Gabe

"Not again!" Bobby thought when the familiar sound of shouting woke him up. His parents were yelling at each other again. He tried to crawl deeper into his sleeping bag so he couldn't hear their angry voices.

           "Are you telling me that I can't buy myself a new pair of shoes? I need them!" 

           Bobby could easily hear his father's angry words. He put his hands over his ears.

           "I need to know if you take money out of our account!" Bobby's mother shouted.

 Bobby tried to calm himself by remembering how much fun the family had last night. The electricity had gone out, but it hadn't been a problem. Bobby helped his parents pitch a tent in the back yard, and they brought out their sleeping bags. His mom brought out buns and ketchup while his dad cooked hotdogs on the grill. After he had eaten his hotdog, they all roasted marshmallows. Bobby's marshmallow was a little burnt, but it was still delicious.

 When dinner was over, they sat outside and told stores. Bobby's favorite was about three bears and a girl. The girl got lost in the woods and wandered into the three bears' house. Bobby's mom made her voice squeaky for the mama bear, and his dad used a deep scratchy voice for the papa bear. Bobby used his regular voice for the baby bear, even though he wasn't a baby. He was five years old, definitely not a baby.

           "I don't need to tell you every time I spend a dollar!" Bobby's dad was mad.

 Bobby gave up. He knew that he wouldn't be able to go back to sleep. He got out of his sleeping bag and opened the flap to the tent. It wasn't dark outside because the moon was bright.

 "I'm not saying you can't spend money. I want to keep our account balanced. We can't afford an overdraft charge!" Bobby's mom was just as mad as his dad.

 "Mom and Dad! Watch me!" Bobby called out. He started running as fast as he could but wasn't watching where he was going. He ran into a flower bush and fell face-first into some blooms.

           "Ouch!" Bobby cried out when he felt something sting his neck.

           "Bobby!" His mother ran over to see if he was alright.

 "Did a bee sting him?" Bobby's dad knelt beside him.

           Bobby gasped for breath. His throat was starting to swell, and he couldn't breathe.

           "Call an ambulance!" Bobby's mother, Kristi, shouted.

           "I can't! We couldn't charge our phones because the electricity was off." Bobby's father, Rick, was starting to panic.

           "Can we drive him to the hospital ourselves? I'm not sure if we can make it in time." Kristi pleaded with her husband.

           "Our garage door is too heavy to lift without electricity." Rick looked around. "Help! Please help! Someone, anyone, please help!" Rick hoped a neighbor would hear them.

           "Help! Please help us save our boy!" Kristi added her shouts to her husband's. "Please, please help!' Kristi prayed.

           "What's the problem?" A man suddenly appeared beside them. He was wearing torn blue jeans and a dark t-shirt.

           "Do you have a cell phone? We need an ambulance!" Rick told the man.

 "Let me see," the man said. He kneeled beside Bobby's still form. There was a growing lump on Bobby's neck.

           "I don't think we have time for an ambulance." Kristi was crying.

           Gently, the man touched Bobby's neck. "What happened?"

           "We think he got stung by a bee. Our son is very allergic," Rick answered.

           "Usually, bees don't fly around when it's dark outside." The stranger gave Kristi and Rick a penetrating look.

           "He ran into a flower bush. There must have been a bee on one of the blooms," Kristi explained.

           The stranger continued to stare at Bobby's parents.

           Rick felt compelled to confess. "We were fighting, and our son heard us. He tried to distract us by running around the yard." He didn't know why he was telling the stranger their private business. It must have been the stranger's eyes. They almost glowed; Rick couldn't turn away.

           "Why were you fighting?" The stranger persisted while he gently stroked Bobby's neck.

 "I don't remember," Kristi admitted. "We've been fighting a lot lately."

 "I know that it wasn't that important,' Rick confessed.

 "So . . . you were fighting over something trivial. Bobby got so frightened that he started running without watching where he was going. He ran into a flower bush and got stung by a bee. The stranger shook his head. "You must learn to enjoy the love that you have." The stranger stood up.

 Bobby bounded to his feet. His neck was no longer swollen.

           "Can I have another hotdog?" Bobby's parents watched him run over to the grill.

           "Yes, just as soon as we thank the stranger. What did you do to make the swelling go down?" Kristi turned to the stranger, but he was gone.

           "Where did he go?" Rick looked around the yard.

           "Gabe said that he would be around whenever I needed him," Bobby said.

           "How do you know his name?" Rick asked his son.

           "He told me when he fixed my neck," Bobby answered.

One year after the bee sting:

"Bobby is not allergic to bees," the pediatrician was looking at Bobby's chart. "I ran the necessary tests last week and again this week. My nurse must have made a mistake two years ago when Bobby's chart was updated. Bobby is not allergic to anything."

 Rick and Kristi looked at each other. They both remembered how swollen Bobby's neck was after a bee sting. Neither would forget how scared they were as their son lie helpless. Both recalled the man's advice. They lived each day, thankful for each other, and Bobby.

Twelve years after the bee sting:

"Don't go yet." Bobby heard a familiar voice beside him. He was at a four-way stop sign, and it was his turn to go.

           Suddenly, a dump truck came crashing through the intersection. The dump truck swerved and crashed into a light pole. 

           "Are you hurt badly?" Bobby asked the bleeding driver. Bobby used his cell phone to call 911 when the driver didn't respond. An ambulance rushed him to the hospital.

Later Bobby learned that the brakes of the dump truck malfunctioned. The driver suffered a concussion but would be fine in a few days.

Thirteen years after the bee sting:

Bobby's parents didn't want him to become a fireman. "It's too dangerous!" Kristi and Rick tried to talk Bobby out of his chosen profession.

           "I have to help people," Bobby argued. "I have had so many close calls with death, yet I was never hurt. I believe  it's my calling to be a fireman and save lives."

           "You are our only child," Kristi argued.

           "There are other parents with just one child," Bobby reasoned. "Those people need help as much as I did when the bee stung my neck."

           Kristi and Rick hadn't forgotten, but they thought Bobby had. 

           "Alright, but be extra careful," Rick finally consented.

 "You're my son, and I'll always worry about you," Kristi said. "I'll also be very proud of you.

           "Gabe is still with me when I need him," Bobby replied.

Twenty-five years later:

"We are here to honor firehouse number seventeen," The chief of the fire department announced. "The men and women of this firehouse have a remarkable record. It is a record that all of us strive to achieve. They haven't had any fatalities for the past five years, and they have fewer accidents than any other firehouse in the city."

           Kristi and Rick applauded with the rest of the crowd.