant food worker and the other was a quick-stop store cashier position. She preferred the food worker position. The other one had a greater risk for robbery—in her opinion—but she would apply for both. Neither of the jobs mentioned a shift or work hours. She needed a job now, and that was foremost in her mind. Whichever offer came first, she would accept. She glanced up at the sound of a key turning in the backdoor lock. It must be Sam. He probably had gone jogging.

  “Hey, Ma.” Sam waved to her from the doorway, and then went down the hallway toward his room. “You find anything?” he called back to her.

  “I’ve got a couple of possibles. I’ll see what happens.”

  Sam returned to the opening from the hallway to the kitchen. “Why don’t you just tell Pastor Rivers at church? You know they’d help you out.”

  “No. I did that before, and I don’t want to keep asking. It’s embarrassing, and after a while, people think you just want a handout. We’ll make it. Things are gonna work out.” She saw the smirk on his face and the disbelief in his eyes. “You’ll see,” she added.

  She recalled when she had overheard some whispers at church as she passed by a group of members outside with their backs to the walkway. “She gets social security for the kids and food stamps,” someone had said. “So why can’t she manage?” another member had chided. It hurt when members were so insensitive. After all, it was expensive with a daughter away in college. Scholarships don’t pay for everything, and then there were her own medical bills and whatever else that came up that she wasn't prepared for. She would not ask the church for any more help. She just couldn’t.

  “What about Uncle Barnabas?”

  “No. Absolutely not,” she snapped. Something else would work out. It had to. She was sure that Uncle Barnabas would not be part of the Lord’s plan for her. The mention of his name made her cringe.

  Sam shook his head and went down the hallway.

  Uncle Barnabas was her mother’s brother, and she still had nightmares about him from the time he came to visit, when she was in middle school. Colleen lived with her mother in Greensboro, North Carolina at the time.

  Uncle Barnabas had gotten into Colleen’s bed and molested her during the night and threatened to harm her if she told anyone. She was frightened but told her mother what had happened anyway. Her mother had beaten her brother with a broomstick and inflicted numerous head wounds, leaving scars that were still visible to this day. With much love and support from her mother, she had gone on with her life, but the scar was still there.

  * * *

  When the time came, Colleen helped Esther carry her things to the car, and they went to the bus station. After she pulled into the parking lot, Esther turned to her from the passenger seat and said, “Mama, I know you’re looking for a new job, and I want you to know, I’m praying for you. Something good is going to happen, I’m sure of it.” She patted her mother’s arm.

  “I know it will.” Colleen’s voice cracked as she finished. Her daughter’s faith was so innocent and strong. God give me strength, she prayed inside, to increase my faith.

  “I’m not going to come home for a while. I want to save up for later,” Esther said.

  “What are you and Sam up to? I already told him not to worry about the rent. I’ll work it out.” She knew Esther and Sam were up to something. They were always scheming and planning ways they could help her with the bills.

  Before Esther went away to college, the two of them had started a lemonade stand during the summer and raised three hundred dollars. They’d made a sign that said “Buy a drink so we can pay the rent.” She’d felt humiliated but didn’t have the heart to stop them. That was when her neighbor started sharing her garden vegetables and newspaper. They were such good kids and never complained about having to wear used clothes and shoes.

  Colleen waved goodbye and wiped her eyes. She always cried when Esther left, her heart bursting with pride. It was hard to keep her emotions inside.

  Chapter 3

  Midmorning on Monday, Colleen had left the house to apply for the two jobs she’d found in Sunday’s newspaper. The restaurant had offered her the job immediately, and she’d accepted. It was now the following morning, and Colleen had just arrived at the restaurant a
nd was being given assignments by her shift manager, Mrs. Raelynn McBride. She felt relieved to be working again, but not being open about her religious needs tugged at her conscience. A couple of hours of preparing vegetables had gone by when she noticed a black coworker coming in her direction.

  “Hi, I’m Clarence Hinley,” he said to her and held out his hand across the work table in the restaurant kitchen. He looked to be thirty-something. “You must be the new worker,” he continued.

  She nodded. “Yes. I’m Colleen.” They shook hands. “This is my first day here. You work this shift all the time?”

  “No, I usually work nights. I’m the busboy. This is my second job, but on my day off from my other job, they let me come in early and work.” He was average height and thin and looked as though all his free time was spent body building.

  Colleen nodded. “Staying busy, huh?”

  “You got that right. No idle brains for me.” He grinned. “Have you been introduced around?”

  “No, not really, just told what to do and to get started.”

  He nodded. “I’m not surprised. Come on, I’ll give you a quick tour.”

  She hesitated and glanced around. “I don’t know, I might get yelled at . . .”

  “Don’t be silly," he interrupted. "They’re not going to get you for five minutes of getting to know your surroundings.” He beckoned to her to follow him.

  Clarence led her through the hallway. “This is the office of the restaurant partners, Mr. Luke Tindley and Mr. Purcell Martin.” Neither of them was present.

  “Are they here now?”

  “No, they usually come in midafternoon and stay till closing.” He pointed to the next office as they walked past and said, “This one you know, the shift manager, Mrs. Raelynn McBride.”

  “Absolutely, but I haven’t been to her office.”