Wednesday, September 28, 2011
He replied, "Ernest J. Pegram," dressed in a pair of think overalls, wool hat and gloves.
"Okay. My name is Charles."
"Good to meet you. I have problems with my back, sometimes. This snow is heavy. Want me to finish shoveling the snow for you - for a small fee?"
After a quick thought, I replied, "No, I think I can mange it. Thanks anyway."
Later that morning, after I had shoveled the driveway, front porch and steps and part of the sidewalk; I returned indoors to fix myself a glass of Jim Beam bourbon - to warm my bones from the harsh winter storm - of course. The ringing of the door bell interrupted my private time with my favorite drink and television show. Peeping out of the window, I noticed Ernest J. Pegram standing on my front porch still dressed in overalls with a wool cap and gloves. I opened the front door with glass in hand and gave him a warm greeting.
"Hey! I noticed that you didn't finish shoveling the snow from the sidewalk. I can still do it for a small fee so I can buy some food," Ernest J. Pegram offered.
Now, standing on the porch and feeling my pant pockets with my free hand and sipping my bourbon with the other hand, I retrieved a few bills and handed them to my next door neighbor. I said, "Here, take this and don't worry about the rest of the sidewalk. The sun will melt it."
Turning to enter the house, I suddenly heard a loud, "Thump!" Shocked, I noticed that Ernest J. Pegram had fallen off of my front porch - face down into a foot of snow - with shovel in hand. I tried not to laugh.
"Oops! Are you okay?" I asked, taking another gulp of bourbon.
Bringing himself to his knees and then to his boot covered feet, my neighbor replied, "Yeah, I'm okay, Charles."
"This is the first time someone has fallen off of my front porch," I offered.
So, Ernest J. Pegram stumbled to his house never to be seen again until months later. Rising early one Saturday morning, I opened the living room draperies for the day and saw several cars parked in front of my house. I said aloud, "I haven't seen this many cars in front of the house since Daddy died." Moments later, Ernest J. Pegram was escorted to one of the unmarked police cars with head hung low.
"I wonder what happened?" I asked myself. "He may have tried to press charges against me and the cops came and found drugs in his house - or he didn't pay his child support," I mumbled toward the picture window. Well anyway....
Until next week. Keep praising His name.
P.S. I now have a photo blog at http://www.ccl3.blogspot.com. Check it out and let me know your thoughts. And, as always - my books are available at www.xlibris.com.