SCHOOL TIME

I almost stepped on her. She just sort of crumpled and fell on the ground in front of me. I had no recollection of ever seeing her before, and was at a loss as to what to do. The lady was unconscious but breathing. No blood was evident on her clothes. This was not an epilepsy seizure. Never having had the need to take anyone’s pulse, I tried anyhow. Yes, yes, I felt a slow beat, but my fake Rolex watch had no second hand so I couldn’t keep an accurate count. There were no other morning walkers in sight. Traffic was light. My cell phone was dead. This lady may be dead too, I thought, if I don’t find some help fast.

Telepathy must have worked as a shiny red Lexus pulled up to the curb. A middle aged woman with obviously dyed red hair, got out of her car and rushed over to me and then the still unconscious woman. All I could do was blurt out what I had seen and how I had not helped her in any way. A cell phone was thrust into my hand. Call 911 NOW!’ That I could do. Reds was on her knees, thumping, pumping, breathing into the woman’s mouth. She kept it up even after noticing a slight twitch in the woman’s hand, then a tightening and loosening of her fist.

Whatever cars were on the street pulled to the curb as the siren and flashing red lights came zooming down the street. For all intents and purposes I was not there. ‘Mister, move it.’ Reds was gruffly asked to move, too. She spoke clearly, rapidly and told them all she knew, what she had done.

The one thing I had done was open the lady’s purse, found her driver’s license, insurance card, a red lipstick. There was a flowered silk kerchief on the bottom of the purse. I lifted it and gasped. There was a gun, a big gun, a Glock like Clint Eastwood handles with ease. Knowing nothing about unconscious people, and even less about guns, I did know enough not to touch it. I covered the frightening thing with the scarf, closed the bag and put it on the driver’s seat of the ambulance. Also left was my calling card in case somebody wanted to ask me questions.

Zoom, the red flashing light and ear popping sirens flew east to the closest hospital. Reds and I were alone. We talked, exchanged I.D.s. But I didn’t think it was any of her business about the gun so I said nothing. She drove away. My lovely early morning walk was a disaster. Still shaky, my shame, my embarrassment pushed me to go hide in my apartment. Another shock! At the curb, waiting for me, was Reds, whose real name I took from her card, Ms. DiLeonardo. I thanked her for her help and honestly told her I thought she was wonderful and that she most likely saved that woman’s life. ‘ I know I have been negligent for too long and tomorrow I will positively, absolutely, contact the Red Cross to sign up for the next class in CPR.’

‘Excellent idea, Ms. Eastwood. Now, please be honest with me. I know you looked in the patient’s purse and saw something shocking, so shocking that your mouth gaped like a volcano crater. I also saw you put the purse on the driver’s seat of the ambulance. What did you see?’

‘Sorry, it’s not for me to say. By now that purse has been examined by the police and if you want to know anything call them. They aren’t going to tell you either. My suggestion is, forget it or you may regret it. As for me, I’m taking my own advice. It is forgotten.’

FAT CHANCE!