JUNE AND THE OLD FOOL

June Stevens had just opened the living room drapes and was about to sit down on an overstuffed chesterfield chair near the picture window looking out onto her front lawn, when she heard someone hammering away outside.  It was early Sunday morning; most people slept in, but not Charlie Burstyck; he was on top of his two story house across the street mending his roof that had been partially ripped off by a storm a few days before.  The old fool, she thought.  Only he would be up so early disrupting everyone’s rest.  And the man is 82, you’d think he'd know better.  He’s going to fall off and break his silly neck.

She stood for a moment with her first coffee, feeling the warmth of the mug in her arthritic hands and watched Charlie attempting to hold a duroid shingle in place and nail it to the roof.  She thought, times like that it would be nice to have three hands – two for holding something in place and one to secure it with.  Just as she began turning away from the window, she gasped in horror when she saw Charlie somehow loose his balance and start sliding down the other side of the steep roof.  She could see the hammer in his hand and his finger tips gripping the top of the roof and then the hammer dropped and he disappeared.

“Oh dear!” she cried.  "That can’t be good!"  Placing her mug on a small table standing next to her chair, the coffee sloshing over the brim, she grabbed the telephone and dialed 911.  When a woman on the other end of the line answered she quickly said, “Poor old Charlie Burstyck just fell off his roof and he’s going to need a doctor!  His address is 743 Belair Drive!  I’d better go see how he is!”  Before the woman could ask her anymore questions, June had hung up the phone and ran out the front door.

Charlie had cursed when his foot caught the edge of the duroid shake and he lost his footing.  Trying to save himself from sliding down the steep roof, he’d barely managed to grab the top of it!  But he was an old man and didn’t have the strength he used to when he was much younger.  Even at age 70, he may have held on to the roof and pulled himself back up but not now.  When he finally had to let go he tried grabbing a hold of anything that might be sticking up from the roof but there was nothing and as he rapidly neared the bottom edge, in desperation, he thought he might be able to grab the eaves trough, which surprisingly enough, he did!

However, with the combined weight of his body and the speed it was traveling, the brackets holding the gutter in place began popping away from the house and for a moment he looked like Tarzan swinging from a jungle vine until it stopped and flung him into a well manicured thick evergreen tree growing beside the back of the house.  Arms and legs flailing, Charlie Burstyck struck his head on the side of the house and landed on his back in the garden, which was growing between the house and the flat-stone walkway leading to the patio.

When June arrived, she thought old Charlie was dead; and he should have been; blood was pouring from a deep gash on the side of his head and he wasn’t moving.  However, when she reached him, she heard him groan and wheeze, gasping for breath.  She knelt down beside him and took one of his old gnarled hands, which had numerous age spots on it and worriedly said, “Charlie, Charlie…are you alright Charlie?”

After managing to catch his breath somewhat he managed to gasp, “It’ll take more than a little fall like that to kill me.  Just don’t sit there woman; help me stand up!”

“No,” she said.  “You don’t look too good Charlie.  You’ve got a nasty looking gash on the side of your head that’s going to need some stitches and who knows what else you might have broke from a fall like that.  My gosh; you’re lucky to be alive.”

As he tried to push himself off the ground, he collapsed and said, “Maybe I’ll just lie here for a few more moments if you don’t mind.”

“You’re not going anywhere Charlie; I phoned 911 and I can already hear the ambulance coming this way.”

“Now why do you go and do a dang thing like that?” he exclaimed.  “I don’t need no ambulance!  I’ll be just fine soon as I get my air back and I’m standing on my own two feet!  Now you just go on out to the front and tell them I’m just fine.”

“I’m not going anywhere Charlie and you just lie there and be as still as you can.  You may have hurt more than just your old fool head.”

When the ambulance attendants arrived; they immediately ushered June aside and began carefully checking Charlie over to see how badly injured he was.  They were asking him questions like if he knew his name, do you feel any pain anywhere other than your head, to which he replied, “Of course I know who the hell I am and how the hell do you think I feel.  I’m 82 years old and I just fell off the top of the goddamned roof!  I hurt like hell all over!  Now if you’ll just help me up, you can all be on your way!”

“While the attendant was checking to see if Charlie had broken any bones, he told the other two attendants to get the stretcher and said, “I’m sorry Mr. Burstyck but you have to come with us; there’s a good possibility that you’ve got a concussion and you may have injured something inside you.  A doctor will have to examine you more closely and there’s a good chance you’ll need some X-rays.”  Charlie was about to protest but the attendant just said, “No, no; you’re coming with us and that’s all there is to it.”

As the attendants carefully loaded Charlie onto the stretcher he moaned in pain.  When June told them that he lived alone, she asked if she could come along to the hospital and they told her it would be a good idea.  So as they were loading him into the ambulance, June wove her way through a group of curious people on the sidewalk and got some things from her house.  When she climbed into the back of the ambulance, the ambulance attendants keeping a close eye on Charlie, she sat beside him and took his hand and began gently caressing it.  The siren was still wailing as the ambulance turned into the hospital’s large parking lot and headed towards the Emergency Entrance, which was located at the back of the big grey building.

Upon examination, Charlie Burstyck looked worse than his actual injuries.  His head was wrapped in a big white bandage and he had a large reddish bruise from his right eye to halfway down his cheek.  Other than the slight concussion, multiple bruises, cuts and scratches on his body, he was in fine shape.  However, just to be on the safe side and because of his age, the doctor kept him overnight in the hospital.  Heavily sedated, the covers tucked in around him, June Stevens looked down at Charlie who was snoring slightly.  Taking his old bony hand once again and tenderly caressing it she whispered, “Way up on top of a roof.  What do you think you were doing up there?  You could have killed yourself. You crazy old fool.”

One of Charlie’s eyes suddenly blinked open and he said, “I heard that and I’ll have you know…” his words trailing off as he drifted into a deep sleep.  To be continued...

Lenny's Murder/Mystery CONTEST will be posted soon, since the first draft of the short story (approx. 10,000 words) has now been completed.   The last episode will expose the thief and dastardly murderer and of course there will be clues as the story unravels for the reader to figure out which person killed Sir Rodney Broderick Charlesworth.  I'll explain the details fully on how to win this contest the day before I post the Blog.  However, I'm still in need of MORE READERS before posting this murder/mystery, so please share this Blog with your Internet and email friends.  In order to enter this contest, you must subscribe to my Newsletter at the top of the Blog.  It's very easy to do and you can take yourself off the mailing list whenever you choose.

Thank you for reading my short stories and hopefully this is one that will keep you anxiously wanting to know which character killed Sir Rodney Broderick Charlesworth - poor man - what a terrible way to go!