CHAPTER SIX HUNDRED and FORTY-THREE
“We can help you plant your garden,” Nash said.
“Why’re you helping me?” the voice asked. “You haven’t helped before.”
“We had school and stuff before,” Noelle said. “We didn’t have time to help. Now, we don’t have school or work. Our parents thought that since we have time, we could help our neighbors instead.”
“Plus, Mr. Matchel being so sick,” Nash said with a nod of his head. “He reminded us that people might need help.”
“And this uncle of yours?” the voice asked.
“Blane?” Nash asked. “Blane Lipson.”
“Your uncle is Blane Lipson?” the voice asked. “I know him.”
“Good,” Noelle said. “Then you should come.”
Noelle held out the business card that Ivy had painstakingly written out phone numbers and the offer of free treatments.
“I’d need help getting there,” the voice said with a sigh.
“That’s okay,” Nash said. “I can come over and help you get there.”
The dark eyes blinked and blinked again.
“I seen some activity right there,” the voice said.
“Do you know Jeraine?” Noelle asked.
“The R&B singer?” the voice asked. “Dr. Bumpy’s child?”
“What about him?” the voice asked.
“He’s going to be having concerts in the ballroom,” Noelle said.
“That old speak-easy?” the voice chuckled.
Noelle and Nash nodded in unison.
“They can’t have people, you know,” Noelle said. “But they are going to be lots of big names.”
“He said that anyone could listen to them practice,” Nash said.
“They’re broadcasting over the internet,” Noelle said.
“I’d have to feel a whole lot better to do that,” the voice said.
Nash and Noelle nodded.
“Do you have enough food?” Nash asked.
“They stopped meals,” Noelle said.
“I. . .” the voice said with a sigh.
The door swung open. Nash and Noelle saw a small elderly woman on the other side. She wore a brown housecoat with blue roses on it. The house was dark. Even though it was cold outside, they could feel the chill coming from inside the house. She had a scarf tied tight around her head.
“I could very much use some help,” the voice said. “I don’t know why but they turned off my power. I haven’t been getting meals. I. . .”
A fat tear ran down the woman’s face.
“I’m Virginia Sage,” the woman said. “Folks have always called me ‘Ginny.’”
The woman nodded.
“Would you mind very much if I went with you now?” Ginny asked. “I’m very cold.”
Denver Cereal continues tomorrow...
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