Inktober 16: #Angel
In which a former neighbor takes me to task
We used to have a neighbor named Ms Wilma who was a one-woman anecdote factory. We thought she was old at the time, but it’s possible she wasn’t much older than we are now. When it was cool, she mowed her grass in a house dress, but when it was hot, she mowed in just a bathing suit and a farmer’s hat. My son Heyward, 3 or 4 at the time, asked, “Ms Wilma, why are you mowing grass in your bathing suit?” She said, “Because I’m swimming in my sweat!”
When Y2K rolled around, Ms Wilma came over and insisted that we fill up our bathtub with water, lest the utilities infrastructure collapse. Then she came back over and insisted that we drain the tub, lest our babies drown in it.
Anyway, years after we moved to a new neighborhood, the phone rang, and I let it go to the answering machine. It was Ms Wilma, breathless: “Lou Alice! This is Wilma! I just read the paper that a Jonathan Rogers was getting married! I just wanted to know if Jonathan had left you and married somebody else! Call me back!” (Ms Wilma had always thought Lou Alice was an #angel, but she had always entertained serious doubts about me.)
Lou Alice wasn’t able to call back that day. So the next day the phone rang again. Again I let it go to the answering machine, and again it was Ms Wilma: “Lou Alice! It’s Wilma! I want to know if Jonathan left you! Call me back!”
On the third day, Ms Wilma called yet again: “Lou Alice! I think Jonathan left you for a younger woman!…”
But this time I picked up the phone in the middle of Ms Wilma’s message. “Hey, Ms Wilma,” I said. It’s Jonathan. I didn’t go anywhere.”
“Oh!” said Ms Wilma. “Good! I’ve been praying that you’d be miserable and go back home