Caring for the Elderly
by Janice Daugharty
Copyright 2010 Janice Daugharty
First published in Snake Nation Review
That Hun, she have me standing out here in the cold by the hardroad, waiting on some ole gal cousin don't know her head from a hole in the ground. I give her about three minutes, then start on
around the house to the front, and here she come up the dirt road, dust just aflying behind that little white car. After I tell her on the phone not to come that road--Come on Dayo Street, I say. D-A-Y-O Street.
Big ole fat gal, another one of Hun cousins, is setting on the right side. Bout fill up the car, that ole fat gal. Uh huh, expecting me to cook for em. Well, I ain't. I tell Hun that when she say they coming this morning. Say, I hopes they ain't expecting no big meal out of me, and me overloaded as it is. Toting and fetching the livelong day for some ticky old lady, just so she don't wind up in no
Old Folks' Home. White people's a mess!
The least one, the one doing the driving, park her car next to the sycamore tree, get out and go to waving at me. Wind blowing the dead leaves like scraps of papersack, blowing her bleached blond hair from the back. She short, have a red face.
"I tell you I be waiting on Dayo Street," I say, cutting across the yard to the screened front porch with my arms crossed over my pink sweater and gray sweatshirt. "Standing out there bout to freeze to death," I say low.