What is it about my house?
Last night I’m downstairs trying to book an airline ticket for Jen’s cousin, its about 8:30, when I hear what I think is Jen approaching the door. But then there’s a knock. I turn toward the door and see a stocking-capped, longer-haired head peeking in the window. The first thing I thought was, “Arthur has returned!” I walk to the door. I open the door. Its not Arthur. For a split second I wasn’t sure if this was a man or a woman on my doorstep, but then it spoke.
She was a middle-aged woman, in a stocking cap and a medium heavy jacket zipped up to the collar, and she carried some sort of fannypack-like satchel. Curly graying hair stuck out from her cap and she carried some heavy luggage under the eyes. Maybe its just because he’s been in the news, but she almost looked like a less frightening version of Don Imus, though she uttered no racial epithets.
When she did speak she was very excited and clearly concerned about something. Apparently, she was walking up the road and had either witnessed or stumbled upon a raccoon that had been hit by a car. It wasn’t moving at all, but its eyes were still open.
“I don’t know, is that a sign that it might be ok? Like, maybe its just in a coma?”
“Uh, I don’t really know.”
“Do you mind if we make a phone call to animal rescue?”
“Sure, that’s no problem.”
So we made a couple calls to try to find someone to come look at the injured raccoon, but all the animal rescue places were closed. She was very upset that we, the humans, don’t care enough about “the other creatures” to drive more carefully and, I guess, have 24 hour wild animal care facilities. She included herself, as she does not carry around a list of numbers to call in the event of such emergencies.
After our unsuccessful attempt to alert the proper authorities she decided to go back down to where the little fella was and just sit with him for a while in case he came to. I tried to be as reassuring as I could as she was clearly shaken up. She told me her mother had once run over a possum and she made her mom go back and make sure it was ok and it turned out to be a mother with four little babies. Her and a friend were able to save three of them.
She thanked me for the use of the phone, and for even answering the door.
“Most people just say, ‘Get out of here or I’ll call the cops.’ Being on the street, I get a lot of that.”
She asked my name, and I asked hers–it was Lynn–and she went on her way. What is it about my house?