HOME INVASION

I had just left the kitchen when our front door was kicked in by a man who said he needed help. His hand was wrapped in a towel. It was our next door neighbor and in his very British accent said that he had very stupidly lifted up his lawnmower by his hands while it was still running and cut off his finger.

I told him to sit down while I called a doctor/neighbor who owned several walk-in clinics hoping he would take care of him. Alas, no one was home, so I had to put him in my car to get help. Driving down the long access road that ran by our golf course community there was very little traffic. Peter was in much pain and writhing in the front seat, moving his head up then down.

Miraculously a sheriff car was passing by going in the other direction. I honked my horn loudly and he stopped. I had to back up to speak to him. By law he couldn’t put the man in his patrol car but said he’d drive ahead of me with his lights on so I could go quickly. At a major intersection, he stopped traffic so I could go a short distance to the walk-in clinic owned by our neighbor. It would have taken another fifteen minutes to go to our hospital emergency room. I ran inside to alert the staff, they brought him inside. I then sat in the waiting room relieved that he was no longer my problem. I was informed that when they removed the towel covering his hand that my neighbor very fortunately had only cut off the tip of his finger.