counter. Staring in horror at the front-page expose' about TS
Development, she suddenly realized that she'd never had a
chance to warn Mr. Westerly about the story yet. After
quickly explaining to the kind but curious druggist that
Spencer and Daniel were both okay (another reminder to her
of how news travels like wildfire in a small town) she called
Audrey to quickly explain her further delay.
"Don't worry, honey," Audrey said soothirigly. "Spencer
doesn't even need any more pain medication until tonight.
Take all the time you need to explain everything to that dear
old man. Spence is perfectly fine stretched out on the sofa in
front of the TV He's having a bowl of homemade potato soup
right now, and he asked me to make chocolate chip cookies."
Maggie smiled. "Thanks so much, Mom. I really appre-
ciate it." Then she grabbed up the prescription and crutches
and rushed straight over to Mr. Westerly's farm, praying
along the way that his newspaper hadn't been delivered yet,
although she knew that was unlikely.
48Melody Carlson
She wondered if he'd read the paper as she hurried up the
front porch steps. Perhaps he was one of those people who
didn't look at his paper until after supper-she hoped so. She
knocked on the door and waited impatiently, then knocked
again louder. Lizzie barked sharply from inside, but the door
stayed firmly shut. Maybe Mr. Westerly was outside put-
tering around. She walked around the back of the house,
loudly calling Out his name, hoping he might be somewhere
close by, and willing to search every acre of his property just
to find him. But as she called and looked, she continued to
hear Lizzie barking frantically from inside the house. Sud-
denly it occurred to her that if Mr. Westerly was outside,
surely he'd have taken the dog with him. So she went around
to the backdoor and tried knocking again. She rapped on the
window of the door; carefully, for the glass pane rattled
loosely. Then she cupped her hands over the reflective sur-
face and peered inside. There, slumped motionless over the
kitchen table, was old Mr. Westerly!
Trying the door handle, she discovered it was unlocked
and she went inside, her legs shaking as she approached the
table. "Mr. Westerly?" she said weakly. "Are you okay?"
Lizzie moved nervously around her feet as Maggie reached
out to touch his arm. She watched in horror as it slid limply
from the table and fell loosely to his side. Her heart pounded
louder than Spencer's drum set as she touched her fingers to
his old, wrinkled cheek. Cold as marble. She held her hand
by his nose and mouth. No breath. No pulse. And there
crumpled beneath him was today's newspaper!
"Oh, no!" she cried as she backed away from the
dreadful scene. "Oh, dear God, no! Please, no!"
Maggie never remembered calling 911 or her mother. But
somehow Jed's pickup miraculously appeared shortly after