This entry is an excerpt from my novel, The Graceland Tales, in which a group of people tell stories to pass time on a train trip to Graceland. In medieval times, variations on this tale--where the husband and wife make a bet over who will speak first, with dire (or foolish) results--show up in Middle English lyrics and in Asian folk lore. This updated version is set in contemporary America.
One
Saturday afternoon, me and another church member were out witnessing in a
neighborhood near our church. We go out on Saturdays because people tend to be
at home, not at work, and we figure if we talk to them on Saturday, they’re more
likely to come to church the next day. We have an old school bus that comes
around and picks people up who need a ride or kids if their parents don’t want
to come to church themselves. So we were out. As we came up to this one house,
a teenager threw open the front door and ran out, bobbling this yappy little
dog. Another teenager was right behind him with a pillow case full of stuff. We
heard a woman inside yelling, ‘Stop! You come back here with my dog! I’m
calling the police! You better bring my Norma back right now!’ Now, I’m not the
biggest guy but I was able to trip up the kid with the dog. He fell and dropped
the dog. The dog skittered back into the house. The kid rolled a few times and
found his feet and ran away. My partner tried to stop the other kid, but he got
away, too.
Since
the door was open, we stepped right inside. The woman—she was old--had been in
one of those chairs that lifts you up when you can’t get up by yourself, and
she had just come to standing and started hobbling towards the door. ‘Call the
police!’ she yelled at us, so we did. Her husband was sitting in another
lifting recliner chair but had not budged. The little dog jumped into his lap.
We saw the old man reach over to a side table, pick up a cookie, and start
munching, feeding tidbits to the dog. While we waited for the police to show
up, the old lady told us this story.
She
and her husband had been married for sixty-nine years. Sixty-nine. They didn’t
have any kids, just the dog, so the dog, Norma, was pretty special. They were
in good enough health that they could still stay in their house by themselves,
but they depended on programs like Meals on Wheels or on friends or neighbors
to bring them food. They weren’t members of a church, so I knew we could
minister to them. That morning, a neighbor brought over some lunch for
them—some mac and cheese with wienies in it. They ate their lunch, but the
neighbor had put in three chocolate cherry almond cookies—the old folks’
favorite--although the neighbor knew Norma was not supposed to have chocolate.
It’s not good for dogs, you know—can kill them. The old lady and the old man
each ate one cookie, but for some reason, instead of splitting the third cookie
in half and sharing, they made a bet that whoever spoke the first word would not
get the extra cookie. They were sitting in their recliners, watching some
Saturday afternoon show on the TV—Lawrence Welk or some music show--when
someone knocked at the door. Neither one of them said anything because of their
bet and the knock came again. Again, neither one spoke. They both wanted that
cookie. When they didn’t hear another knock, they assumed whoever was there
went away. Instead, a few minutes later, they heard noises at the back of the
house. Two thieves had come in the kitchen since the back door was unlocked.
The couple heard the intruders ruffling through stuff in their bedroom, but
neither one of the old people was quick on their feet and neither one wanted to
say anything lose the bet and the cookie, so they just sat and didn’t say
anything. The little dog kept yapping the whole time the robbers were there but
that didn’t bother those crooks. They didn’t stay long. When they came from the
back of the house, they saw the old couple. One nudged the other and said,
‘These old people must be deaf since they didn’t answer the front door and
they’re not yelling at us.’ One of the burglars grabbed the dog from the old
woman’s lap as they headed out the front door. That’s when the old woman
started squawking and pressed the button to raise her chair, but by the time
she could get up, the thieves were out the door and we showed up.
She
finished her story and turned to the old man. ‘And you!’ she spluttered. ‘You
just sat there and let them take our precious Norma! Shame on you!’ ‘Yeah, but
that cookie sure was good!’ said the old man as the dog licked the old man’s
lips.
