“I Never Joke”
Two days later, I ran into Leo near the mailboxes.
“Son,” I told him firmly, “I don’t know what kind of games you think you’re playing, but that signal is serious. It can save lives. Don’t use it for nothing.”
Leo didn’t look embarrassed.
If anything, his eyes carried a tired seriousness far beyond his age.
“I never joke, sir,” he replied. “Watch your window carefully.”
Then he walked away.
I stood there staring after him, uncertain what to think.
For several nights afterward, the signals stopped.
At first I felt relieved.
Then, late Monday night just before bed, I saw the flashlight flicker again.
But this time it wasn’t S.O.S.
I grabbed a notepad and pen. Years of training kicked in automatically.
I translated the message as the light pulsed:
WE. NEED. YOUR. HELP. COME. INTO. THE. HOUSE.
The message repeated. Then the room went dark.
A cold feeling settled into my stomach.
I grabbed my cane and headed outside into the cool night air.
