Uncle Sherm

    Uncle Sherm's booming voice could be disringuished over the hubbub of activity at Will Rogers World Airport long berfore I reached the gate where I was to pick him up.

    "I will not use that contraptiohn," he belowed at a young female airport attendant.  "I've used these two legs for eighty years and I'll keep on using them until I die."

    I greeted Uncle Sherm, but he was apparently too wrapped up in his own world of stubbornness and pride.

    "Sir, it's airport policy," the attendant began.  "If you're disabled in some way, you must ride in a wheelchair to luggage pickup."

    "Humph," Uncle Sherm graunted, "disabled...smabled...policy...fallacy.  I refuse to use that thing."

    Uncle Sherm with his 6' frame and stooped shoulders from years of working over a drawing board leaned on me for support as we lumbered slowly down the ramp leading to baggage pickup.  The attendant followed along behind us with the ghastly wheelchair.  It reminded me somewhat of a caravan.

    There was a bench about midway of the ramp and Uncle Sherm began to lean toward it.  "Got to sit a minute...catch my breath.  It's a little farther than I remembered."   

    "Sir," the attendant began, "I've got a wheelcair right here for you."

    "I told you," Uncle Sherm said between gasps.  His face was red and he was sweating in the air-conditioned airport facilities.  With a shake of my head in disapproval, she said no more.

    With me and Uncle Sherm in my car and his luggage safely stowed in the trunk, I drove through the gates and out onto the open road.

    "Take me to Marjie's and Jay's," Uncle Sherm said over the roar of the engine.

    "Do Mom and Dad know you're coming?"

    He hesitated a minute.  "Nope.  It'll be a surprise."

    "Do you realize it's after Midnight?"

    "Already?  It was early when I leftt home."

    "That was California time."

    "Oh, yeah, I forgot.  Lorraine made me mad--said I needed to mind my own business.  I don't know what's wrong with that girl.  I didn't raise her that way.  Anyway, I called a taxi, went to  LA Airport and I am.  I guess I sort of lost track of time with all the fussing and hard feelings.,  Marjie will be happy to see me though--any time.  Jay? He might not.  Well, it doesn't matter.  Marjie's my little sister.  She'll take me in."

    With luggage in hand and Uncle Sherm safely up the three cement steps leading to Mom and Dad's front porch, I rang the doorbell.  After several minutes, Mom peered through the window and I heard the lock click.  Uncle Sherm bent over and kissed me on the cheek as his scraggly beard burned my skin.

    "Come see me while I'm here, Pumpkin."  His breath reeked of strong coffee.  "I'll probably just be here a few days.  Jay won't put up with me long."