Sixth Day of Christmas
The snow continued to pile up. The path Timmy made to Mrs. Davenport had filled in overnight and through the day. He hadn’t been able to check on her all day. It wasn’t that he couldn’t have, but he was at George’s most the day playing Call of Duty on the PS4.
Crossing the street from George’s, he saw the driveway. It was heavy with snow when he went over to George’s. Oh man, dad shoveled it.
Timmy found dad in the TV room, kicked back in his recliner. The news was on the television. “Dad. I was going to clear the driveway.”
“No problem. I didn’t want to wait on you in case we needed to get out to go somewhere. Tomorrow, maybe.”
Timmy still felt bad. He had done the driveway and hadn’t checked on Mrs. Davenport. He sat on the sofa.
“Take your coat off if you’re staying in.”
“I’m going back out in a minute. Did you know Mrs. Davenport’s gas meter is off and has a padlock on it?”
The recliner snapped shut, and his dad leaned forward on his elbows. “No, I didn’t know that. How did you learn of it?”
“I saw it when I was there yesterday.”
“I’ll check on it.” Leaning back, he shouted over the chair. “Ann, do you still have the number to Pastor Brown?”
#
Timmy stood in front of Mrs. Davenport. The walkway was covered in snow. No footprints were in it. He brushed snow side to side as he made his way up to the porch. After pulling open the screen door, he placed a wreath between it and the front door. Set the card on the wreath and knocked.
On hearing Mrs. Davenport’s recliner close, he took off and was around the mailbox as he heard the door open. He felt he was on a roll now. The card he pinned read:
Merry Sixth Day of Christmas
Your neighbor
Shedding his outdoor gear in the mudroom, Timmy heard his mom call out.
“Frank, do you know what happened to our wreath?”
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