Fourth Day
of Christmas
Timmy stood on the corner. It could hardly be a better day for the
weather. The temperature climbed to
thirty-five degrees, and the sun was full
out. Rivets
of water were flowing down the curb into
the storm drain with a gurgle, run off from the sidewalks and driveways. He wondered what was that was going on as the
fire engine and EMT wagon flashed their lights in front of Mrs.
Davenport’s.
Firemen garbed in their black water
proof trouser and yellow suspenders pushed a red wheeled stretcher up the porch
and in the front door. Shortly, they
returned with Mrs. Davenport wrapped up in blankets. Wisps of her lavender hair stuck out from under
a stark white cap that Timmy was sure the medical people had put on her.
Burt was among a group on onlookers
across the street with arms folded. The
brat was grinning. Timmy felt disgusted
at him and worried for Mrs. Davenport at the same time. Half-way from the curb to Mrs. Davenport’s
house was as far as Timmy got as two of the medics raised her into the EMT
wagon. One climbed in after her and pulled
the door shut. The other man climbed in
the cab. The lights went out as they
pulled out into the street. The fire
engine fired up with a heavy diesel smell and made a right at the next corner
departing from the other vehicle.
Timmy finished his walk to Mrs.
Davenport’s house and closed the gate left open. The house was back to its usual
darkness. The firemen must have unplugged
the Christmas tree. He turned and saw
Burt take a step his way. He didn’t want
to have to deal with him right now and bolted for home.
#
As Timmy came up the driveway, he
saw dad head into the garage. Mom and dad,
it seemed, lived a life of duality. Mom
always seemed in the kitchen or the laundry room and dad was in the TV room or
garage. Timmy slipped in through the man-door.
It seemed dark despite the Sun
shining in the west garage window. His
dad was setting out some clamps on the workbench. “Dad.”
“Hi, Tim. Where you been?” He leaned against the workbench. “Want to help reassemble this curio door?”
“Sure, Dad. I walked Sally to dance. There were emergency trucks at Mrs. Davenport’s.”
Dad pursed his lips. “Oh, that’s not good, but she is pretty old.”
“They didn’t have any lights or
sirens on when they took her away. Is
that good or bad?”
“That’s good. Sirens means life or death, lights with no
siren means urgent and none means routine.
She must not be too bad then.”
“How can we find out how she’s
doing?” Timmy asked.
“Go in and ask mom to call Pastor
Brown. Mrs. Davenport goes to the
Methodist Church where he preaches. I
think Mom’s in the laundry room.” He set
the curio door on the bench. “Come back
when you’re done.”
#
Mom set a plate of fried chicken down
on the table with a bowl of green beans and dinner rolls. Timmy and Sally plopped themselves at the
table. Dad was coming in the back door.
“Did you hear from Pastor Brown,
Mom?”
“Just a little bit ago. Mrs. Davenport’s diabetes numbers went too
low and she passed out. Her home alone
necklace alerted the medical service and they called the paramedics. She’ll be okay. The hospital will keep her overnight, to get
her numbers back in line and then send her home by ambulance.” Mom smiled and sat. “It’s sweet you’re worried about her. She’ll be okay.”
“I’m worried about her too, Mom.”
“You too, Sally. She’ll be fine.”
Dad sat at the head of the table. “Let’s bless the food.”
Soon as the blessing was over, “Dad,
can we go over to see her after dinner?”
Timmy asked.
#
Mrs. Davenport was asleep when they
moved into her room.
Timmy put the Bible he brought on
the stand next to her head by a box of tissues.
He pulled a little on the card he put in its pages so it couldn’t be
missed. He put his finger to hush Sally
and his dad. The three left the room.
“What was on the card?” Dad asked.
Timmy told him:
Merry Fourth day of
Christmas
Your neighbor
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