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164 Tamale Ridge by: Chuck Cusimano

“What’s that?” He said cupping his ear.

“Nothin,’” I hollered.

We arrived in front of a big two-story house and were greeted at the door by a middle-aged

woman wearing all white. She introduced herself as Minney Stevens. The sheriff told her who

we were and what we wanted.

“Can it wait until morning?” She asked.

“I’m afraid not Minney. This young feller will be gone with the sun.”

Minney led us to a room on the ground floor and opened the door. I looked at a sleeping man.

He was frail, thin and had a bushy beard. I was sure this was the man I had noticed looking and

staring at me! I got closer and was suddenly sad. It didn’t really look like Uncle Robert but I

knew it was him.

“He is my uncle. It’s my Uncle Robert,” I said, with a lump in my throat.

“I hadn’t seen or heard from him in a few years. I thought maybe he was dead.”

“I’m afraid he will be soon, son.” The voice came from behind me.

I turned around and the doctor was standing behind us.

“What’s wrong with him?” I asked.

“He’s suffering from consumption and fatigue. Not to mention malnutrition,” said the doctor.

“Is there anything you can do for him? I’ll pay”.

The doctor interrupted me and said.

“The only thing he wanted was to see you before he died. I need to wake him up if I can.”

The doctor handed me a huge wad of money.

“I found this in his pants pocket. I don’t understand how a man could be so self disciplined to

have this much money and still nearly starve to death,” he said.

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