When they reached the house, Aunt Jessie, Mitzi and Puccini were sitting on the front porch waiting. The instant Mama parked the car, Mitzi stood. Munch climbed out, the next thing he knew Mitzi hit him solid in the middle causing him to double over. He gasped as her small arms went around his neck. The face she pressed against his was wet with tears. Crumbled on the ground beside them, lay Puccini. In a trembling voice Mitzi whispered, “Is Lolly gonna die?”

This question chilled Munch to his soul, still he said, “No, Lolly’s strong.”This had to be true, it just had to be true. Against his shoulder Mitzi nodded her head. She looked up at him and said, “I’m spending the night with you.”

By the porch, Aunt Jessie and Mama were holding each other and whispering. Munch didn’t know if they were whispering because of Mitzi or him, or both. Whatever they were saying he did not want to hear. He scooped up Mitzi and asked, “You want some vanilla ice cream?”

She shook her head. “No, my tummy don’t feel so good.”His didn’t either.

Aunt Jessie came to them and picked up Puccini. She handed him to Mitzi, kissed her forehead and said, “Love you girl. See you in the morning.”

Against Munch’s shoulder, Mitzi nodded. Her small body trembled. Life was just so scary sometimes.

With Mama they watched Aunt Jessie cross the yard to her trailer. Despite what was going on with Lolly, Aunt Jessie had to go to work at Pensky’s Gas Station. She went inside and came out of it with Bruno. The big old dumb dog was the only happy one among them. His tail was wagging hard as he climbed into the Ford Pinto. The little car roared away. Silently, Munch, Mama, Mitzi and maybe even Puccini, watched the car until its tail lights disappeared down the road.

Softly, Mitzi said, “I wish Grandma was here. I wish Lolly was here. I wish Max was here.” From Grandma Toady’s trailer came a loud yowl. Mitzi said, “Fluff is sad, we need to go get him.” Another sad yowl emanated from the trailer. Mitzi wiggled out of Munch’s arms and ran to the trailer. She shouted, “I’m comin’ Fluff!” At the front door she tugged hard. It did not budge. “Get the key Aunt Estelle and hurry!”

Mama ran inside and got her keys. Munch followed her over to the trailer. She slipped the key in the lock and turned it. There was a click. Mitzi grabbed the door knob with both hands and swung it open. From the shadows Fluff appeared. He ran right to Mitzi and allowed her to pick him up, which was something he never did.

Against his furry neck, Mitzi whispered, “Lolly’s gonna okay. She will be.”

Munch sure hoped so.

They went out and Mama locked the door. She said, “Let’s hurry and get inside. The mosquitos are gonna carry us off.” Since they arrived home, Munch hadn’t even noticed the swarming insects, nor felt their bites. One landed on him and he felt the sting of its bite.

Once they were inside the house, Mama made toast. Thanks to that man they actually had some white bread for Mitzi to eat. They ate in silence. The house was so quiet that when phone rang they all jumped. Mama got up and answered the phone. Faintly, Munch could hear that man’s voice coming over the line. Mitzi slid out of her chair and climbed into Munch’s lap. Against his chest, he could feel her tiny heart beating fast and hard.

Mama said, “Okay. Yes. I will. Just let me know if you need anything.” There was a pause and she said, “I love you too.” She hung up the phone. When she turned to them, by the look on her face, Munch knew Mama was weighing her words before she spoke them. Finally she said, “Lolly has stopped throwing up. They have started her on a round of antibiotics and pain medication. In the morning the doctors want to run some more tests.”

This was not exactly the news Munch was hoping for. He wanted answers, good answers with a happy result. What was wrong with Lolly? Why was it taking so long for them to find out. He wrapped his arms a little tighter around Mitzi.

Again, Mitzi whispered, “Is Lolly gonna die?”

Mama came to where Mitzi and Munch were seated. She placed her hand on Mitzi’s cheek and said, “Uncle Trace told me they put Lolly in a room. She’s stopped throwing up and she’s resting. Those are good signs.”

All Mitzi said was, “Okay.”

Munch asked, “What do they think is wrong with her?”

Mama said, “Most likely its a staph infection.” By the way she said, he suspected there was more, but she wasn’t going to say it in front of Mitzi.

*

Propped up in the studio on Lolly’s bed, Munch was reading Winnie the Pooh to Mitzi. She was nestled against his shoulder. At their feet, Fluff was all sprawled out and snoring. Mama was working at her drafting table. On the record player, Ray Charles sang low. Mitzi’s head began to nod, she would soon be in dream land. Hopefully, her dreams would be good. Munch continued reading about that silly old bear. Clutched in Mitzi’s arms was Puccini. Was Puccini as real to Mitzi as Winnie the Pooh was to Christopher Robin? Maybe? He couldn’t remember ever being that attached to any of his toys when he was little. He felt Mitzi’s body go limp. Her eyes were closed. Her breathing was slow and steady. She was solid out. Munch remained where he was. The last thing he wanted to do was wake her. He looked out the studio window. Up in the sky, the moon was waxing. Its silver reflected light was lovely. Moon light was hard to capture in a painting. He wondered if Lolly was awake. He wondered if she could see the moon. For how long, he didn’t know, he watched the clouds race across the face of the moon.

Downstairs the kitchen phone rang. Mama remained motionless at the table. Was she afraid of bad news? When it rang a second time and Mama didn’t move, Munch gently shifted Mitzi onto the bed. Quickly he went down the stairs. He picked up the phone. “Hello.”

Trevor said, “Hello. Do you know where Lolly is? I’ve been calling her but no one is picking up.”

“She’s in the hospital?”

The concern in Trevor’s voice was real and raw when he asked, “What?”

Munch didn’t want to speak out loud the reason why Lolly was in the hospital. Thinking about it made him feel anxious. Talking about it only made his panic rise. Still, he said, “She had a fever and couldn’t stop throwing up. They still aren’t sure what’s wrong with her.”

Like Mitzi, Trevor asked, “Is she gonna die?”

Fiercely Munch said, “Lolly is strong. Last report she was in a room, resting and she wasn’t throwing up any more. She has some more tests in the morning. I will let you know when I find out more.”

“Okay. Which hospital is she in?”

“Lake Jackson.”

“Okay.” The phone went dead. Trevor hung up without even saying good bye. Munch hoped he wasn’t going to rush to the hospital. He glanced at the kitchen clock. It was after 8:30 p.m. Would he get there before visiting hours were over? No.

Munch went back upstairs Mama asked, “Who was that?”

“Trevor. He’s been trying to get a hold of Lolly.”

Mama’s shook her head. “Oh, that poor boy. He’s had to deal with hospitals a lot lately.”

Indeed he had. Until Trevor called, Munch hadn’t even thought abut him. He hoped he was okay.

Munch asked, “Did that-um, Trace say anything else about what might be wrong with Lolly?”

A muscle in Mama’s jaw twitched before she said, “They are worried she has some kind of gastrointestinal disease or infection.”

That sounded horrible. Mama placed her hand on his arm. “We will know more in the morning.”

Munch nodded and then asked, “Can you pray the rosary with me tonight?”

“Of course.” She gave his arm a squeeze and returned to her drawing. Munch went to his own drawing table and tried to focus on sketches for a new suit he had in mind.

For a little while longer, Mama worked on her illustration, then she said, “I best get Mitzi to bed. She will sleep with me tonight.” Mama got up and gently picked up the sleeping little girl. Mitzi had a death grip on Puccini. Watching Mama carry Mitzi down the stairs, reminded Munch of when he was little and Mama used to carry him. He had always felt so safe in her arms. Once they were down stairs, he turned up the record player just a tad. Ray Charles was singing,

The days may be cloudy or sunny

We're in or we're out of the money

But I'm with you always

I'm with you rain or shine…*

This is was a song Munch’s daddy used to sing to his mama. Daddy had really loved Mama and Mama had loved him. It was strange how a song could take a body back in time to a place and feeling. Tears threatened to fall. Munch went to the record player and turned it off.

In her hast to get Mitzi quietly downstairs, Mama had forgotten to turn off the lamp on her drafting table. Behind him, there was a thud. Munch felt Fluff press himself against his legs. He let out a little meow. The cat had never wanted to be held by him, before, but Munch picked him up anyway. to his surprise, Fluff snuggled against his shoulder. This was a surprise. Munch went to Mama’s drafting table. On it was a small picture of Puccini. He was a very different sort of bear than Winnie the Pooh. He didn’t have moveable joints or a honey colored coat. In fact, he was so well loved he was more like Old Skin Horse in The Velveteen Rabbit. Munch flipped the switch off. The room was now dark. On the floor, Moonlight created a glowing rectangle. Again his thoughts turned to Lolly. Could she see the moon from her hospital room? Could Grandma Toady? Both of them loved Moon light.

Quietly he made his way downstairs with Fluff in his arms. The cat’s purr rumbled deep in his chest. Did the cat miss Lolly? Did he care? It was really hard to tell with cats. Still, when Munch went to his own room and put Fluff down on his bed, he was grateful for the company of the cat and thankful he didn’t have to sleep all by himself tonight.

*Come Rain or Come Shine, Lyrics by Johnny Mercer https://www.lyrics.com/lyric/3136146/Johnny+Mercer/Come+Rain+or+Come+Shine