eating once a day," he observed.
"That's the story for most everyone here," she agreed sadly.
"Lillian!" Father Stebbins' voice boomed in hearty congratulations behind them. T.S. jumped and knocked a chili spoon flying, splattering the weary linoleum with a new layer of gunk. Grumpy Fran was right behind Father Stebbins, tailing him like a faithful dog. She stared first at the spoon and then at T.S.—clearly, he was as troublesome as she had first suspected.
"The chili was a success," Father Stebbins thundered on. "I knew you could do it! Just a smashing success. Why, look at those happy campers!" He threw his arms out in the general direction of the dining room and they stared obediently at the mechanically munching crowd. No one looked particularly ecstatic.
"Theodore!" Auntie Lil suddenly clutched his sleeve in fright and pointed across the room. "That woman's in trouble." Another volunteer's scream followed her cry.
A frail old woman, dressed much like the other old actresses, had been sitting at a table away from the main group. She was struggling up from her chair and her face was blue. Her mouth hung open in speechless agony. Her tablemates stared up mutely in mystified astonishment. Her arm jerked suddenly and upended her plate of chili. It clattered to the floor and slid across the linoleum, leaving a trail of sticky brown goo.
"She's choking!" T.S. cried, sprinting across the room to her, with Father Stebbins close behind.
Before they could reach her, the old woman clutched at her heart and fell to the floor, losing consciousness. Her body jerked slowly, picking up steam until she was shuddering all over in spasms that came in waves. She gasped for breath desperately, like a fish gaffed in the gills. She regained consciousness briefly and turned her face to T.S. Their eyes locked for a single, horrifying second. He saw complete terror trapped beneath the milky blue of her irises just before she arched and lapsed unconscious again, her body writhing uncontrollably as her breath returned in rapid, agonized rasps.
"She's not choking," Auntie Lil said. "I think she's having a heart attack."
"I'll call an ambulance," one of the young volunteers shouted. He vaulted over the railing and disappeared toward the back.
"Does anyone know CPR?" Father Stebbins yelled, his head whipping wildly from side to side as he scanned the stunned diners watching the drama. Adelle and the other little old ladies had risen as one from their table—they stared, paralyzed with fear.
"Emily!" one of them croaked, a tiny hand fluttering to cover her mouth as if she had somehow been impolite.
"I know CPR," T.S. remembered. God, it had been years since he'd had those Red Cross classes. What to do? Breathe in her mouth? Thump on her chest? She was so frail he'd crack her ribs if he did it incorrectly, and probably puncture a lung.
Her body had stilled with an ominous suddenness, but he knelt beside her anyway and lifted one of her hands. It was as thin and light as a young tree limb dried to a fire-ready tinder. He felt for a pulse and could find none. Her veins were as thin and spidery as ink tracings. He reached under her neck, watching as her lips quivered, then froze. Her breath smelled faintly of alcohol. Her eyelids ceased fluttering abruptly and opened as her whole face grew still, eyes slowing to a stop until she stared at T.S. in permanent surprise. Even as he groped for the carotid arteries, hoping for a pulse, T.S. knew the woman was dead. And that nothing would bring her back. He found his CPR position anyway, and carefully pumped at her chest, stopped, then tasted the bitter void of her mouth as he tried to breathe life back into her body. There was no response. He tried for a minute more before giving up.
"She's beyond CPR," he said out loud. Auntie Lil dropped to her knees beside him and checked for herself. She nodded in agreement and looked up at the crowd.
"I'm afraid she's dead," she announced with just the right mixture of concern and impersonal calm. It was a calm that T.S. knew she did not feel. Auntie Lil was not afraid of much but, he suspected, death headed the list. She was too old not to realize that it lay in wait for her and she shuddered involuntarily whenever its dark breath passed close by. But she was also a woman consumed by common sense and she knew that the last thing they