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The Prodigal Daughter

The Prodigal Daughter

Non-Fiction: Spiritual Memoir


A daughter, who overcame unbelievable odds, and a mother, who spent much time agonizing over how to reach her daughter before it was too late, together tell the unbelievable true story of a “regular teen” who transformed… from the sweet daughter of the local Baptist pastor into a hell-raising and conniving drug-dealer’s wife. The Prodigal Daughter is a story for: • Any teen seeking love and acceptance; • Any frustrated parent seeking avenues to communicate with their kids; • Any addict who thinks they can never be free; • Any person who wonders if their sins are too many for God to forgive; • Anyone who ever doubted that God works in mysterious ways; • Anyone who is ready for a story that will make you get angry, laugh, cry, hold your breath repeatedly, cheer, and then walk away encouraged!

Chapter 1


 “One (More) Bad Decision Changes Everything”

       It was about 10:30 p.m. on May 21, 1991, when I awakened to the sound of them crashing through the front door as they hollered, “Where is he?!  Where is Jonas Malstan?”  (Along with a few expletives.)  We had been asleep for about forty-five minutes in the front bedroom of Jonas’s dad’s house.  I immediately started punching Jonas in the side, while in a loud, scared whisper, urged “Jonas, wake up, wake up!  It’s them!  It’s the cops!  They’re here in the house, WAKE UP!”  But Jonas had been awake for days on “the stuff” and he would not be woken.  I could hear the yelling becoming louder, as the policemen drew closer.  I fumbled around in the dark and quickly found the little white medicine bottle in Jonas’s pocket, where he kept all the packets of cocaine.  I put all of the packets into my mouth.  I had no idea how many there were, and I really didn’t care at that point.

At just that second they burst into the room and flipped on the light.  Several policemen ran in and grabbed Jonas up out of the bed.  Their attention was solely on him and locating his drugs.  I sat next to him, unnoticed, swallowing as hard as I could.  My stringy blond hair hid my face, and tears trickled from my tightly closed eyes as I worked at swallowing the lump stuck in my throat.  I almost gagged, but concentrated on the importance of getting it down, and how much I did not want to go to jail.  This was no game, and there was no time to waste.  Minutes seemed like hours as more cops came into the room.  Some helped with “the search” and some were escorting me outside to try to persuade me to help them with “the search.”  By the time their attention shifted to me, the cocaine was gone!

Jonas finally came to, as they shook him around and screamed threats and demands.  It was clear they did not believe he was really asleep.  As he finally opened his eyes, he was startled to see a nine millimeter gun pointed in his face and policemen crowded around him.  There were also others in the room, turning over bed mattresses, raking books and stuffed animals off of shelves, pulling clothes and everything else out of the closet.  “Where is it, boy?  We know it’s here somewhere!” they screamed repeatedly, as they alternated “roughing him up” and twisting his arms behind his back.  Jonas played dumb, as he hollered insults back and claimed he had no idea what they were talking about.  But each time he cursed them they’d hit him again with a club and ask him again where the drugs were.  This went on for quite a while.  Then they brought in the drug-sniffing dog and commanded him to growl and bark in Jonas’s face; it had been taught more than just how to sniff out drugs.

They searched the house, turning over and pulling out anything that wasn’t nailed down.  This including emptying out all of the canisters of flour, sugar, and spices into the kitchen sink, and emptying the refrigerator’s and freezer’s contents onto the floor.  It seemed that some of those cops might have been enjoying the legal destruction of that home, whether they found any drugs or not.  I guessed they were probably justified in their anger at Jonas, as his arrest had caused them a lot of extra work and a lot of time!

After all of their tedious work, the only thing they found was the empty little white medicine bottle that the cocaine had been in before I swallowed it.  In the other bedroom, they got a tiny amount of coke on a mirror with a razor and cut straw.  Also, in the closet, they discovered some pot seeds in a pan.  Needless to say, the police were very mad at us, and surprised too!  The chief of police, from each of the several surrounding parishes, and dozens of officers, were all there and had been expecting a major drug bust.  So when they didn’t find anything, they were not happy.  Some of them continued to “search” the house and cars, as Jonas and I were both taken out to the squad car in handcuffs and put into the back seat.  They hadn’t found much, but it was enough to take us in.

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About the Author:

Co-authors, Lindy and Lois live in southeastern Louisiana, and are best friends. Lindy is now a licensed attorney, practicing law in the capacity of ministering to families in crisis through her private practice. She enjoys spending free time with her three beautiful children, her loving husband, and her parents. Lois continues to assist her husband, Lindy’s dad, as he pastors a local church.



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