Daisy’s Surprise or The New Neighbor or Saved from Plunging Though Her Old Porch by the New Neighbor

Flash Fiction, we all know someone like Daisy, too proud to ask for help, surprised and touched when it is given anyway.

Daisy sat on her sagging porch in her ancient lawn chair. Half the webbing was missing; the other half was dry and rotting. Soon it would not hold even her slight weight. She watched as a moving van rolled up to the house across the street. A great kerfuffle had been going on over there, lots of comings and goings, trucks and people in and out, it was very disturbing. No one had lived in that old monstrosity since before her Harry and gone on to his Great Reward.

                Daisy had lived in this house for 70 years; Harry built the place when they were just newlyweds so many years ago. My how hazy those days were becoming! She rarely used any of the rooms anymore, just the kitchen and her bedroom, and the necessary of course. At 93 she was glad she could still live in her own home.

                She studied the new neighbor as he directed the movers. He waved at her and she lifted her gnarled old hand in response. He must have taken that response as an invitation to visit as he ambled on over and mounted the creaky old steps. He looked a little alarmed as the steps groaned at his weight.

                “Hello, my name is Dan Marshall,” he held out his hand. She reached out and shook his fingers.

                “Daisy Jones, pleased to meet you.” Her own voice sounded dry and old. She wanted to offer him a glass of lemonade, but she didn’t remember if she had any.

                “My you’ve done a lot of work to that old house,” she commented.

                “The place was a mess, but it is looking pretty good now. Well, I need to get back to work, mind if I come by to visit now and then?”

                “Suit yourself,” she mumbled. She realized she needed to work on her social skills. How long since she had last had a social visitor? Other than the boy who delivered her groceries once a week and the lady her son paid to come clean twice a month she hardly ever saw anyone. Her son came by once in a while, but she couldn’t remember the last time he had been over.

                Dan looked over his shoulder and waved again at his new neighbor. He wondered if she would let him fix that front porch. He was a carpenter by trade, retired, but he still worked on it as a hobby.  His mind was already figuring dimensions of her front porch. He wondered if she had any people. The realtor had told him she lived there alone; she had not told him she was ancient.

                The next morning Daisy was sipping her morning tea when a knock came at her front door. Her new neighbor waved through the glass door.

                “Hello Mrs. Jones, how are you this morning?” he asked cheerfully.

                “Well I suppose I’m just fine, and yourself?” Try as she might she could not remember his name. She should have written it down.

                “I’m very well thank you, I was wondering if you might do me a favor? I have a bunch of lumber left over from my porch, I noticed yours was a little creaky, would you mind terribly if I used up the rest of this extra lumber and fixed up your porch? I would hate to plunge through when I come over to visit.”

                “I aint looking for no help’” she declared.

                “Oh no, you would be doing me a favor, I don’t have anywhere to store it and I sure don’t want to have to make a trip back to town to return it.”

                “Well okay then, if it will be a help to you. Will it take you long? I like to spend the evening on my porch.”

                “Two days, will that be okay?”

                “I suppose so.”

                “Thanks!” He ran across the street and came back with a big bucket of tools. Soon he was pounding away at her front porch. Daisy searched her cupboards and located some powdered lemonade and mixed up a pitcher. She found a tin of biscuits and laid out a nice spread with her good napkins in their fancy silver holders. All kinds of noise and carrying on was coming from the front porch. She was afraid to look so she turned on her television and sat at the table to watch her favorite Judge program, Judge Julie or some such. But her curiosity got the best of her, so she went to her front door and peered out at the porch.

                “My lands you’ve torn it to pieces!” she exclaimed.

                “Don’t worry, it will be good as new tomorrow. It is going a bit faster than I thought, and my son here showed up so I put him to work, too, Mrs. Jones, this is my boy, Joshua.”

                “Pleased to meet you ma’am,” the young man nodded his head in her direction, his hands being filled with all sorts of tools.

                “Would you be able to pause for a bit of lemonade and a biscuit?” Daisy asked.

                “Give us about 10 minutes and we’d be happy to.”  Daisy shuffled back to her kitchen to lay out another place. Soon the two of them came tramping into her kitchen, washed their hands and set themselves down at her table. 

                “We’re almost done; you’ll be able to sit on your new porch this evening after all,” Dan assured her.

                “Well, that’s a relief.” She sipped her tea and nibbled a biscuit and watched as they drank like men thirsting in the desert and inhaled the biscuits as if they were starving.

                “I thank you kindly for the refreshments ma’am, and we’d best get back to work.” Dan carried the cups and saucers to the sink and washed them quickly. The two of them went out and the pounding resumed. Daisy went to her bedroom and shut the door. She stretched out on her bed groaning and thinking, My lands I’m getting old. She lay there for a few minutes trying to remember their names, and then drifted off to sleep.

 Later when she woke up there was silence. She peered at the clock by her bed. Land sakes it was almost 5:00, past time for some supper. She fixed up a sandwich and a glass of milk. It was quiet so she assumed the men folk had gone home for some supper. After she finished her sandwich she shuffled to her front door. She opened it dreading the mess she would find. Her jaw dropped open in surprise. There was her front porch, all in one piece. It didn’t look much different: the boards were new, but when she walked out it didn’t sag and make her feel like she was going to fall right through. She bounced a bit; it was solid and felt nice. She noticed then that her old lawn chair was missing, and in its place was a shiny new black wrought iron set, two chairs with soft looking red cushions and a nice little table.

“Well I’ll be damned.” she said. She sat down on one of the cushioned chairs. It was wonderfully comfortable. Just then the new neighbor came out on his porch and gave her a big smile and a wave. She waved back.

               

Reviews

[Delmar Cooper]

A charming story, well written with no obvious lapes in typing or grammar. There is no real conflict which could be a plus or a minus depending on what a reader wants from a story. The characterization of Daisy is excellent and shown through her circumstances and the relationships between her and her house. In other words the writer has shown the character to the reader , not merely told a series of stale facts.

One minor point, the neighbor rinsed the cups and saucers, but Daisy served lemonade.

Thanks for sharing this. Best of luck with your endeavors.