“I have to go out for a while and Bob will watch you.” Mom looked us over. “No fighting and go to bed early. I’ll be home soon.” Dad backed the car out of the driveway and they disappeared around the corner.
Bob had watched us before but, he couldn’t control the weather on this sticky, June evening.
Like many, we had no air conditioning, so we opened windows, pulled back curtains, and hoped for a breeze. For me, the hope was in vain. Sleep eluded me, no matter how hard I tried. The humidity rose to near unbearable levels and all my desperate tossing and turning brought no relief. My discomfort compounded my fatigue and all I wanted was to sleep.
After what seemed an eternity, I saw headlights in the drive and knew my relief was near. Mom could make everything better. She would fix it.
I flew up the stairs and met her at the door, enshrouded in misery and sobbing.
“What is it?” She knelt to my level. “Are you sick?”
“I’m too hot. I can’t sleep ‘cause it’s too hot.”
Mom smiled. “We can do something about that.” She took the large, box fan from the family spot in the living room and placed it in my doorway. Then, Mom opened my door to the garage and let the cooler air flow in.
I settled into my bed, just as the thunderstorm hit. Cool rain drove away the humidity and I was able to relax.
“Would you like to hear a story?”
I was far too old for a bedtime fable, but I nodded and she sat on my bed.
Sleep took me long before the end of the tale, but one thing stays clear in my mind. She never even took off her heels.
Bill Bartlett lives in Belton with his family.