I shivered as cold air pressed in through a gap in my hoodie sweatshirt. The
fog almost kept me from seeing my daddy and sisters out at the end of the
wood dock where they stood fishing. I shivered again. I’m sure my lips were
frozen but I kept the rose in my kangaroo pocket warm. Daddy and the kids
were laughing and kidding around at the end of the dock, throwing their spinners
into the lake, but I couldn’t get my mind off of the three old ladies that
we had seen the day before in the small diner downtown. They were a different
sort of people you might say.
They weren’t different in a bad way or anything. They were just… different
that’s all, in their own way I guess. They were sitting at a small round table
having drinks, and we were in a booth along the wall having lunch. One of
them was having coffee, and the other two were having hot tea. The ladies
with tea put in sugar and swirled it with their spoons to mix it in, each
talking to the other at the same time, but the third lady added a slow drizzle
of honey from a spoon to her coffee. She was talking just a bit louder as
if she wanted to be heard over them.
Dad caught me staring at them and coaxed my eyes back to our table, but I
couldn’t keep them there. They were so interesting! Each of them wore socks
rolled down to their ankles with their sandals and really loose flowered dresses
with gaudy sweaters and coats. The craziest of all though were their frilly
ostrich feathered hats, red rouge on their cheeks, and eye makeup; they each
looked like they’d come right out of the thirties or forties! I don’t suppose
there is anything wrong with that look but, it struck me as odd… especially
from ladies who looked to be in their eighties.
They kept talking all at the same time, and laughing at one another gesturing
with their arms and pointing with their hands and fingers. I couldn’t figure
out how they could understand what they were saying over top of the other,
but all at once they’d quit talking and all three would laugh with these loud
hoarse laughs. One of them would hide her face in her hands and laugh until
she cried, and the one wearing glasses and sitting next to her would throw
her head back and just haw haw haw; but the lady with the coffee would sheepishly
hide behind one hand while she bellowed out her laugh, dabbing tears with
her napkin. They were a truly comical trio. I caught myself laughing aloud
with them!
I was embarrassing Daddy. Daddy brought my eyes back around to our table again
and again, and hid his smile behind his napkin. Later at home that evening,
he said it wouldn’t have been so bad if I hadn’t had to turn around backwards
to look at them, but I had really made a spectacle of myself. I agreed and
apologized for the embarrassment.
That’s when it happened, the embarrassment I mean. The ladies got up from
their table and went up to the cashier to pay their bill. The lady that had
the coffee was rather large, well… maybe not large, just larger than the
other two, middle sized I guess. She walked with a cane. Anyway… she walked
from the register over to me and said, “Hello young lady! You are a flower
aren’t you? You are the only one here that laughed with us today… and for
being the light of this café I want you to have this rose from my garden.
It is probably the last bloom of the year and its yellow petals would put
sunshine in your eyes.”
Well… my eyes got as big as a hoot owl’s and went over to Daddy’s; I was
as frightened as a cricket on a fishhook! Daddy said he was a little scared
too, but he nodded that it was okay for me to take the gift. I reached up
and took the rose with a little smile and thanked her. She was excited that
I took the gift, and once I had taken it, I saw that the other two ladies
had been standing at the front door waiting for her. Then they left the café and
walked slowly down the sidewalk out of sight, jabbering and waving their arms
while they talked.
When I really looked at the rose I saw that it was perfect. I had never seen
such a rose. Daddy stuck out his hand and took it and said he thought it was
really a special gift for a thirteen year old girl, and then he smiled and
gave it back. I guess they were really nice ladies after all, not so strange…
just out to have a good time.
A water splash brought me out of my thoughts, “Daddy fell in!” Lisa
yelled.
“That’s great!” I hollered back. They were always kidding making
me think something was wrong, but it was time for me to join in. I loved to
spend time with Daddy, even if I did embarrass him once in a while.
“No! She’s not kidding!” yelled Sarah. “Daddy fell in and he
hasn’t come up!”
“Yeah right.” I said, as I turned toward the end of the dock walking
slowly. I looked toward them and there were the three sisters standing there
looking over the end of the dock. The water was smooth and Sarah was reeling
in her line as quickly as possible. “Okay, where is he?” I mumbled
out.
Sarah was my oldest little sister, she pointed to some small bubbles by the
corner of the dock, and “I think he’s right there!"
Suddenly, I realized that they weren’t kidding; Daddy really had fallen into
the cold water! I began to question them, “What happened, what was he
doing, who pushed him–”
They all answered at once… "He was throwing his… "He leaned
over… "He grabbed his chest… "There was a splash… "He
went in with his rod… "He tried to catch the dock… "He…
I heard them all perfectly. This must be how it is with the old ladies when
they are all talking. “Wait a minute! Lisa! Go call 911!” Kelly,
the youngest, started crying. “Sarah, take Kelly back to the shoreline,
I’m going in.”
“No Susan, you might drown!” said Sarah.
“I’ll be okay… now take Kelly back down by the shore, and get a rope…
quick!”
I dove in head first. The water was freezing, it must’ve been thirty-five
degrees but I kicked for the bottom of the lake. I kicked and kicked for what
seemed like several minutes, and I finally felt the denim of daddy’s coat,
then his hand. The water was about fifteen feet deep here; I grabbed his hand
and started pulling for the surface. Come on daddy you must come up. He was
so heavy as if he didn’t want to come to the surface, but he was moving slowly,
so very slowly. My lungs were about to burst for air, my ears, fingers, and
hands were frozen and numb but I pulled and pulled.
Finally we reached the surface, and on the dock was someone with a rope. The
rope came down from the dock and I barely heard instructions on how to put
the loop around both dad and myself. I couldn’t keep his head out of the water
as we were slowly pulled to the shoreline and up onto shore at about the same
time that an ambulance arrived.
The rest of the day was a blur. The EMT’s worked on Daddy and got him in the
ambulance. I heard another ambulance arrive while someone put a blanket around
me and took me inside the house to get warm. I was stripped of my wet clothes
and fed warm chocolate drinks and tea and kept beneath the blankets and quilts.
Little eleven-year old Sarah went to the hospital with Daddy.
She called later in the day to say that Daddy had made it to the hospital
okay and survived a heart attack and cold water drowning. He was talking to
her and would probably be fine. There were several people around me that evening
that were keeping me warm, smiling and telling me that I was a hero, though
they were really sad, and talked in whispers when they were away from me.
I didn’t understand the whispering but I was so cold and tired falling into
and out of sleep.
The next morning, Sunday I think, I was awakened and fed a large breakfast
of pancakes and eggs. The lady who fixed breakfast for me was Ms. Whitmore.
She said she wanted to fix breakfast for me because she was proud of what
I had done. She said she had found my rose in my sweatshirt and had hung it
by the fireplace to dry. I hadn’t recognized her at first without her makeup
but she was one of the tea ladies in the café, the one with the glasses,
the day that daddy and we four girls had eaten there. I asked her how she
figured out where we lived, and she said that talk was all over the town that
our daddy was in the hospital, and we would need taking care of for a few
days. She said not to worry, because she and Ms. Guthrie would take care of
me and my sisters. She said that Ms. Dunn would have loved to have helped
out too but she would not be able to.
When I asked her why, she just waved me off and said not to worry, they would
take care of us.
Then on Thursday, everyone excused themselves in the afternoon for a couple
of hours to go to church but soon Ms. Guthrie was back to fix our dinner.
This is the way it was for almost three weeks that summer, the two little
old ladies took care of us while daddy was in the hospital. We played games
and went fishing and became good friends with the two older ladies. It turns
out that they indeed were in their eighties. Ms. Guthrie was eighty-six, and
Ms. Whitmore was eighty-seven, and Ms. Dunn the coffee drinker was ninety-three
years old!
We visited daddy in the hospital a few times, when there was someone available
to drive us to town, and he was getting stronger each time we saw him. He
smiled and promised to be home soon to fish with us again.
The day daddy came home he thanked the ladies for their help and friendship
and apologized for the day we laughed at them in the café. They both
broke out laughing and said that they got laughed at all the time when they
dressed up, and for him not to worry about it. Then they said their goodbyes,
gave us all hugs and wished us a good year.
After the ladies left I asked daddy why Ms. Dunn wasn’t able to help them
take care of us. He frowned, a small tear came to his eye and he sat us down
and said, “Sweetie, she died from pulling us to shore the day I fell
in.”
Then I realized who had thrown me the rope, and why everyone was so sad that
first night as I turned and looked over to the fireplace at her dried yellow
rose. “Don’t worry,” I said, “She is still watching over us.”
Originally published September 7, 2009 on Fly Anglers Online by By Michael Hanvey.