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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