The Square Peg – Twyla Takes a Tumble
©
S. Bradley Stoner
Well, after four straight days, the rain had finally abated
for a while. I was out checking my lawn to see if I dared mow it. Nope, Old
reliable would have just disappeared into the mud. Yep, it was that wet. Matter
of fact, I darn near lost a shoe while I was checking conditions. I decided I’d
better stick to the concrete before I got stuck in the mud. Oh, remember how
the weathermen said a high was parked over Texas and it wasn’t moving? And how
it was going to stay hot? And how we were about to enter water restrictions
because the aquifer was dropping? Yeah… they lied again. Either that or they are
clueless when it comes to predicting weather. Me? I go by the Old Farmer’s
Almanac (not the new one… they can’t get it right either) and they predicted a
wet summer. They were pretty much on target. We had like two weeks of what
Texans consider hot weather, not that I’m complaining.
Anyway, there I am standing on my front sidewalk,
looking at my lawn, when along comes Twyla Twaddle. I don’t see Twyla all that
often since she rarely comes out of her house. Today, I didn’t see her at all.
She ran into me. Literally. Yep, smacked square into my back, side-slipped,
stuck a sneaker on my lawn, went skittering across the grass, and landed, kersploosh!, right smack dab in the
middle of the soggiest part of my yard. For about a second, we were both too
stunned to say or do anything. How she ran into me in the first place is a
mystery… I’m pretty hard to miss.
Finally, I extended a hand to her and said, “Are you okay?”
Twyla looked up at me. I was horrified… her eyes were almost
swollen shut, her nose was red, and her complexion was blotchy. I thought, ‘Oh
Lord, I’m gonna get sued.’
“Dough, I’b not. I’b biserable. It’s da bolds… I’b allergic
and da bolds are killing be.”
“It’s been raining, so of course the molds are going to be
heavy. Have you taken an antihistamine? That should help alleviate the
symptoms,” I said, helping Twyla to her feet.
”Dough, I dod’t take bedicine… I’b going to see Patti, she’s
got a hobeopathic remedy that’s healthy. I wouldn’t touch adythidg from a
pharbaceutical compady. It’s all bad for you.”
“Not all medicine is bad for you, and not all home remedies
work. I found the cheap, generic antihistamines work way better than the
expensive ones, good old chlortrimeton works best… the local supermarket just labels it HEB
Allergy. It costs less than three bucks. You should try it.”
“Dough! I dod't take bedicine!”
Twyla stamped her foot to emphasize the point, and promptly
landed on her kiester once more. I helped her up again and escorted her to the
sidewalk where she straightened her clothes and resumed her trek to Patti’s
with as much dignity as she could muster.
About that time, Duncan wandered up. “Hey, can I borrow some
of that allergy bedicine… the bolds are killing me.”
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