The next day, I went to see her sidewalk again, but she wasn't there. Some other people, unfamiliar people, had come out to see the house. I asked them why they had just walked in and out.
"Uh, kid, we flip old properties and sell 'em."
Another renovator joined in to save the other, who clearly wasn't good with kids. "Yeah, this one's a little broke, but we'll fix it. And maybe you'll get a new neighbor here soon."
I furrowed my brow in deep thought. "But I already have a neighbor. This is Mrs. Puckett's house."
They glanced at each other in an awkward silence. The first one eventually came down to my level and rested a hand on my shoulder. "Kiddo, Mrs. P's not comin' home. I'm sorry."
I watched them get into a car and drive away before running to the house. I managed to hold off my tears until I got to my mom. "Is it true?" I blubbered, as she kneeled down to comfort me, enveloping me in a loving embrace.
"Is what true, baby?" My mom asked.
I propped myself up on her body with my arms so that my eyes would meet hers. "Is Mrs. Puckett not coming home?"
"Oh, my sweet," my mom replied, pulling me close again. "Mrs. Puckett was very sick, but she's in a better place now. I'm sorry."
YOU ARE READING
The Woman Who Tended the Sidewalk
Short StoryWhen I asked her what she was doing gardening in the road, the old lady shot me a sly grin and bent down with effort to hand me a glass of lemonade. "I've gotta tend the sidewalk," she whispered. This made her proud, to know that she was the one ten...
