Flash! Fiction 3 by Peter McMillan - HTML preview

52

"That's Mr. Paul. His wife just passed, and I expect he's bringing back her medication in case someone else can use it."

"That's sad, Daddy."

"Yes, it is, son, and that's why Momma's baking a pie to take over later this evening. Mrs. Paul was one of her favorite teachers."

There were two other people. A young girl and her mother who looked real tired. The girl had been crying. The mother held her daughter's hand and stared straight ahead. I looked up at Daddy, and he said very softly, "Some things aren't proper for us to ask about, son."

Just then the front door opened setting off the tinkling sound of the bell. You couldn't sneak in here, that's for sure. It was a lady from the bank. She was sneezing up a storm, and when she moved her hanky away, I saw her nose was as big and bright as an apple.

"Hay fever," said Daddy.

"But there's not hay yet. Daddy, when do they start making those rolls— "

Before I could finish, the nurse called us to Doc Baxter's consulting rooms in the back.

Doc Baxter welcomed us.

"Well, well, young man. I see you're all grown up and ready to make your mark in the world. We've gotta make sure you're fit as a fiddle. We're gonna give you a checkup, and I betcha you'll pass with flying colors. It'll be just like going into the Army."

"But I thought you were in the Navy?" I asked.