Well, I’ve recovered from the foot thing. Walking normal again. Meanwhile, I have been busy as usual.
I can’t imagine being bored. I don’t seem to have enough hours in a day. As a child, I remember Dad trotting off for a nap on the living room sofa after Sunday lunch. Sitting and watching him from the kitchen, I wondered why he chose to waste so much time sleeping at mid-day. After all, he slept at night as did the rest of the family. Even as a child, I felt the days were too short.
Today, sitting here, I am tired. I want a nap. But I’m too stubborn to do so. My eyelids drop every once in a while and it is mid-afternoon.
Last night, at about midnight, I awoke for a drink of water and returned to bed. The full moon illuminated my path so as not to bump into furniture. Soon after closing my eyes, a voice called, “Hello? Hello?”
Was I dreaming? I closed my eyes.
I got up and rushed to look down at the front door from the stairway. Closed. No one there.
Where? I call to Hubby, “Someone is here!” I rushed downstairs to the kitchen. No one there. I opened the cellar door to find the light on. It had been turned on hours ago to assist my company in maneuvering the stairs with a platter of barbecued burgers and rolls. If the light was still on, the garage door might be open as well. I sucked in a breath and answered, “Hello!” at the top of the stairs. “Hello?” came from below. A male’s voice.
Barefooted, I quietly stepped down the stairs, hesitating at the bottom. Should I go around the corner into the basement and see this person inside? Perhaps he was outside in the driveway. “Hello!” I called. “Hello” replied from outside. Stepping into the lit basement I walked toward the open garage doorway. A man of about thirty-five appeared with a flash light glowing from his smart phone. He seemed sober, standing about fifteen feet away. He stayed put.
“I’m sorry to wake you. But I’m not from around here and I’m lost. My aunt was driving and she was picked up on a DUI and the police told me to walk. I’ve walked over two miles and I don’t know where I am. I finally saw your light and thought I could ask for your help. Can you help me. I’m not used to all these trees and woods that are around here and I’m really scared of wild animals coming out. Don’t be afraid of me, I’m a good guy. I won’t do anything bad. I’m just scared and I don’t know where I am.”
Asking him to stay in the driveway for a moment, I returned to the stairs finding one of our guests at the top with a quizzical look. Hubby appeared next. “I need a man down here. Please,” I whispered. My urgent request moved Hubby and the couple visiting to descend and investigate.
Returning to my midnight guest, I grabbed a chair just outside near the garage door and offered him a seat. My goal was to have him in a position where he could not easily lunge at us. He accepted. Upon questioning, we debated what to believe and what to do. My male guest said, “Tell him to get out of here. Get going down the road.”
His name was Robert, He wanted to get back home after a day at the Lobster Festival. We determined he was about four miles from his destination. His phone had no service and displayed his eleven unsuccessful attempts at calling his wife.
Being the good Samaritan, I called 411 for a taxi. 411 was not available. We couldn’t find the local taxi in the phone book. So I called 911. I explained the problem. The officer asked what the emergency was. No emergency. “You do NOT call 911 for a taxi.” I apologized asking him who to call, he gave me the sheriff’s number and hung up.
Sympathetic to our situation, the sheriff’s dispatcher gave us a number. Meanwhile the plan changed. We decided to call Robert’s wife. After several attempts, she finally answered. She knew Robert. Handing Robert my phone, he spoke begging her to pick him up.
We suggested to that he walk along the road to flag her down. As he parted, I said, “Don’t worry about wild animals. The only thing you have to worry about are the cars going by. But they will avoid you.”
Thanking us, he then lit his way down our driveway into the moon-lit night.
Hubby and I found it difficult to sleep afterwards. Eventually, I sat up waiting for Hubby to be in deep sleep. Light awakens him. I only turn it on when necessary.
The door being shut tight, I gently and firmly turned the knob. No squeak. I returned the knob to its original position. No squeak. I pulled the door open. No screaming hinges. Upon exit, I gently pulled the door towards me without shutting it. Success!
Quietly making my way to the downstairs living room in the dark. I decided to read. As I fumbled around, a light suddenly switched on in the hallway. I walked to the stairs to find our male guest at the top step, bent over, struggling to quickly don his jeans. Was he planning to run down the stairs to grab a “intruder”? When I appeared at the bottom of the stairs, he stopped in mid-pose. One bad move and I imagined him tumbling down the stairs—head first.
“Jesus Christ, Jo. We thought someone was in the house! Why are you walking around in the dark?” Not waiting for an answer, he pulled his pants up, returned to the guest room in a huff and shut the door.
Chuckling to myself, and appreciating that he was ready to defend our home from an unknown intruder, I replied, “Sorry, I couldn’t sleep.”
Returning to the living room, I read for about an hour, then tip-toed back to bed where I finally managed to get four hours of sleep.
We were pretty tired this morning. Especially my male guest who had to catch a 6:30 AM flight.
Now I believe I will join Hubby for a little nap.