We hear lots of talk about all the heroes who are working so hard to get us through this crisis, I thought I would write a (very) short story with that title.
Dan lifted the net curtain,
“There they are again. Silly buggers! There’s three of them. I bet they’re not all from the same household.”
“Sit down and have your cup of tea,” encouraged Jane. “They’re not doing us any harm.”
“No, but they may live with grandparents,” Stan insisted. “Backwards and forwards they go. That’s the third time I’ve seen them this morning. No ‘one hour a day’ exercise for them. They must be in and out of that supermarket all day. Bloody teenagers. If this was 1939 they’d be out there fighting for our country. Can you imagine that? Can’t even stay inside to save us.” He took the mug of tea.
Dan was getting depressed. He knew he shouldn’t complain. They had it easy, compared to some. He had his garden and Jane had her crochet. He missed his grandchildren, though, and he worried about his daughter, who was a care assistant. The children seemed happy, being ‘home schooled’ by their dad. Dan looked forward to seeing their smiling faces every Sunday in their family ‘Zoom’ chat. What would they do without technology?
After he’d had his tea he took a dining chair and took up his position by the window. There was a wren hopping about in his front garden, and a sparrow hanging on the bird feeder. The weather had been kind and the garden was looking beautiful.
There they were again, the three yobs! What did they think they were doing? Suddenly one of the boys caught his eye and waved. He dropped the curtain quickly. The cheek of it!
After lunch he sat back in the chair again, to ‘watch the birds’. It wasn’t long before the boys were back, walking in the other direction this time. They waved again, but he pretended not to see them.
Later he went into the kitchen, it must be nearly time for another cuppa. Jane was leaning against the sink, struggling to breathe.
“Inhaler,” she managed to wheeze. Dan went upstairs as fast as his arthritis would let him and rummaged in Jane’s drawer. There it was. Jane suffered from seasonal asthma, brought on by an allergic reaction to tree pollen, but he’d never seen her this bad. Jane shook it and tried to use it but it was empty. She slid to the floor, requiring all her strength to breathe.
What should he do? He couldn’t go out. Caz was at work, Will had the children. He dashed to the front door.
“Hey, there, Grandpa,” said one of the boys. What excellent timing. Dan explained the situation and they told him to phone Jane’s doctor and arrange a prescription, while they set off for the chemist’s. They’d be back in no time.
Soon Jane was resting comfortably, and Dan was thanking the boys for their quick, calm response. Apparently they were brothers who did all the shopping for their elderly or ill neighbours. Not all heroes wear capes.