Aunt Matilda on the Ramparts

Aunt Matilda on the Ramparts - Norman A. Rubin

It was a sweltry evening in the summer of '98 when police chief
Everest, the town's veteran lawman, received an unwelcomed call that
made him shudder. From the sound of voice he knew it could only be a
elder woman known to all as simply Aunt Matilda, a creature known from
her frequent battle with litterbugs. This campaign was in the years of
her dotage the last confrontation in her crusade for a cleaner
environment, which she had started in the years past. Before he was
able to utter the word 'hello' she started bickering in a weak hoarse
voice about paper strewn about on her front garden. The woman claimed a
delivery van had strewn his litter outside her home in the early
evening. As an afterthought she mentioned that she fired a warning shot
from her 22-caliber handgun at the offender who had fled the scene in
haste.
"Got the name of the company on that delivery van - 'Jones and Jones,
Florist", spluttered the angry woman, "taught that driver a lesson or
two, not to litter the town with his rubbish. There were no complaints
from the neighbors for the noise."
Police chief Everest groaned when the piercing voice declaimed her
complaint. His florid features crinkled in agony. "Yep, Aunt Matilda is
on the ramparts again. Getting near eighty and still going strong in
her campaign to save the world," he silently muttered in anguish.
Somehow through her flurry of words he managed to interject a few
phrases. The chief assured the woman that he would look into the matter
immediately. Then he slammed the receiver on its cradle.
Two duty officers, wern't able to suppress a smile as they watched
their chief cursing in anger, and fumbling about. "What are you
smirking at, you lunkheads?" Their smiles vanished immediately upon the
angry look of their superior, and they continued to carry out their
duties.
"Damn, now Aunt Matilda is really in trouble. Don't mind her whacking
people on the head with a sign in her ramdom protests. But, shooting a
handgun in a residential area. And the crazy fool can't even shoot
straight. No sireee! Got to take away her weapon and charge her with
misdemeanor. Luckily her daughter is married to a lawyer feller. He is
not going to be happy to take again that two-hour drive from the city.
No sireee," grumbled the officer as he lifted his paunchy short body
from the comfort of a swivel chair. He hitched up his trousers, search
around for his set of keys, and made his way out of the police
station.
Police Chief Everest shifted his bulky form till he found comfort in
the vehicle. He secured his seat belt and then turned the keys and felt
the roar of the motor warming up. He lowered the volume of fuel feeling
the familiar purr of the motor. Chief Everest, released the brakes and
turned the police cruiser towards the right of the road in the
direction of Aunt Matilda's home.
Aunt Matilda was known to all in her crusades on behalf of the
environment, which included clean air and water, and equally clean
streets. The good woman was recognized during her campaigns from the
vigour of later youth through her spry appearance in her elder
years.
The graceful woman was always seen in her retiring years covered in
long print dress that almost touched the bottom of flat-heeled shoes.
The features on her wrinkled face were almost hidden by a crowned wide
brim hat. And it the winter months her appearance was seen dressed in a
fur-lined ankle length rain coat and a wide brimmed fisherman's
hat.
How she came to be called Aunt Matilda was somewhat of a mystery and
when a good citizen was asked, they shrugged their shoulders and simply
answered "Don't reckon I know why she goes by that name!" But, the good
woman was called by other names, especially when she was at the
ramparts on behalf of the cause. People watched her antics and heard
her cry in the belief of her objective and simply labelled her, "That
crazy Aunt Matilda" or simply called out with a taint of laughter,
"There goes that madwoman geting riled up again!"
"Aunt Matilda, Aunt Matilda," was the cheerful cry of the happy
children at the sixth birthday of her eldest boy, a robust little chap,
full of the blessing of life. Aunt Matilda, the wee ones called as they
clamoured for the delicassies she had prepared for the joyous occasion.
Ever since, when one can remember, she was known as Aunt Matilda, a
woman who presented her love to all in kind words and in the offerings
of gifts or assistance.
It was that way with her growing family as they look with the fruits of
a good life to the future. Aunt Matilda, was the handle even known to
growing family. Her children at odd times would follow their playmates
and called out to her "Aunt Matilda'. "She was pretty in her younger
years and her faithful husband lovingly called her 'Matty' in his
endearment to her," as a person or two, tried to remember her
past.
"Until that day of that great sickness. It was about thirty years back
when that curse shadowed the entire county." as others talked in their
remembrance. They detailed the events of the outbreak of that so-called
plague. They told how the doctors of the area were baffled by its cause
and watched as the sickness took hold of their victims.
Their words told that doctors at the county hospital were equally
puzzled at the poisoning of healthy bodies by the disease. The
physicians tried everything in their knowledge but patients weakened
and the ebbing of life flowed from both the strong and the weak. The
King of Death reaped twenty-two victims. But the Reaper wasn't able to
fill his sack as many rallied and escaped, but the plaguey effects
still haunted their bodies.
The cursed symphony of sickness and death continued to play its
refrain. It was an era of tragedy when the disease tore apart families
through the anguish of feverish hopeless hours and the drumbeat of the
funeral corteges.
Aunt Matilda cried at the burial rites of her son and watched as her
once healthy husband was carried away in a feverish state to the county
hospital, never to return. "Lordy, lordy, have mercy," she cried out.
The Good Lord did show some mercy as she enjoyed the grace of seeing
her younger child in good health; the young girl of four, now entering
her fifth year, showed no signs of the infection.
Many of the good folk just packed up and moved away to escape the
curse. Boarded windows on many deserted homes were the sign of the fear
of the debilating sickness. But Matilda refused to leave the town. "My
child is buried here, and here I will stay!" Tears were aplenty as she
parted from her little daughter. Little did she know it would be many
years before there would be a reunion when she placed her daughter in
the care of her younger sister living in a distant city.
"Aunt Matilda, Aunt Matilda," was the mournful cry, as the poor woman
was called to the bedside of a sickened child. "Aunt Matilda, Aunt
Matilda," was the plea feverish elders cried out as she tenderly cared
for them in their hour of need. Her hands had the power of healing and
she won many battles with King Death. She aged in her efforts and the
toil was etched on her tired features.
Aunt Matilda fought the cupidity of the authorities that refused to
take sterner measures to control the outbreak. She banged on many desks
of the officialdom, and hoarsely proclaimed her cause, but was only met
with snubbed remarks. And at times she was ejected from a governmental
building by burly policemen, "Please ma'am, you're creating a
disturbance. Please leave before we register a complaint." The good
woman understood that a sojourn in jail would harm those in need of her
healing and she left the premises with nary a struggle.
Aunt Matilda's crusade continued. She wrote out petitions and got the
concerned to add their signatures. Letters to editor in the local press
were constantly contributed. The good woman even led citizen protests
that picketed the offices of the authorities demanding positive action.
Her daunting efforts were met by the stiff resistance by the
officialdom. "We are doing everything neccessary required by law," they
protested, "but that mad woman was sticking her nose in matters that
are not her affair."
Still Aunt Matilda stuck her nose into the affair. She wrote numerous
letters to the governor of the state, the representatives in the state
legislature and even to her congressman 'on the hill'. The politicians
either sent back missives stating that the matter will be studied or
they simply ignored her pleading letters.
Her attempt to write articles was a total failure as she had no way
with the pen, but 'letters to the editor' to interested national
periodicals found its way into print.
"My name is James Roberts, reporter," said the young husky chap to Aunt
Matilda as she opened the front door to her home from the call of his
beckoning knock. She examined the offered calling card, which detailed
his work as news reporter from a nearby city newspaper. Before she was
able to question the purpose of his visit, the ruddy faced chap told
her that he had heard of her crusade and offered to write about her
efforts, "Can I come inside as I would like to have an interview with
you, which would enlighten our readers." Aunt Matilda was perplexed for
a moment or two by his sudden request, but after a thought, she invited
him inside.
Aunt Matilda offered the reporter a comfortable armchair in her parlor,
which he accepted with graciousness. "Coffee?", she offered, which was
equally accepted. The two faced each other, sipping the fragrance of
the brew. Matilda, with the moist of tears, shining from her eyes,
spoke in a softspoken voice, "From what I rembember, it was about two
years ago, maybe more, when the first person was felled by this
plague..."
The reporter listened carefully, writing her words in a lined notebook.
Questions were asked by him as to the reason of the sickness and she
parried, "Doctors are not aware of the root cause, not of the cure..."
Another question was fowarded and answered, "the authorities are lax in
their efforts to find the source.... and that efforts on my part proved
fruitless..." Aunt Matilda detailed her many visits to varied
governmental offices. She told of crusade in her efforts to attain
proper investigation, which also proved fruitless.
Aunt Matilda stated, "The health authorities took the easy road in
their examination to the cause of the outbreak. Polio was their answer
that resulted from their haphazard investigation, and immediately took
steps like banning summer swimming. But the outbreak continued to raise
its ugly head; a few cases were reported afterwards with one or two
fatal results. The county had nearly become a vast ghost town with many
empty dwellings!" The good woman paused as she caught her breath. Then
she noted the passing of time, which she added at the end of her
statement.
The reporter understood and folded his notebook as he prepared to take
his leave. He remarked that he had to do a bit of checking as to the
type of investigation the health authorities committed themselves in
their findings to the cause of the outbreak. He thanked her for the
precious time for the interview along with a compliment for her
hospitality. Then he lifted his husky frame from the comfort of the,
doffed his coat and hat and was escorted to front door, "It was a most
interesting day," as he bid his farewell.
James Roberts became a frequent guest to her home the following weeks,
bringing a copy of his newspaper with his latest article on the
outbreak of unknown disease that had afflicted the area. His articles
also pointed out the poor response of the health authorities in their
efforts in finding the root of the problem. The harsh words in the copy
criticized various officials in their laxity.
A photographer was brought at one visit and her photo was taken along
with sights of the area; but photos of the stricken were not taken due
to sensitiveness of the people involved.
Aunt Matilda read the articles and she expressed gracefully her
compliment on the spirit of the copy, "Well written and to the point."
Her eyes scanned the replies of the authoritities written as a sidebar,
which expressed the gobbledegook of officialdom. It pictured the
authorities as dutiful servants of the citizens in this health crisis
and the copy praised their efforts in trying to find a solution.
The baton was passed to other newspapers and news magazines, both local
and national, and the pressure of their demanding words forced the
local health authorities to take further and immediate action. They
placed a call to the department of health at D.C., and all red tape and
bureaucratic interference fell by the wayside The resultant action
committed was seen in the area at the following days as varied experts
busied themselves in all sorts of scientific tests.
"Well, it over!" as James Judson expounded to Aunt Matilda in the
comfort of her parlor. "Yes, the source of outbreak of this so-called
plague had been discovered, just by the stint of thorough
investigation. The sampling of the water at the old quarry a couple of
miles from the town was found to contain chemical waste." The reporter
detailed how they scoured the area around the quarry, and how a mining
engineer found partial blocked caves filled with rusted barrels and
tins of chemical waste products. "It seems that the top boyos at the
metal processing plant at the nearby city's industrial zone needed a
convenient place to dump their garbage."
"Yup, the source has been found, but it will take a long time in the
cleanup effort." He continued by stating that the abandoned quarry, a
favourite swimming hole for the daredevils of the county, had been
closed off. The quarry rock was fortunately not porous and only minute
portions of its polluted water seeped into the ground water; geologists
stated that its surplus waters flowed into some underground channel,
coursing away from the town towards the nearby river. Still, he
reiterated that the authorities adviced all drinking water should be
boiled. "As to the perpetrators to this unlawful storage.. Well... the
courts are dealing with them!'
Droplets of tears flowed from eyes as she heard the good news, which,
in her mind, came too late to save her husband and son. Yet, she knew
that she was destined for a future crusade, a campaign that would earn
her accolades as well as brickbats.
Police chief Everest parked the cruiser carefully so as to avoid
parking even an inch to Aunt Matilda's driveway. Before he was able to
alight, the good woman, covered in a warm robe, was standing near the
open door. "Take a look at this litter strewn on my lawn," she
exclaimed. Chief Everest examined the offered three sheets, which
proved to be bills of lading. "Most probably whisked away from the
delivery man's clipboard," he muttered inwardly.
"Now, Aunt Matilda, I must have a word with you...."