Where There's Smoke

Ollie Hoskins knocked over several packages of Nutter Butters in his haste to get to aisle 4 to see what had happened. He arrived in time to see Jody Tackett reel sideways against her cart. She extended her arms at her sides, palms down, as though trying to regain her balance. The cart rolled forward; she lost her support and fell against the shelves stacked with boxes of Lipton’s Tea. Several glass jars of instant decaf crashed to the floor, breaking on impact and spilling their fragrant powders. Jody fell backward against the shelf, then slid to the floor. She lay prone upon shattered jars and instant tea.

Janellen dropped to her knees. “Mama! Mama!” Lara Mallory didn’t waste a secon

d. She was beside Jody before Ollie could blink. “Call 911,” she shouted back at him. “We need an ambulance.”

He, in true military fashion, passed the command to one of his subordinates, a checker who happened to be restocking cigarettes in front of her register. She turned and ran toward the office phone. The aisle was now filling up with other shoppers who’d been alerted by Janellen’s frantic screams. Deserting their carts, they converged on aisle 4 from every corner of the supermarket. Ollie ordered them to stand back so the doctor would have room to see to Mrs. Tackett.

“I need something to cushion her head.”

Ollie whipped off his apron, wadded it up and handed it to Dr. Mallory, who placed it beneath Jody’s head. Cool as a cucumber, she said, “Ollie, help me turn her onto her side to keep her from choking.”

He didn’t think about it, he just did it, watching Dr. Mallory’s capable motions and imitating them, although he had to dodge Mrs. Tackett’s flailing arms.

“Janellen, does your mother have epilepsy?”

“No, Dr. Mallory. She’s never done this. What’s happening?”

“We’ll find out. Has an ambulance been called, Mr. Hoskins?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Ollie briskly replied. He turned to the checker, who nodded her head to confirm. “Anything else I can do?”

“Find my brother,” Janellen said. “Get him here.”

Jody was drooling from the corners of her mouth. Her legs were still thrashing and her breathing sounded like a combine. Ollie didn’t have a soft spot for Jody Tackett, but he figured the lady deserved some privacy.

“All you people, clear this aisle.”

Of course no one moved. He shoved his way through the growing crowd and ran to his open, elevated office at the front of the store.

Knowing that Key Tackett was a pilot, Ollie called the country airstrip first. Key wasn’t there, but old Balky Willis gave him Key’s portable phone number. “He left here ’bout fifteen minutes ago. He had that hand-held gadget with him.”

Twenty seconds later, Key answered his portable phone with a cheerful, “Pimp-mobile.”

“Mr. Tackett?” Ollie said nervously. He’d never had a run-in with Key, but he’d heard about the unfortunates who had. Even his brothers-in-law, all of them wild as March hares and ready to draw blood at the drop of a hat, spoke Key Tackett’s name with reverence and respect. “This is Ollie Hoskins down at the Sak’n’Save and—”

“Hey, Ollie. I watched that Crimson-Black scrimmage the other night. Tanner’s going to give ’em hell this season.”

“Yes, sir, thanks. Mr. Tackett, your mother just collapsed here in—”

“Collapsed?”

“Yes, sir. Your sister and—”

“Is she all right?”

“No, sir. We’ve called for an ambulance.”

“I’m on my way.”

Ollie dropped the phone and rushed back to aisle 4. Clusters of shoppers blocked it at both ends. “Excuse me. Let me through.” It pleased him to discover that he’d regained his military bearing sufficiently that he could make people heed him. “Please, everybody, stand back,” he ordered with new-found confidence. He moved to stand directly behind Dr. Mallory.

“Is she having a stroke?” Janellen asked the doctor fearfully.

“Possibly a mild one. Tests will tell. Has she done this before?”

“No.”

Dr. Mallory leaned down nearer the fallen woman. “Mrs. Tackett, an ambulance is on the way. Don’t be frightened.”