Lake Whitney again

I was to meet a group of people at Fishermen club. I was new to this group and I didn't know anybody. People were friendly, especially one woman took me under her wing. After the meeting she told me they always go to the nearest eatery to have a lunch and invited me to go with them. She introduced me to her half Hispanic children with black shiny eyes. After the lunch she insisted to pay for my meal. I felt awkward, I knew she didn't have money to pay for it but I didn't want to hurt her hospitality. O. K. I shall pay next time. Next time we didn't go, another time I was in the hurry, and another time I wasn't hungry. In one of these meetings I noticed my pen was missing. It wasn't big deal. I wasn't able to come to the meetings for next several weeks. One Saturday I came to the meeting and I was told she passed away. I never repaid her lunch. One day I was sitting at work in lunch area eating a piece of a yellow cake and suddenly a whiff of the air passed by, knocked the cake out of my hand and dropped it on the floor. "You owe me a lunch." "No, I don't. We are even. You took my pen." Whiff of air whiffed away. I told about my experience at the next meeting. A replay was: "Yes, we know she was in this kind of stuff." The end Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville, 5/14/2010