Dragonfly by Jax Hill 

Christmas came barreling down on us pretty fast after the Dunkers’ return. I figured since we’d spent Thanksgiving at the casinos, Torstein would want us to have Christmas Eve at Sharky’s Bar or something. But he didn’t. In fact, he said, he would like very much if just a few of us could get away from everyone else for a bit. He was tired, he said. And lonely. How he could be lonely, I’m not sure. He was always surrounded by a lot of people.

He liked them; he wanted them to seek him out and share their stories with him. He always had time to stop and listen. And touch. There was this little autistic girl, Cyd, who came often to Story Hour with her dad. She didn’t care much about the stories, but she loved Torstein. She would latch onto him and hold onto him until her dad had to pry her away. One day after story hour, her dad had come running up to us and said Cyd was having a seizure — this was something new. She had a lot of troubles with the autism: poor eyesight, a speech impediment, poor social skills, but no seizures before.

We started hurrying to where she was; Maggie was phoning 911 on her cell phone — but people kept crowding around Torstein. They didn’t realize what was happening, and they wanted him to stop and talk. Some were reaching out for him ... and in the middle of all this, he came to a complete standstill and said, “Wait now, who just touched me?”

Who just touched me?! About a dozen people were trying to touch him! But he’s looking all around, high and low, and just behind us, between Maggie and Tawny, was a little old lady. The little old lady — the one whose groceries Torstein had carried back in the summer when we went to the shore! She had somehow pushed her way through this crowd ... and I guess she had touched him. And he had noticed! He was weird that way.

He reached out and hugged her, and said, “There you are. I thought it was you!”

She said, “You told me I’d be seeing a lot of you ... but I didn’t see you again. I had to find you.”

“I know,” he said. “And I still mean it, you will be seeing a lot of me. Very soon. Did they tell you when, how long you have?”

“Just a few weeks,” she said. “I just wanted to see you again. I thought if I could just grab hold of that crazy green coat...”

At this, he laughed, a deep, rumbling laugh. He was still holding onto her, his arms were still around her shoulders. “It’s all right,” he said. “I promise, you’ll be seeing me again, very soon. Maybe in just a few weeks.” He kissed her forehead, and her face lit up. Then he looked around and called out, “Ferdy! Can you make sure she gets a cab home? Be careful with her.”

Ferdy came and took the little old lady’s arm, and escorted her back toward the street. Meanwhile, Cyd’s dad had run ahead to where she was having the seizure, but when we got there, he looked up with tears in his eyes and said she was dead!

We could hear the wail of the ambulance in the distance now, but when he said those words ... I think our hearts dropped right to our feet. Maggie stumbled and grabbed onto me. Jack grabbed Torstein’s arm and dragged him forward toward where the little girl was lying so still on the ground, her daddy kneeling over her.

“Dead?” Torstein said. “I don’t think she’s dead.”

He and Jack knelt down beside her, and Torstein reached out and shook her by the shoulder. “Cyd,” he said. “Cyd, wake up.”

Her big green eyes fluttered open, and she was looking myopically up at Torstein. Her glasses had flown off, I guess while she was having a seizure, but she lifted her head and got a better look at his face, and a big smile came out on hers. She sat up and gave him a hug.

“Atta girl,” he said. “How are you, Cyd? You OK?”

She made a little purring noise which was about all she ever really said, and she sat in his lap until the paramedics came.

I don’t want to say stuff like that happened regularly, but it wasn’t unusual, either. And I think it was wearing Torstein out. He told Jack, Jazz and Pete that he wanted to spend Christmas with just us and the ladies, and maybe Franz and Bruiser — and of course, Ferdy. Ferdy would have to be there to pay for it. But Pete said Ferdy wouldn’t have to pay for anything, we could all come to his house. Phyllis would be glad to have us, he said. Ferdy would be welcome, of course, but it would be Pete’s pleasure to have us all for Christmas.

Ferdy was delighted, but he said, “Aren’t you going to do anything for your homeless friends or feed the hungry or something for Christmas?”

Torstein sighed and said, “I’m homeless. And I’m hungry. I think a lot of charities are doing nice things for the poor this time of year. They’ll be there waiting for us to serve them when the holiday is over. Maybe I’d like somebody to look after me for a day or two.”

Be a Facebook Fan