THE LIFE SAVER

THE LIFE SAVER



“Where the hell did you get that shirt?”








“The thrift store”

“And where the hell did you get the money to buy it?”








“Mr. Nyman paid me to cut his grass.”

“And you spent it on a damn shirt, for yourself?”








“I bought some groceries. That’s where most of the money went.”

“Oh, pardon me.  Damn!  I just dropped screw do in this motor.  Come here. My fat fingers won’t reach it, but I bet your long, skinny, sissy fingers can.”

David reached into a whole in the engine motor his father was trying to repair and was able to pull out the screw.

“Glad those skinny, sissy fingers are good for something. You know, I fixed Nyman’s lawn mower last week. You couldn’t have cut his grass if I hadn’t done that. You know that?”





“Yes, sir.”

“Get in there and help your mother with supper. You can do that, I suppose?”

David went into the house and was washing his hands at the kitchen sink when he heard a moan. He looked out the window and saw his father on the ground in front of the garage.

“Mom, call 911! I think Dad might be having a heart attack.”

David ran outside and began administering CPR on his father.

“What the hell are you doing?  Do you know what the hell you’re doing?”





“Yes, sir. Mom’s just called 911”

David kept doing what he’d been trained to do in a First Aid class.  Within five minutes, a fire truck and ambulance pulled up to the house. A paramedic took over and one of the firemen asked David what had happened.  David’s father was taken to the hospital.

“Mr. Bracey, your wife’s here.”

“Good god. What a mess.”

“Stew, the doctor tells me you’re going to need some surgery.  You had a major heart attack.”








“Maybe I should just pull he plug. We don’t got no insurance. We’ve got no money.”

“Let’s just take things one step at the time.”

“Easy for you to say. And where’s the boy? Afraid to see his old man?”








“David’s at home. I’ll bring him by when you’re more stable.”

“When’ll that be, huh?”

“I”ll be back in a little while.”

“I ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

A few hours later, Dorothy Bracey returned to the hospital.

“And where’s the boy? Still afraid?”








“His name is David. He’s gone to stay with my parents for a while.”

“Those fruitloops?”

“You’re talking about my parents, you know.”

“I wanna see my boy.”

“He’ll stop by tomorrow.”

“Got the bills yet?”





“Stew, don’t think about that. We’ll work things out.”

“The best thing is to pull the plug. I don’t want no surgery.”

“No one wants surgery, Stew. Once it’s done, the doctors say you’ll be better than ever.”

“And deep in debt. We’ll probably have to remortgage the house.”

“Let’s get you well.”

“Let’s stop kidding ourselves.  I’m on disability. Got diabetes and who knows what else. I ain’t been better than ever, ever.”

“Stop with the self pity, Stew.”

“Oh, here it comes. Kick me when I’m down.”

“What goes around, comes around.”





“Just lay it on thick, why don’t you?”

“Get some rest. I’ll come back tomorrow.”

“And bring the boy!”








The next morning, Dorothy returned to the hospital without David.


“Okay, where is he?”








“Why do you want to see him so badly. Did you want to thank him for saving your life?”








“I want to see him, cause a boy needs to see his father when his old man’s sick. He can’t just run scared like some sissy.”

“Stew?”








“Yes?”








“I’m going to leave now. I want you to think about things. That’s all I’m going to say.”








Dorothy stopped by three times a day and spoke with the doctors and nurses. She did not visit her husband. After three days, it was time for Stew to return home. No plans for surgery had been made. Dorothy asked Stew’s friend Michael to pick him up and bring him home.


“Sorry to drag you into this, Mike. I don’t know what I’m going home to. The boy’s with his grandparents and my old lady’s, well ...”

“I don’t want to stick my nose in.”

“So don’t. Just get me home. I’ll deal with it.”

“Do you love Dorothy? Do you even like her?”

“Where the hell did that come from? What business is that of yours? Just get me home.”

“I’m not budging until you tell me how you feel about Dorothy.”

“Did she put you up to this?”

“You know better than that.”

“Get me home, dammit.”

“We’ll sit in this lobby until you tell me.”

“No, I don’t love Dorothy. I don’t even like her. I’m sick of everything.”

“If that’s the case, I’m taking you home with me.”

“Oh, no you don’t. You’ve got a crippled wife. You don’t need another cripple.”

“I’m not taking you to a wife you don’t like, much less love. She doesn’t deserve that.”

“Well, then. Just leave me right here. I’ll get a cab.”

“David!”

“Yes, Dad, it’s me.”

“Where’s your mother. I knew she’d come get me.”

“I came with granddad. He’s waiting in the car.”

“So, you two are going to take me home.”








“No, we can’t do that.”

“It’s my damn house. I paid for it. I get to live there.”

“Fine. Mike, take Dad to the house.”

“Are you sure, David?”








“Yes. Mother and I are staying with Grandma and Granddad.”

“Well, ain’t that peachy. Mike’s taking me to an empty house.”








“It’s not empty, Dad. There’s groceries and all. You’ll manage.”

“Did you get those groceries mowing Nyman’s grass?”








“As a matter of fact, I did.”

“You and your mother are just going to leave me there.”

“It’s your house.”

“It’s all of ours house.”

“Right now, it’s yours.”

“And how much penance do I gotta do?”

“It’s not penance, Dad.”

“What do you call it, then?”

“Getting your life back.”

Stew moved the wheelchair he had been sitting in away from David and Michael. After about ten minutes, he wheeled himself back. His eyes were moist.

“David?”








“Yes?”








“I don’t want to go back to the house.”

“Then you’ll go to Mike’s?”








“No.”

“Then where?”

Stew reached for his son’s hand, rubbed it with his wrinkled ones and just held it between them. 

“I’m ready to go home. Do you know what that means, David?”

“I think so, sir.”

“That shirt looks great on you, son.”