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Lillyans

Page 9

by Oliver Letz


  Three nights and three days Lilly Ann sat at Taylor’s bed. Edie May came by every now and then to check on his condition. On the third day she advised to slowly reduce the dosage of the sleep-inducing drug to give Taylor a chance to regain conciseness more frequently. Most times when he opened his eyes he just groaned in pain and quickly fell back into the soothing darkness. His question from the first night remained the only words he spoke.

  Visitors came and left throughout the days and nights to keep Lilly Ann company, bring her food, brew some tea or just to see the man who had fallen out of the sky and lived. Fritz Neuwirt was one of the most frequent guests, always bringing some favorite dish for his granddaughter, sitting with her recalling John Taylor’s hilarious first night in Flugerton at the Schwyzer House.

  “I think he knew he would be back,” he tried to keep the conversation going, “but I don’t think this is what he had in mind.”

  “I knew it too,” Lilly Ann said softly. “I guess he couldn’t leave and he couldn’t stay. It’s a dilemma that can tear a man apart.”

  “His friends made it out all right,” Fritz added, “They’ve been seen tracking south so I guess they are trying to make it back to where they came from. They probably think John didn’t make it. I wonder why he didn’t use his parachute.”

  “Jack said there was a fire,” Lilly Ann mused, “who knows.”

  They both sat quietly for a moment with their eyes closed, trying to get back to the lighter beginning of their conversation.

  “I can’t feel my legs,” Taylor’s cracking voice startled both of his hosts, “My whole body hurts but I can’t feel my legs. Where am I?”

  “Good morning Taylor, John Taylor,” Lilly Ann made an effort to keep a light tone in her voice, “you are back in Flugerton. I am Lilly Ann, do you remember? This is my house.”

  Taylor’s eyes got back some of their clarity but his face was still contorted from pain.

  “Yes, Lilly Ann, I remember,” he was fighting for words before sinking back to sleep.

  “I can’t feel my legs,” he repeated groaning with his eyes closed, “are they still there?”

  “Let me see,” Lilly Ann couldn’t help but teasing him, “one, two, three, four,” she lifted the blanket and took a peek underneath, “five. Yep, all there. Sorry, we had to undress you,” she giggled, “your flight suit was in shreds and we thought you wouldn’t object for us to apply some ointment to your burns.”

  “Give the man a break,” her grandfather scolded her laughingly, “hasn’t he suffered enough? I’ll leave you two alone. Don’t want to get in between this one.” Still laughing he retreated out of the house.

  “Do you make a joke of everything?” Taylor frowned at her.

  “Oh no,” Lilly Ann protested, “I only joke about really important stuff. I get very serious about the little things like cleaning my toenails or tying my shoelaces. Are you hungry?”

  Taylor was looking at her with a mixture of annoyance and appreciation, he wasn’t quite sure yet which one he was wanting to keep the upper hand. Amazingly though, for a moment there he had forgotten all about the questionable shape his body was in and he was able to formulate a clear thought without having to fight against passing out again.

  Food would have been furthest from his mind in his current condition but for some reason at the mention of it he did feel hungry.

  “How long have I been out?” he was wondering.

  “A few days,” Lilly Ann answered vaguely.

  “How did I get here? Are my friends all right? Did a doctor examine me? Do you even have a doctor here, or a hospital?” The more Taylor grew awake the more an avalanche of questions stormed through his head. “How is my airplane?”

  Lilly Ann gently put her index finger across his lips.

  “No more questions for now,” she said softly but determined, “you are safe, your friends are safe, that is all that counts. You look hungry,” she changed the subject, “Grandpa brought a wonderful chicken soup with little meat dumplings. That’ll get us some of your strength back.”

  “I need to see a doctor,” Taylor insisted, “I need to know what’s wrong with my legs.”

  “First you eat, then you sleep some more and then we’ll talk about everything. I promise.” Lilly Ann put a deliciously fragrant bowl of soup on the nightstand and got ready to feed Taylor.

  “Thank you, but I can eat myself,” he pouted. Intense pain shooting through his bruised arm and shoulder quickly ended this short-lived attempt at regaining some control. He sank back into the pillows defeated. The soup still smelled enticing.

  “Be a good boy and open up wide,” Lilly Ann had a devilish good time feeding and teasing Taylor and even though he would not ever have admitted it he did not feel so reluctant anymore either.

  The warmth of the soup and the love and care it was prepared and delivered with did wonders to Taylor’s physical and mental condition. He forgot for a moment all about his unanswered questions and his uncertain future and just lost himself in the good feeling that permeated his body. Lilly Ann had not even placed the spoon back into the empty soup bowl before Taylor slipped back into a peaceful slumber.

  Lilly Ann had pulled a little red divan next to Taylor’s bed and had made herself comfortable with a big pillow and a soft quilt. She was pleasantly surprised when the first interruption of her sleep was the morning sun peeking through the half closed drapes and a gentle rap at the front door. Her face was caught between a yawn and a smile when she looked upon her guest sound asleep and breathing easily. Her feet found the slippers they were searching for as she got up to greet the first visitor of the day.

  “I brought some fresh bread for breakfast and a bowl of strawberries,” Edie May said and kissed Lilly Ann on the cheek, “you must be hungry and our friend needs to keep his strength up too.”

  “Am I glad to see you,” Lilly Ann hugged the other woman and added, “Taylor was starting to ask a lot of questions yesterday but all I could do was calm him with some of grandpa’s chicken soup. He fell asleep right afterwards.”

  “That’s good,” Edie May said confidently, “he ate, slept and his mind is working. I think we are in good shape.”

  They both went back into the house and started to prepare breakfast. Taylor awoke to the sound of dishes and kettles being moved about somewhere in the house and an enticing smell of fresh bread and herbal tea was lingering in the air. The screaming pain from the days before had given way to a dull throbbing in his head and back and the burns and bruises all over his body started to itch more than sting, all in all not a terrible shape to be in after jumping out of a burning airplane three days earlier. His mood however came crushing down at the first thought of his legs. He still did not have any feeling or control from his pelvis down. Panic began to spread through his thoughts.

  “Oh, you are up, good morning,” Lilly Ann cheerfully rushed into the room and opened the window drapes, “How is Geronimo feeling today?”

  Taylor looked at her with raised eyebrows as if to suggest that she had lost her mind.

  “Of course, how could you know” she explained at the unspoken question mark on his face, “your tale is all over town. Jack and Joe Jack heard your battle scream as you jumped from the plane. Geronimo!” she screamed at the top of her lungs until the word turned into uncontrollable laughter. “You are a strange cookie, John Taylor. You’ll have to tell me what it means some time.”

  Taylor did not know if he should join Lilly Ann in her laughing fit or if he should throw pillows at her. How could she poke fun at him at the sight of his obvious misery? Despite the nagging feeling that he was betrayed some well deserved empathy or even pity he could not help himself but chuckle at her outrageous display of disrespect for the distress he found himself in.

  “Now this is a death bed I could get used to,” an unfamiliar voice said from the door to the hallway, “we have not yet been introduced properly and if we wait for this laughing bag it might never happen
,” she pointed at Lilly Ann who was still having a ball with herself.

  “My name is Edie May,” the woman said and added with an ever so faint wink of her eye, “I took your clothes off.”

  She waited if her words had any impact on Taylor at all.

  “Edie May is our keeper of the Lilly-Book,” Lilly Ann boasted only earning herself more raised eyebrows.

  “I think this has time, dear,” Edie May changed the subject, “John, are you up to some breakfast?”

  Taylor didn’t quite know how to respond. It seemed that whenever some explanation was in order to shine light on the confusing situation he was in, the subject of food got in the way of satisfying his curiosity. However, it seemed as if he would have ample time to sort everything out so why not follow their lead for now.

  “Well, Edie May, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I do have burning questions with no answers as of yet, but if you ladies say it is time to eat, let’s eat.” Taylor tried to be on his best manners. Edie May seemed to have some higher status in this community and her more reserved demeanor stood in stark contrast to Lilly Ann’s little girl antics. He almost felt as if he had arrived at the grown up table and he liked that.

  Bread and butter, ham and honey, strawberries and tea appeared on a serving tray next to Taylor’s bed. The tableware was an eclectic collection fitting the house and its owner. No two pieces of porcelain or silverware were the same and some of them looked as if they were museum pieces from long forgotten centuries. The arrangement of plates, saucers and utensils on the tray exuded an artistic quality akin to still life paintings from the great masters of old.

  For the second time in as many days Taylor felt the undeniable positive effect the food had on his general wellbeing. The tea was rich in aroma and had a strong tart aftertaste that reminded him of root brews he had enjoyed while visiting with natives in Alaska. Every sip he took made him more awake and alert. Layers of veil seemed to be pulled back from his clouded mind every minute he spent listening to the two women in his company talk about everyday things. It somehow struck him odd that no one would turn their attention to his dilemma or to find a way out of it but he felt warm and protected in their presence so he tried to relax and just go with it.

  A man can only eat so much or stand female conversation for so long, so John Taylor could not help himself but put an end to the lovely time they were having.

  “How did I get here?” he asked suddenly, “I remember jumping out of the plane but nothing until I woke up here. I was sure I would be gone before I hit the ground. I don’t understand.”

  Lilly Ann and Edie May exchanged a quick glance and with an almost unnoticeable shrug of her shoulders Edie May answered, “Jack and Joe Jack saw you fly off and then the lightning strike and they saw you come back and fall out of the plane.”

  All three of them felt the mood change in the room. It was as if a cold damp cloud had wandered into the room and caught a hold of them. Lilly Ann felt a great temptation to clear out the air with a joke but just for once she decided to let the situation run its natural course. Maybe if all the questions were asked and all the answers were given they could continue working on a solution just as they did since the moment Taylor had been brought in.

  “Who are Jack and Joe Jack?” Taylor was curious, “Why did they follow us and we didn’t see them?”

  “They didn’t follow you,” Lilly Ann explained, “they are always working in the woods, cutting logs for their sculptures. They saw you when you first arrived and they saw you leave. When they heard your scream falling out of the plane they went looking for you.”

  “You fell into a fresh stack of branches and tree bark they had left there a few days earlier. It must have broken your fall,” Edie May continued, “They saw that you were unconscious but alive so they built a makeshift stretcher and carried you here. When they brought you into town Lilly recognized you and told them to bring you to Lilly Ann. Not much to it really.”

  “What do you mean, not much to it,” Taylor looked at her incredulously, “this is a bona fide miracle. How can I ever thank Jack and Joe Jack or you two, for that matter. I owe them and you my life.” The drama and excitement had completely wiped away his calm and relaxed attitude from only a minute before.

  “I guess you could see it like that,” Edie May acknowledged, “but we would rather you didn’t. You see, there was a time when a man or woman who saved another’s life became responsible for their wellbeing and for all their deeds. That is a big burden to carry around. How about we say that we all did what we thought was the right thing to do given the circumstances and leave it at that. Things might get very complicated otherwise.”

  Her words were like the soft sand on the beach subduing the raging wave that crashed onto the shore. It took Taylor a few seconds to absorb what he just had heard. His face brightened and an imaginative mind could almost say they saw a smile play around his lips.

  “I remember saying the exact words more than once to men and women I had the opportunity to help. I just never thought I would find myself on the receiving end of them.” He nodded in understanding. This thought he could live with, funny how that works. “Thank you for tending to my burns and scrapes and of course for putting me up and feeding me. I will have to find a way to repay you somehow.” He could not completely let go of the idea of quid-quo-pro yet.

  “I could break my car so you can fix it again,” Lilly Ann suggested only half jokingly.

  “I don’t think we will have to go that far to satisfy John’s desire for remuneration,” Edie May cautioned smilingly, “but there is something, John Taylor, that you could do for us.”

  “Anything,” Taylor said eagerly, “just name it.”

  “Hmm, in a little while,” Edie May wanted to get all the open issues out of the way first, “how are your legs doing?”

  “I don’t know,” Taylor was getting agitated again. “I can’t feel them and I can’t move them. I guess my back was hurt worse than it appears from the outside. I need to get to a hospital and under the care of a good surgeon quickly.”

  “This might be a bit tricky,” Edie May responded cautiously, “we don’t really have physicians around here at all. We also do not have the means to transport you off the mountain safely and quickly. The other question would be where to bring you in the first place. The next suitable hospital might be hundreds of miles away.”

  “Are you saying that I am stuck here without proper medical care?” Taylor’s feelings whirled between anger and hopelessness, “This place seems so happy and healthy and civilized and you are telling me you have no doctors?”

  “That is true,” Edie May was trying to make herself understood, “you see, we are happy and healthy and for the most part civilized, that’s why we don’t need doctors. If one of us happens to injure themselves once in a while they usually heal very quickly.”

  “It’s true,” Lilly Ann insisted, “another good feeling meal or two and you’ll be good as new.”

  “Is that so?” Taylor felt the urge to leash out at somebody, “This is no scraped knee that you can blow a kiss on and it’s all good. This is a broken back and I don’t know about you, but I sure don’t know many people running around with broken backs that miraculously healed by themselves.”

  “Well, there is Trevor and Jimmy who fell off a cliff, Mariah who’s horse bucked in a storm, and...” Lilly Ann’s voice was trailing off as she saw that her list of names did not have the desired effect on Taylor. He was furious.

  “May I ask you something, John,” Edie May’s soft voice had an instant effect of deescalating the emotional roller coaster that was raging in the room, “how many people do you know who broke their back and walked after being under the care of a good surgeon?”

  The question struck Taylor like a bolt of lightning. His eyes grew big and his face turned white as paper.

  “None,” he said with a lifeless voice, “none. I am so sorry, it’s my own damn fault that I am in
this situation and I blame you of all people, who saved my life and care for me. I am so sorry.”

  He turned his face to the wall in a vain attempt to hide the fear in his face.

  “Don’t be sorry on our behalf,” Edie May said calmly, “you are young, you are strong, you are smart and you are alive. It’s all up to you how your life will unfold from here on.”

  Taylor turned his head to look her in the eyes and nodded slowly.

  “About that thing that you could do for us,” Edie May got up from her chair signaling that her work was done for the day. There was a wicket twinkle playing in her eyes as she added walking out the door, “Dance with us for summer solstice. Sing with rapture and dance like a dervish, would you?”

  Her giggling when she walked down the hall was so out of character that Taylor couldn’t help but succumb to the smile and the feeling of hope radiating from his stomach.

  “Is she for real?” he asked Lilly Ann.

  “As real as they come,” she answered tucking him in and blowing a kiss on his forehead. “You’ll feel better after you sleep a bit.”

  Lilly Ann picked up the tray with the breakfast dishes and tip toeing she left the room.

  The next morning Taylor felt almost his old self again. Lilly Ann had spent the night in her own bedroom upstairs confident that her house guest would be all right on his own. The rain was still falling on and off and distant thunder told a tale of storms raging higher up the mountains. The soothing splatter of water drops against the bedroom window made the fact that he was confined to this small room almost bearable.

  Lilly Ann chirped her “Good Morning” into the room on her way to the kitchen to get breakfast ready. She came back a moment later to ask if he felt up to scrambled eggs with ham, which Taylor gladly agreed to.

  “One more thing,” he added hesitantly, “do I smell…”

  “Oh, don’t worry about that,” Lilly Ann interrupted him, “we’ll get you into a bathtub soon enough.”

  “Thank you, that is very helpful,” Taylor answered with a half embarrassed, half amused smile, “What I wanted to ask before you interrupted me was, do I smell coffee? I guess you are right though, I do smell a bit ripe, don’t I.”

  For the first time Taylor saw Lilly Ann for a moment lose her lighthearted cheerfulness. Her face turned an interesting shade of red and it took her several tries to get “I’m so sorry.” out. The moment passed quickly and next thing she was almost on the floor holding her sides, laughing uncontrollably. Still laughing and repeating, “I’m so sorry.” she ran out of the room. She was back a moment later triumphantly holding a small dented metal can in her hand with a faded almost unreadable label.

  “I found this on the cupboards when I first moved into this house,” she said very pleased with herself, “I thought it was some sort of conserved food from way back when the first settlers came. I never threw it out because I thought it was very secretive and exciting and of course in case someone would claim it as their heritage. When you mentioned coffee I remembered that the label reads ‘Illy. Espresso Coffee. Made in Italy’. It is still sealed. Wanna try it?”

  Taylor’s eyes lit up at the sight of the unexpected treasure. He could still remember the first time he had had that kind of coffee in the southern regions during his stint in the armed forces.

  “Did you by any chance also find a strange looking aluminum pot that can be unscrewed in the middle with a metal filter in it?” he asked hoping against hope.

  “Yes, how’d you know?” Lilly Ann asked surprised.

  “That’s the pot to cook Espresso coffee,” he explained, “I’ll show you.”

  Lilly Ann went back to the kitchen to find the pot that Taylor was talking about. She hadn’t seen that thing in almost ten years but she knew exactly where she had put it. Behind the jar of dried fennel under a leather-bound journal that she had written in her Sudbury years was a wooden box with old kitchen utensils. She was absolutely positive to find the pot under a pile of bent and tarnished silver ware.

  “Ha,” she exclaimed proud of her chaos controlling genius mind, “don’t anybody ever tell me again that I am not organized.”

  She picked up the pot and ran to show it to Taylor.

  “That’s it!” He was excited like a little boy on Christmas morning.

  He watched Lilly Ann carefully peel back the plastic lid from the coffee can and pull the aluminum lid open. A small hiss of air rushing into the can told them that the vacuum seal had not been broken before. The rich aroma of dark roasted, finely ground coffee instantly filled the room. Taylor deeply breathed in the intoxicating fragrance. He intently watched Lilly Ann as she for the first time experienced the overwhelming sensation that tantalized her senses. She just stood there, her eyes closed, lost in the moment, taking in the full sensory onslaught until she was able to make up her mind.

  “Hmm,” she purred softly, “this is nice. What do we do with it now?”

  “Put some of the coffee grinds into the filter and press it down. Fill the lower part of the pot half with water and screw it together. Then put it on the stove until you hear it steam and sputter. Then you can pour the coffee into small cups. Voila, Italian espresso.”

  “I’ll be right back,” Lilly Ann said skipping out of the room.

  A few minutes later she came back with two small cups that looked as if they were borrowed from a child’s toy tea party set, filled with steaming hot black aromatic liquid.

  “Be careful not to burn your tongue,” Taylor cautioned, “this really smells exquisite. Thank you.”

  He slowly brought the cup to his lips and loudly slurped the drink. The rich body of coffee taste exploded in his mouth extracting a satisfied moan from him. Lilly Ann followed his example. Her eyes bulged as she tried to decipher the unusual complexity of taste elements that danced on her tongue. It took even longer this time for her to know if she liked the sensation. She decided that she loved it.

  “Whew, oh my goat,” she exclaimed, “I can’t believe I had this in my kitchen all these years and a man had to fall out of the sky to show me. This is wonderful. What a truly royal treat! Thank you, John Taylor,” she added lovingly.

  They sat quietly taking their time to enjoy every sip of the invigorating drink to the fullest.

  “Tell me something,” Taylor finally broke the silence, “I can’t shake the feeling that Edie May could just zap me with a magic wand or something to heal my back and my legs. Am I right? And if so, why would she not just do it?”

  Lilly Ann looked long into his eyes wondering how much he wanted to understand already.

  “You know how it is,” she decided to take it one step at a time, “you give a man a fish and he eats for a day,” and with her very own understanding of logic and reality she concluded, “you teach a man how to fish, and you’ll never see him again.” There it was again, the giggling and skipping and screaming through the hallways.

  “What?” was all Taylor could get out. He knew that there was a method to this madness and he was determined to find out what it was.

  “Cause he will be out fishing with his buddies all the time,” she lectured running out of the room.

 

  Chapter 8: Sixty-Eight Seconds

 

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