Good Deeds

   In my travels, I try to help people on the road whenever I can. I used to think that doing a good deed required remaining anonymous. If anyone knew about it, it didn’t count. Then I though, “count for what?” It’s hard to remain anonymous if you’re helping someone because they know you’re helping them.
   I don’t go out of my way to offend people, some times it just happens. Usually from operating mouth without engaging brain. Sometimes I only open my mouth to switch feet.
   So here I am driving down the interstate on the last day of the four-day weekend, going to South Carolina when I see a woman holding a child standing on the side of the road behind her car. I noticed the left rear tire was flat and I pulled over in front of her car. I told kitty that I was going out to change a tire for a woman, as I slowly pulled my jacket out from under him. He yawned his approval, and I put on my jacket and hat and grabbed my gloves. Most of the time I forget my gloves and have to wash my hands after changing a tire for someone. I walked back to the woman and asked if I could assist. She told me she had a flat tire. I tapped on the trunk lid and told her, “Pop the boot and I’ll change the tire for you.”
   She replied, “That’s so kind of you, hold.” She tried to hand me the child.
“I don’t hold children.” I told her.
“What!” She asked.
“If it doesn’t use a litter box, I don’t hold it.”
“She, not it!” the woman told me. She went into the car and pressed a button to pop the boot and came out.
   I started moving things to get to the bottom of the trunk, found the spare tire and jack, lug wrench and jack handle.
   She asked, “Don’t you have any children?”
“God, I hope not!” I replied without thinking.
“Don’t you like children?” She asked.
   I wanted to tell her, “Roasted with sweet potatoes and corn bread stuffing.” But I thought that wouldn’t be wise. “My ex-wife had children and grand children, that was close enough for me.” I told her as I found the correct place to position the jack.
“And you never held any of them?” she asked.
   I could see I wasn’t going come out ahead on this topic and wanted to get this tire changed with the speed of a pit crew. “I always tried to avoid it.”
“You never had to baby sit or change them?” She persisted.
“Watched the grand daughter while she was secured in the crib for short periods, that didn’t involve holding. When she started to smell bad I put a box of baking soda in her crib. Crap these nuts are tight.”
“You say that like having children is a bad thing.” She said.
“It’s not for everyone.” It was clear to me that I wasn’t going to win, maybe I’ll get hit by a truck, I thought. “It would be wise to stand on the other side of the car.” I pointed at the fog line. “That’s how far someone has to wander from his lane to kill us.” I told her. “I’m expendable, you need to survive to tell the police what happened.”
   I got the tire changed and stowed everything where I had found it, told her not to delay buying a new tire and have it put on, wished her safe travels and attempted to make a break for my truck.
“What do I owe you?” She asked.
“Nothing. I don’t except money for helping people.” I told her. “If you feel you need to, buy a small teddy bear and give it to a police officer, he’ll know what to do with it.” I gave her my card and we went on our way.
   I thought about our encounter, I couldn’t believe she wanted to hand her child to a strange man, and I’m sure some of my readers are thinking, “Otter is a strange man.”
   Maybe next time I’ll pretend to be deaf.