Installment #38 A Semblance of Normal

     Two weeks later found Mark back in St. Louis.  Marge had not been down for over a week.  Tucker was on his own except for the nurse 3 days a week.  Marge had bought a big calendar and installed it in the doorway over a set of scales.  It was for notes to be made when anyone came in.  Once a week the nurse put his pills in the pill reminder and twice a day Tucker took them.  She changed his pain patch every fourth day.  Appointments were written so everyone knew what was going on.  He stood beside Cyndi as they looked at the calendar.  They were looking at the weights that were written there.  Cyndi smiled.  Tucker smiled.  Cyndi placed her finger on the first weight.

     “When I met you your weight was 203.  Right after the radiation was finished it was 164.  Look Tucker!  Now you are 183!  That has to mean something.  Maybe the radiation killed your cancer.  Maybe it is going to be alright.”

     “Maybe.  I feel really good.  No pain at all.  I have a doctor’s appointment tomorrow and Marge said I could go alone.  Just one problem.  I told Mark I would not drive until he comes back and checks me out, so will you take me?”

     “Sure, Tucker.  Maybe we could go get a bagel when we are done?  Let’s take Cleo to the river.” 

     Tucker picked up the leash, but Cleo walked very close to Cynthia as they picked their way down the levee and to the trail below.

     Cynthia picked a leaf off the Cottonwood tree, folded it in half and pulled it taut.  She blew through it and Tucker was surprised to hear the  loud shrill whistle.  He laughed.

     “Hey! I forgot about that!  I can do it as good as you, maybe even better.  You are a good teacher.”  He walked to the cottonwood tree and  very soon Tucker was making whistle sounds that could be heard all across the river.

     Yes, life was good.  Life was good and he had a dog on a leash and a woman beside him and he could whistle.  He smiled at the dog.  He smiled at the woman.  And he smiled at God in his heavens who had handed all this to him, just because he was Tucker Fuhrman, the big tall German from St. Louis.