The Guys

Bill rolled over in bed to poke me awake. “What, what?” I muttered, coming out of a sound sleep. “Was I snoring again?”

“No,” he whispered. “I think your mom fell. I heard a loud noise.”

“Great. Why couldn’t it just be a burglar,” I muttered as I pulled back the bed covers and planted my feet on the floor. “At least we could shoot him.”

As I entered the room I spotted Mom sitting on floor, propped against the side of her bed. “Are you okay?” I asked. “Is anything bleeding or broken?”

“I’m fine,” she replied, rubbing the top of her right hand where a bruise would blossom by morning. “Who were those men?”

I stopped half way into my crouch to lift her onto her bed and straightened back up. “What men? There aren’t any men.”

“Yes there were,” she argued. “They woke me up and told me to get moving, so I did, but I fell down before I could get to my chair.”

“Mom, it’s two-o’clock in the morning. I think you might have been dreaming. There isn’t anyone here except me and Bill and neither one of us told you to wake up and get going. ”

“Moving,” she corrected. “Get moving. And I wasn’t asleep. They were here and they said my name. They said Elaine, wake up and get moving.”

I paused as I bent to pick her up and glanced at the brightly glowing LED display on the alarm clock on her dresser, , ““Why do you think there would be men in your bedroom at two-thirteen in the morning?”

“I don’t know,” she said with a shrug. “Maybe you and Bill had company again. Like the other time you had late company.” (see The Ghost at the Door)

“Well there’s no one here and no reason for you to get going anywhere but back bed,” I said as I tucked her in.

“Moving,” she said with a yawn as she rolled onto her side. “Get moving. And tell your friends to keep it down.”

wheelchair

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