Motivating Maddie: Seven Deadly Sins 4 (Sloth)

By Ruth Munro

Long ago Al's Dad made him pray for his wife. He was about eight at the time so possibly he didn't take it seriously. He prayed for a girlfriend who wouldn't interfere with his fishing, would sleep a lot, and would love the beach, but hate dolls. Around that time Maddie was born. What if God was listening to that prayer, but despite all human logic seriously decided to give Al his four wishes? Or has He? A lot of men seem to think Maddie is the answer to their prayers.
Maddie of course doesn't know this. She's intending to never marry anyone but a rich man, since a rich man owns his own beach. Her dream is to spend her time sleeping on the beach being very lazy.
Then there's the other problem in both of their lives, the one of the delusional but violent man who thinks God created Maddie just for him. After all Maddie sleeps on the beach all day, and so doesn't flirt with other men. She never goes out with anyone, which means she's pure. Purity is good because it won't wake the beast that lives inside him. All he has to do is get her attention, and then he sees her best friend...
Will the death of her best friend grab Maddie's attention and succeed in motivating Maddie? How long can guilt stop Maddie being lazy? How many women will die around her before she learns sleeping can be a dangerous thing?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ruth Munro
• Release date: Oct 6, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370420384

Ruth Munro

I am Australian widow, who doesn't like to admit her age, with four children and two step-children, living and working in China. I wasn’t always a writer. At different times, for reasons of acute boredom I have pursued a lot of entertaining professions and hobbies. Personally if I lived my life the way I wanted I would spend all my time on my favorite activities. I like to catch up with family, write, read incessantly, watch movies, and study towards my Masters. Fortunately God insists I live a balanced life. So in my spare time I pray a lot, spend time with God, and work a full time job! I am so blessed because my genetics have meant I rarely need much sleep. As to my career I am an experienced teacher, although I have also worked for Social Security as a clerk, sold roof tiles, been a wife and mother, worked as a Podiatrist and run various departments (or worked in them) in my church. I have always taught. I held my first unofficial math class on the steps of my neighbour’s house when I was about ten. I am also a jack of all trades since I’ve been a single mother since my husband died when we were both 34. In 2012 after living in India for two months working at Asha Bhawan, God gave me the theme of this series, and revived my desire to create stories that amuse, but also make us think. I hope you enjoy them. I have just published the sixth book in the seven book series. I am still struggling with the seventh book in the series which is mostly written. I am taking too long I know, but I really hate the subject matter. I will get it done by December even if I have to rewrite the middle and change some major plot events. If you like my books please leave a review. If you hate them also write a review. Like all authors I will think about your criticisms, although like most of us I hate criticism! May my God bless you!

Book preview

Motivating Maddie: Sloth (Seven Deadly Sins 4)

Text copyright 2012 Ruth Munro

All Rights Reserved

Cover Art Copyright R L Sather. Accessed online at https://www.selfpubbookcovers.com/RLSather

Smashwords Edition

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 recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Dedication

To my beloved son Joe who I admire because of his laid back attitude to life, for I am driven. May he always find the best balance between contentment, ambition and love.

Foreword

I declare that I am the original writer of this book, wrote it in 2012, and claim all rights to it. However I want you to remember this book is fiction. You may meet some characters you think you know. They aren’t them, but may carry superficial resemblance because people are alike. We are products of our upbringing, our society and our genetics. We are also all human, and so all flawed. I apologize in advance if anyone thinks they see themselves in this book, and gets a shock.

This book is intended to be humorous. However I reserve the right to fail in this book, and to get serious in the last few chapters, or at times during serious events. This is a Christian book.

According to online sources sloth is defined as laziness and can be both physical and spiritual. Some people, wiser than me, define it also as an absence of action when something must be done in a situation.

Proverbs has its own list of deadly sins and one of them is a heart that devises wicked plots. This one must be opposed by caring people. So often though we don’t care enough to notice what happens to others or are too lazy to make the effort to defend those snared by a wicked plot. I have never understood this attitude.

This is why this book and this heroine were hard for me to relate to. In my real life I’m a teacher and I’m a control freak. I want to save the world, wear myself out trying to, and I admit to all these faults. I know us control freaks annoy the rest of the world, who prefer not to micromanage everything. In return those who aren’t control freaks annoy us. May you find my heroine easier to like and get along with than I did! May all of you be non-control freaks who still care, as opposed to control freaks who care too much and won’t leave anyone alone.

Contents

Prologue: Close Encounters with Cars

Chapter One: Genesis and Genetics

Chapter Two: Synthesis and Sudden Death

Chapter Three Suspicion and Saving Face

Chapter Four: Adventures and Adversity

Chapter Five: Dissonance and Discovery

Chapter Six: Catastrophe and Coincidences

Chapter Seven: Disasters in dating

Chapter Eight: fact-Finding for Fools

Chapter Nine: calamities and Cantankerous behavior

Chapter Ten: Slip-Ups and Sincerity

Appendix: Bible Story References and Synopsis.

About the Author

Prologue: Close Encounters with Cars

Since you cannot do good to all, you are to pay special attention to those who, by the accidents of time, or place, or circumstances, are brought into closer connection with you. - Augustine of Hippo

Maddie

I was in an uncharacteristically bad mood. Normally I was laid back and I’d ignore what I couldn’t change, but instead I was fuming when I got out of the car. Who did that guy in the pick-up think he was? What a road hog! Most people stay on their side of the road. Especially in suburbia, where kids race around like suicidal lemmings on bikes. Not him.

He was an invitation to road rage. I’d never been good at fighting anything, least of all temptation. I needed his address and my base-ball bat.

Of course the downside to that was it would require energy. More energy than I liked to use. Hmmm. Maybe I could send someone else round with a baseball bat, like my Dad.

I’d been right this morning when I’d wanted to call in sick. It wasn’t a day for home visits, road rage and aggravation. I was too grumpy to want to deal with anything annoying. Perhaps it was because I was tired.

Instead it was a day for lazily sunning yourself on the beach. If I hadn’t used up my sickies last time I got tempted I’d have a spare one now. I sighed aloud at the thought. It would take a couple of weeks before I could pull my next one.

I reached into the car, and grabbed my home visit kit. From a nearby construction site a series of wolf whistles distracted me. I straightened up and looked round for the stupid woman walking too close to a construction site.

Then I realized the whistles were probably for me. I’d forgotten how I was dressed. In my defense I was commonly dressed like this, although mostly I dressed like this on the beach, after work.

Two of the creeps were waving at me and whistling, and one other was clearly looking my direction. The third one, the one not waving now, looked like that construction worker I’d repeatedly encountered at the beach over several years, - the jerk who called me Princess Madison. The one who said he was a Christian and insisted on constantly annoying me. He could take his religion and shove it where the sun doesn’t shine. Anyway, if it was him he was a hypocrite. Christians shouldn’t harass or perve at girls; they should stick to their bible reading.

I sighed at that final thought. It was partially my own fault. I hadn’t bothered to get into my nursing clothes since I was running late. I’d already known the woman I was visiting wouldn’t care. She wasn’t conventional at all! Besides, this would be my only visit before noon. I had my uniform to change into later when I got the motivation. Call me unprofessional, but this morning it felt like it took too much effort to dress up, and too much time. So I hadn’t done it.

I’d merely showered and got into my bikini (my standard underwear) and thrown the cover up on. I intended to sit on the beach at twelve, catch some rays and eat lunch there. I was wearing a cover up, but it was short and almost see-through and when I bent over… But it wasn’t my fault… It was beach wear and I was two blocks from the beach.

Besides it was their fault… Perverts! Men were all the same. In a perfect world I wouldn’t have to worry about how I dressed. In my opinion men should control their inner caveman! Virtuously, I gave the workers the finger, and then content I’d struck my blow for all women everywhere I went up the path to the door.

I stuck my finger on the bell and pushed it. From inside I heard something fall over and then complete silence. It was disconcerting, but it wasn’t unusual to come and find quiet in a house you visited. Maybe the woman had forgotten. Perhaps she'd been desperate for a quick nap. New mothers needed their sleep. This one was only one week on from the day she’d survived a horrendous labor.

I’d heard about the labor from my supervisor. She no doubt felt obligated to tell me even though the details were in the patient's file. She’d had a natural birth, if a little long, but then hemorrhaged and needed to be rushed to theatre.

I hadn’t wanted to hear the details. Once you’ve heard one horrendous labor story, who would want to hear more? Honestly it was enough to put you off ever having a kid. I’d been smart enough not to object though.

My supervisor believed even one week on we should be looking for complications. Knowledge, she said, was power. I didn’t agree. I’d found most people with complications had already sorted it by the end of the first week past surgery.

I wasn’t usually needed for stuff like that. I was there for the kid and for breastfeeding difficulties. Why bother hunting for the proverbial nail in the haystack. The serious cases didn’t ever get out of hospital till all their problems were solved. Anyway the mother was a grown woman, not a child. She had access to a phone…

I pressed the bell again. I could hear the sound of it ringing, and from inside I heard the baby start to cry. I’d woken it up. I waited at the door and thumped on it but no one came.

The baby was getting frantic. I hated hearing its cries, but I didn't know what to do about it.

I don’t know what you think about babies, but I see them as little monsters. You heard me! Monsters! They look charming asleep, but they have this scream that can even motivate someone as lazy as me. They motivate me to shut them up. Anything for peace.

I couldn’t see how any woman could sleep through cries like that. I started to get this creepy feeling that something was wrong. Maybe I should have listened harder to my supervisor after all. Maybe the woman was unconscious? Maybe she was bleeding?

The baby was hiccupping now in between heart rending episodes of rage. No one was responding. So with my heart in my hand, (I was after all dressed like a beach bunny not a legitimate home visitation midwife), I turned the handle on the front door.

It was not locked. Trying not to think about how stupid that was in this day and age, I pushed it open wide.

The baby was getting louder. I was relieved I could go in and rescue the kid, but also a little nervous. Other than the noise from the baby there was no sound. In fact it was almost creepy.

I took my first cautious steps inside the house.

Hullo… Is anyone home? Hullo? I was greeted by silence from anyone old enough to answer, and a frantic redoubling of the baby’s shrill cries. I took the noise as long as I could, but then I moved towards the sound of the baby. Any normal person would check on the baby first, not the woman. So I did.

The infant was in a bassinet in the main bedroom, so I picked the kid up. There was no sign of its mother. Its cries stopped for a second, then redoubled.

Give me a break, I told it when it started rooting around my chest, quieting suddenly as it searched. Do I smell anything like your mother?

The kid took no notice and clamped on through my cover up and bikini and sucked hard. Ouch! I managed to pry it off. The kid had a grip like superglue.

It’s not gonna happen sunshine, I told it, turning it around to face away from my chest. It wasn’t pleased, and redoubled its screams. Let’s see if your Mum has expressed some stuff for you, and then let’s find your Mum. She has to be somewhere around. Someone’s been feeding you.

I could tell that from the smell of its nappy and the weight. The kid smelt disgusting and was sopping wet. I wrapped it in a nearby baby blanket so it wouldn’t drip on me.

First things first, I thought. Shut up the kid before dealing with the excrement. We went into the kitchen and I found there was a made up bottle in the fridge, whether of breast milk or formula. I shoved the teat in the frantic kid’s mouth without heating it and then walked into the lounge room.

Some women would condemn me because breast milk comes warm. The kid was too frantic to wait. Anyway, it wouldn’t be me dealing with the kid at the end of the day. It would be the mother walking the floor with her child hysterical from tummy pain. Besides I still had to find her, urgently! Now where could she be? Why wasn't she waking up!

I turned towards the living room...

It was then my day turned upside down. I screamed, then clutched at the baby, the bottle and the blanket. I’d almost dropped them in shock. Then I ran. I ran screaming out the front door, through the open front gate and straight into the path of a pick-up. Brakes slammed. Two voices rose in male anger.

What the hell?

Lady if you want to kill yourself put the baby down first.

Huh? I said.

I said--, the bloke in the passenger seat began again, but my brain had restarted. I needed help. I also needed someone to hold the kid while I got it.

Give me your phone! I said to him.

What? … No!

The bloke driving the pick-up looked about twenty. The bloke in the passenger seat who was refusing to be reasonable and hand over the phone was about thirty and was furiously angry. I knew him. It was my nemesis the construction worker. Now there was a coincidence.

It didn’t matter. I had no time for this. The kid was starting to scream again. Who could blame it? The kid was hungry. It only added to my impatience. Sure I could have got my own phone from my car, but it was ten steps away and his was closer!

Take the kid! I said, and dumped the baby in his lap, bottle, blanket and dripping nappy included. Now give me the phone! Fortunately he caught the bottle and the kid and had the presence of mind to stick the bottle in its mouth. It left him with no hands free. He still had a mouth though, unfortunately.

Look princess, he said, if you don’t want your baby there are better ways to handle this… Joe, give me that towel on the floor.

I ignored him and half crawled into the car through the open window, squashing the baby who objected. Unfortunately I placed my sparsely clad chest a little close to my nemesis’ face. His eyes went wide. At least it shut him up…

I managed to grab his phone.

Give that back! he yelled. I ignored him so he turned to his friend. Do something! The driver started to take off his seat belt, but I was already dialing as I wriggled out.

It rang and connected.

Yeah, hullo. I need the police and an ambulance, I told the emergency operator. I paused while I was instantly redirected. Yeah hullo, I’m at 25 Newton Avenue and there’s someone here I think is dead.

It was lucky I’d gotten connected so fast because the bloke who had now gotten out of the driver side of the car stopped in his tracks. He didn’t take the phone off me as he’d clearly been intending. Instead he was shocked into immobility.

Holy hell! he said. Who says I can’t stop men in their tracks when I try?

No I think she’s dead, I told the operator ignoring both men. I’m a nurse not a doctor, but I’ve never seen anyone recover from a wound that’s bled like that… Plus her head looks… damaged… I don't know, she looks like someone hit her head with something big… Yeah okay, I’ll go back in and check her pulse… Yeah I’ll try not to do anything or walk anywhere that interferes with the scene… Yes I'll go straight back outside after I check…

So they are on their way. Thank you… No, she really looked dead to me… No, I don't think there's anyone else there. I didn’t see anyone else inside… I’m sure! Yes, I’m really sure! … When they come I’ll be waiting out front on the steps. They'll be able to come straight in, the front door was unlocked when I got here. I hung up and handed the phone back to the driver.

Then I turned to the jerk in the passenger seat. The one I’d climbed all over trying to get the phone he wouldn’t give to me. The jerk whose continuing encounters and repartee had almost made me give up my favorite beach. He was looking blessedly shocked. I hoped it lasted.

I need you to stay here and feed the baby.

What? … No! I sighed.

Look, I have to check on its mother and there’s no one else to do it. Try not to be any more of a jerk than you need to be. Be a saint instead. Feed the kid and wait here. I’ll come get him when I can.

Princess, you don’t know me well enough to call me a jerk.

No? I smirked. First, you’ve annoyed the hell out of me forever. Today, you whistled at me with your idiot friend when I was going into the house. I was sure it was him on the roof earlier.

I didn’t whistle-- I ignored him, continuing my rant.

Then you nearly run me over as I’m running out for help. Now you can’t be bothered spending twenty minutes feeding the baby of a mother who’s probably dead. All that spells a-s-s-h-o-l-e to me.

Princess you don’t even look like a community nurse. You look like a teenage beach bunny. And you have poor impulse control. You could have just yelled for help. You didn’t have to throw yourself in front of the car.

I have no time for this jerk, I snarled. Grow a heart! Watch the kid! I’ll be back. I turned around to run back into the house.

You sure can pick ‘em, said the driver to his mate, as I ran for the door. I pray to find women like that and they drop into your lap.

In what alternate universe is an insane red-headed ditz like that an attractive woman? His friend just laughed and said something I didn’t quite hear about living at the coast and gorgeous women in bikinis.

I was fuming. Red-headed ditz? Why was it every single time I encountered him he ruined my day. The guy was a train wreck. If you got in his way he smashed apart your good mood like a car stuck on a level crossing! Now I thought about it that car earlier that had ruined my mood looked oddly like his…

I would have gone back and given both idiots a piece of my mind, but I didn’t have time. I had other priorities. My life works like triage. I only deal with what I must. It’s part of my life plan.

Chapter One: Genesis and Genetics

Play is the beginning of knowledge – George Dorsey

Alistair

I was sitting on my bed trying to brace myself when my Dad came in. He sat down next to me and he sighed.

What were you thinking son? I didn’t answer him. I wasn’t sure what I was thinking. I’d just thrown the stuff at my sister. She was annoying. It was her fault.

He didn’t say anymore, just waited. I knew from experience my Dad would wait a really long time and meanwhile I was going without dinner. I was hungry. I hadn’t eaten in ages!

Why did God make girls Dad? It made him smile, but then he sobered up.

"Girls