I’d lived next door to Debbie and her 84-year-old mother, Nan, for about six months and we’d become fast friends. Nan was blind and was also hard of hearing. One day, when Debbie was at work, she asked me to check on her mother. She fixed some baby monitors (监控器) and gave me a receiver.
I was glad to help. But I also felt a little funny about it. After all, what could I do? I’ve been born blind, too. In fact, at 54, I’d come to wonder if I had much value anymore.
At 9:00 pm I grabbed up my cane (手杖) and headed over to Debbie’s. After a brief check, I felt everything was fine, so I said goodnight to Nan. Then I locked the door and found my way home. I sat on my chair, switched on the receiver and laid it on an end table. However, Minutes later I heard a sound. It was Nan on the receiver. She was walking slowly across the floor. A door opened. Maybe she’s heading to the bathroom. Then I heard something strange, something I couldn’t identify. Had she turned on the shower? Why? Maybe the sound was something else. Something catching fire?
The monitor was one-way. I couldn’t call her. I reached for my cane and starting to get worried. I got out of my chair and headed for the door. “Jim! Jim!” I heard over the monitor. “The house is on fire! Help!”
I went as fast as I could to Debbie’s. I had to get Nan out. But how? I wasn’t even sure where Nan was, let alone how I would get to her. One thing I knew: There wasn’t much time. When getting to the front door, I could smell heavy and thick smoke. I reached for my key and unlocked the door. “Nan!” I called. No sound. Was I too late?
“Here, Jim. Help!” Her voice was weak.
“Nan, where are you? Keep talking!”
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“Here, Jim, here!” Sounded as if she’s right in front of me.
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I tapped with my cane until we found the front door.
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