Healthy, Wealthy and Wise

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Healthy, Wealthy and Wise

"Everybody's coming for you, wake up!"

My bones creaked and my foggy brain reverberated protestingly as my phone alarm blasted the Imagine Dragons song Wake Up in my ear. The last thing I felt like doing was getting up at this hour. But if I didn't, my boss would indeed be coming for me.

As I sat up and wiggled my feet into my slippers, I thought back to the night before, when I'd stayed up late reading and editing a Word Doc on my iPad, a draft novel my best friend Jack wrote after he moved into a Florida senior home.

Oh, the relief of having the rest of your life to leisurely write novels at a retirement community. No, that wasn't the life I was destined for. I had to work through my retirement just to put food on the table for myself and two grandkids.

"Grams, you up yet? I'm hungry!" Caleb shouted at my bedroom door. "Levi can't find his school socks!"

"I'm going as fast as I can, kiddo," I called back.

By the time I arrived at the historic building downtown where I worked as a tour guide, I was already exhausted.

"You look tired," Charlie, the young ticketmaster, greeted me at the door. "Anything wrong?"

"Aside from getting up too early and not getting enough sleep, nothing." I tried not to snap at him.

"Ah, you know what they say: early to bed and early to rise, makes a man healthy, wealthy and wise." He winked glibly.

"Humph. It's made me sickly, poor and frustrated."

"You'll see… it'll all be worth it someday."

"You're a mere lad, what do you know?" I rolled my eyes. "Still applying to college. I've earned two degrees and it hasn't gotten me anywhere."

Charlie shook his head as the ceiling sound system started playing the unearthly, slightly irritating piano loop of Coldplay's Clocks.

"Keep your chin up, Helen."

I wrinkled my nose and hummed along with Chris Martin's nasally voice as Charlie disappeared into his cubicle. Lights go out and I can't be saved/ tides that I tried to swim against/ have brought me down upon my knees/ oh I beg, I beg and plead… closing walls and ticking clocks… yes, today is going to be a great day, I thought sarcastically.

I adjusted my shirt collar and cleared my throat in preparation to lead the first batch of excited, giggling school kids through the hundred year old mansion.

Three and a half troupes of noisy kids and grumpy grown-ups later, I was ready for a break. The last ones straggled off towards the snack section and the gift shop, and I collapsed in a plastic chair in the lunchroom alongside a coworker.

"Long day?" she asked sympathetically, offering a can of soda.

"The usual. Trying to keep everyone contained, entertained and walking in straight lines without putting their sticky hands on the antiques. My old knees can't handle those stairs anymore. I'm tired."

"Ah, well, you know what they say," she smiled. "Early to bed and early to rise…"

"Oh not you too!" I groaned. "Why is everyone telling me that? It doesn't mean anything to me!"

"Cheer up, hon," she patted me on the shoulder. "It could be lots worse. At least you have a job."

"Bleh. I wouldn't have to be early to bed and early to rise if not for this."

By the time I started the next shift, I was in a miserable slump. I went through the motions of trudging up and down stairs and droning on about the mansion's timeline, all the while growing more annoyed and dissatisfied with my job.

As I turned a corner into a hallway, a woman right behind me cried out,

"Oh no, where's little Kayden? He was here a second ago!"

An electric shock of dismay ran through the crowd. I radioed downstairs to Charlie.

"Seal the exits! A boy is missing."

The last place I remembered seeing Kayden - wearing a bright red and blue Spiderman shirt - was in the upstairs study, where a set of French doors led out onto a precarious balcony. That had to be the first spot I checked.

Kayden's mom and I rushed back two rooms away into the study, tripping on overstuffed leather chairs and a stack of books placed for "effect."

The French doors hung open. A little voice yelled frantically for Mommy, sending chills down my back.

Kayden was hanging on for dear life to the outside of the balcony railings. His mom watched, paralyzed, as I approached him.

"Hey, Kayden. Mommy's looking for you." Ever so cautiously I leaned over the railing and hoisted him up. "What ever made you climb out here and swing off like this?"

"The birdie wanted to play with me!" He wailed. "But he flew away, and I couldn't get back inside!"

"It's okay, Mommy's here." I shuffled him into his mom's arms.

"Thank you so much!" she sniffled, gazing at me with undiluted admiration. "You rescued my son! I don't know how I would have picked him up over the railing by myself. I have a bad spine."

"I'm used to it," I smiled. "You should see the things my grandsons get themselves into. Why…"

As I started telling her about their escapades, I remembered everyone quoting me "early to bed…" Well, I don't know if rising early made me healthy, wealthy and wise, but it did get me to the right place at the right time. Maybe if I paid more attention to the first half of the saying, I'd feel better.

That night, I tucked away the iPad and went to bed shortly after my boys did. Thank you for letting me save someone's life today, Lord. If I'd slept any later, I wouldn't have been there. Tomorrow I'll try to have a better attitude. Tonight I'll sleep.

Word Count: 981.

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