Lord-Welches

Monday, November 8, 2004


Ah, a Monday, Collette thought to herself – perhaps the most dis-liked day of the week anywhere in the United States. It was bright out, cold, and not terribly inviting. She had hoped to spend the early morning walking through New Town, as she had the previous evening with Mom and Joe. It had been dusk out, cold, and a playful wind rustled the sheets of construction paper on the sides of the unfinished buildings. A Dutch canal flowed quietly through Main Street and a beautiful bluish-gray covered the skies as the sun set and several stars gloamed above. The air was quiet, only the slight rumblings of small jets landing at the airport far off. A clear skyline in the valley, the image of a western ghost town, or sleeping bayou town with buildings of rust red, deep blues, dark mints, and the likes of depot colors… maybe a street in old England once the trees were planted. A soda fountain would come in, little shops and boutiques, town houses, lofts, studios, cottages, tiny mansions… welcoming. She could imagine it during Christmas. Uncle Hilario and Aunt Corliss and Uncle Balthasar, the president of the Fox Theater, and Aunt Tuuli, along with their banana yellow hummer, would move there next spring.


From noon to four that day, Mom and all the kids popped by the apartment, so Carrie-Bri could use the Internet and for Collette to tutor Joe and Rose in math and writing. Mom taught Linnea and Francis in the living room. They came bearing burgers and sodas, and after several mishaps, including Francis shooting rubber-bands off the balcony onto a car from Ohio, below, and subsequently locking himself out in the cold, as the door had jammed shut behind him – he was eventually let in after much shoving and pushing and wriggling of the doorknob with a rubber jar-opener – Rose and Joe messed up the bedding in the attempt to read all the embroidered signatures on the wedding quilt.. things calmed down, and Rose played with the treasure chest of beads on a ceramic yellow plate, as well as with the glass chess set (or “chest”, as she called it).


Later, as Carrie, Joe, and Rose laughed till they cried over mad-libs and vintage grab-bag tees with funny whimsical nonsensical sayings on-line, (such as “Adopt a Wheatfield”), Collette read through the directions Mrs. Blots had sent from Louisiana on how to arrive at the church in Shreveport. Mom and the younger two watched Wuthering Heights as she drew up lists and settled on bringing a gift to the family she and OLeif would be staying with – Mrs. Moss, a widow of several years, and her two teenage daughters.


Meanwhile, she wondered if the young Canadian women downstairs in 201 (no doubt close to her age), and Alaskan-Indian looking, was hearing an abnormal amount of thumping and rumbling from the crew above. Her husband designed furniture. She though it might be an interesting experience, moving to Missouri from Canada for awhile. But she still rather wondered if she was lonely, being at home all day alone.


Earlier during lunch, Mom had spoken of her phone call with Mrs. Lord-Welches, a kindred spirit up in Iowa. The discussion was on Colorado, her middle son.


Yes,” Mom was saying, “Mrs. Lord-Welches was telling me about Colorado. And apparently, he’s receiving an honorable discharge from the National Guard. Last August while Colorado was at football practice, they were all out on the field, and he missed a pass. And Mrs. Lord-Welches says he just never misses a pass. The coach even called out there to him to see if he was alright. ‘No, no, I’m fine,’ he said. But then the second time, he dropped the ball, and he collapsed.”


Oh my.”


Mom went on to explain how he had heat stroke, and how the coach brought him into the shade, put ice directly on his body, not the best thing to do… and how Mr. and Mrs. Lord-Welches came over to the school and…


… They just weren’t prepared for what they saw. She said he was just flopping around like a dead fish.”


Convulsions?”


Yes. His eyes were rolled back. They took him to the hospital, and his body temperature was 112.”


Carrie-Bri shook her head, “That’s impossible. It’d be lethal if he hit like 108 or something.”


Well,” Mom went on, “I don’t know. They said that it got up to 116 down on the field.”


The story went on to describe how the same episode occurred while in the National Guard, and they couldn’t keep him in there, in such a condition. His first episode hadn’t even been listed on his health record. Mrs. Lord-Welches was not pleased. And now they waited to see what course of action should be taken next, as it seemed that one of the officers was at fault for not listing such an outbreak on his medical record. The Lord-Welches family had always been special to the Snicketts, and Collette was sorry to hear of another trial. But they always persevered, and Mrs. Lord-Welches was one of the strongest God-fearing ladies she knew. They would make it through that as well.

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Jamie Larson
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