Determined to get out of a foul mood that was creeping in, I sat up straighter. “It was perfect timing for me. Beaver Creek has a party scheduled for the residents in their new community room. It’s called Evelyn’s Party Room. Kind of cute, isn’t it?”
Clair finished the last drop of her lemonade. “I’ve been watching the construction over there. They’ve added a whole new wing of rooms, haven’t they?”
“They inherited money for the addition from a previous resident. It’s the funniest story. Did you know Evelynton once had a different name?”
“What?” Clair gazed at me. “No way. And I would know, with my connection to real estate.”
Anita laughed. “You should spend more time with the senior citizens of Evelynton. They love to talk about it.”
She warmed to her subject. “It was originally named Craughville, after the founder and first mayor of the town, Jeremiah Craugh.”
Clair groaned. “Ugh. I’m glad they changed it. How would you like to tell people, ‘I’m from Craughville’? So, how’d they come up with Evelynton?”
Anita leaned in. “I guess Jeremiah’s wife developed a serious case of empty-nest syndrome when their kids grew up. She started nagging her husband to do something to make her feel fulfilled. Guess what her name was? Evelyn. The only way Jeremiah was going to have any peace was to give her the town. Rumor is, they first renamed it Evelyn’s Town, and it gradually became Evelynton.”
I laughed. “And the moral to that story is, if you want something, nag. Have you heard this part? Fast forward something like a hundred years, and one of Evelyn Craugh’s descendants moved into Beaver Creek. When she died, she left them a chunk of money in her will for additional resident rooms and a big activities room. She was adamant that the activities room be named Evelyn’s Party Room. And she wanted it to be next to the pond. You know that little puddle is a ways from the original building, so they put resident rooms and hallways in between.”
Clair leaned back in her seat. “I drove by the construction and wondered what in the world they were doing. The building meanders all over the property.”
“The new resident rooms aren’t finished yet, but they’re christening Evelyn’s Party Room tonight. There’s a little musical group coming to entertain. Louise is so excited. She wanted me to be there as her date. I have just enough time to make it.”
I slid out of the booth. “Night, girls. I’m off to a deliriously exciting night of toe-tapping with the over-eighty set.”
The contrast between my night life and Clair’s gave me a headache. Wouldn’t mind a little excitement, but what could happen at a nursing home?
Chapter Thirteen
I punched in the code and pushed through the doors of Beaver Creek. No welcoming committee. Everyone would be at the party in the far side of the building. I’d been down these corridors when Helen gave me the tour of the new construction, but tonight the meandering halls were shrouded in an eerie silence. No old people shuffling along, no call-button beeps or television noise. Just quiet—and the sound of my own breathing. I walked on until the faint notes of a barber shop quartet told me Evelyn’s Party Room was near.
I scanned the crowd from the doorway, searching for the tiny woman with fluffy white hair, among the other cotton-haired women of various sizes.
Deloris stood out with her black hair. Not many wore hair color, and none as dark as hers. She waved from her table near the stage, where she sat beside Mallozi. He turned a scowling face to me and returned his attention to the singers.
Hmmm. Friendly guy.
Susan, one of the younger aides, stepped over to me. “Hi, Lauren. Louise went back to her room. She wanted to use her own bathroom before we start the chair dance.”
“What kind of dance did you say?”
“They chair dance, because most of them aren’t too steady on their feet. It’s like dancing, only sitting. They wave their hands and tap their feet. Louise would love it if you’d join in.”
“I might do that. I can’t be much worse at chair dancing than I am on my feet.”
Susan checked her watch. “Louise has been gone long enough. She’s probably fine, but would you mind checking on her? She insisted she could go on her own, and she had her walker. I have to stay here and help with the others.”
I muttered to myself. “Why would you let a ninety-year old woman go all that way on her own?”
Susan didn’t hear because she was carrying it across the room. “I’ll set this at Louise’s table for you.”
“Sure. Thanks.”
Okay, I’d power walk back to the other side of the building. Maybe I’d count it as exercise. Clair would be proud.
I rounded the last corner to find Louise standing in her doorway. Her little head turned to peer down the hall, one way and then the other.
“Are you okay, Louise?”
“Oh Lauren, I’m so glad to see you. It’s that darn walker. I got it stuck behind my recliner. Could you pull the pesky thing out for me?”
“Of course, I will.” Muttering to myself again, about neglectful staff, I yanked the walker free and positioned it in front of Louise.
Together we shuffled the vacant halls. Louise told me about her day. She had a painting class—finished a flower picture. She wasn’t thrilled with the dessert they served with lunch. She thought pineapple was an odd flavor for Jell-O.
Soon the rousing harmony of male voices echoed through the corridor, and we walked into the party at full swing.
Louise sang along and swayed to the tunes. Personally, a couple rounds of “Ain’t Misbehavin” and “Frog Kissin” were plenty. I was getting antsy.
The nurses began moving chairs to the center of the floor, preparing for more fun. Louise clapped her hands and looked at me. “Oh, we’re going to dance. This is fun. You’ll love it.”
“Louise, I’ll want to take a picture with my phone, but I must have left my handbag in your room. I’ll be right back.”
Louise flashed me a smile and a wave. I slipped out, looking forward to the solitude.
Trekking the vacant halls, I soaked in the tranquility, until everything went black.
Crap.
Someone had accidentally hit the light switch. I stood still and waited for them to realize their error. It remained pitch black.
I made an effort to help them recognize the mistake. “Hello? Excuse me. Did someone turn off the light?”
No response.
The minutes ticked by. My voice squeaked. “Hello?”
With a deep breath I fought to remain calm. Was there a motion detector to conserve energy? I jumped up and down and waved my arms. Nothing happened.
Thinking on that, a motion detector didn’t make sense anyway. Some of the residents didn’t move enough to keep it activated. The power would be flipping off all the time.
After about two more minutes, I finally accepted the hallway would remain dark. So, stretching out my arms in front of me, I shuffled on. Since I’d been this way three times that evening, I was fairly confident of the path.
Oh, thank goodness. A light shone in the next corridor up ahead, so I let it draw me forward, ignoring the butterflies in my stomach.
I was almost there, ready to be in the light, when it extinguished. I stopped short. Everything was pitch black again.
Crap.
There must be some explanation for this bizarre event. Maybe an overly enthusiastic orderly or janitor.
“Hello?” I spoke in an elevated, but non-hysterical voice. “Would you turn on a light, please? I know you thought everyone was out of this area. I’m sorry to make extra work, but I’m on my way to pick up my handbag from a resident’s room.”
The only reply was a squeak of rubber-soled shoes in the distance. The aide was probably irritated at having to return to the control panel. I waited, but there were only more distant footsteps.
Now the fear approached paralysis level. I fought to tamp it down, but my heart pounded harder. With mincing steps, I edge
d forward with one hand on the wall until I reached what I thought should be the corner. I needed to turn, but which way? Funny how I could be so disoriented by the mere lack of illumination.
Not really so funny.
Right seemed to be the correct direction, so I followed the wall around the corner and walked on.
Solitary footsteps broke the silence again, sounding as if they were somewhere ahead of me.
I raised my voice, louder this time. “Hello? I’m sorry, but I’ve gotten myself lost. Will you turn on the lights? Please?”
Only maddening, breath-smothering silence.
Moving on, my eyes ached from straining to see.
I’d gone too far. Must have missed my turn.
I pivoted and began my trek back the way I came, sliding my hand along the wall, stumbling across the intersection where I’d made the wrong turn.
In this corridor, I came to a door. A room. There would be a light switch just inside.
I grabbed the handle and turned. Locked. Moving on, faster this time, I found another door and almost cried when the knob wouldn’t turn.
Why were the rooms bolted? I told myself to calm down. The workers secured the rooms because construction was still in progress. Rational dissolved in the pitch-black corridor. My heart pounded against my chest, and panic boiled up from my stomach. I yelled. “Help! I’m in the hallway and I’m lost. It’s too dark to find my way out.”
I paused, took a couple deep breaths, and begged, “It’s silly, I know. Please turn on a light for me.”
No answer, except faint rubbery footsteps from somewhere behind me.
I didn’t bother raising my voice. “Who’s there?”
With renewed resolution, I forged ahead, one hand on the wall beside me and one stretched out into the ominous future. I came to another corner and fell into the open space. Which way should I turn?
Footfalls behind me. No time to deliberate. I turned right and kept my hand on the wall, my only sense of stability. I continued stumbling along in the dark, moving as fast as possible, straining to listen for the presence of another. My own breathing came too hard and loud for me to hear anything else.
Wait, there ahead I caught a quick glimmer of light. It flashed and was gone in a second, maybe from a passing car. Possibly through a window?
Yes, there must be a window or a door. I ran blindly toward the light, or the hope of the light, until I slammed into a glass door. I must have made it to the back of the building. I laughed with relief at the sight of distant streetlights.
I fumbled for the keypad and after messing up the security code twice, I finally got it punched in and the latch clicked. Pushing the door open tripped the alarm, loud and welcome. Security would be alerted. I stepped outside, bending at the waist to catch my breath.
The alarm stopped abruptly. What? Was the person following me close enough to disengage the siren?
I ran for the street lights, slipped on wet grass and found myself face down in the dirt. My knees stung, but I pushed myself up and trudged on.
The front of Beaver Creek was illuminated, gloriously. I pushed through the lobby door and was so relieved I giggled uncontrollably. The sight of the activities director brought me to my senses. Helen stood alone in the reception area with her clipboard and pen.
She gazed at me for a moment. “Lauren, what on earth happened to you? Are you all right?”
I looked down at my mud-stained hands and knees. “Um, I slipped on the grass out in the yard on the side of the building.”
She tipped her head to the side. “Oh, I see. What were you doing out there?”
“It’s crazy. I was in Evelyn’s Party Room and went back to Louise’s room to get my bag. Somewhere along the way the lights went out. I guess an aide, or orderly, or someone, turned them off. I didn’t realize it would be so dark. I got lost in the new wing. It was awful until I finally found an outside door.”
Helen gave me a gentle smile and explained. “No, dear, we never turn out the corridor lights. That would be dangerous for the residents.”
“That’s what I thought, but the lights were definitely out.” I reached down and brushed at the dirt smudges on my pants.
Helen shook her head. “Are you sure? Because that’s unacceptable. We could be sued. Show me where this happened.”
She headed for the new residents wing.
I limped along behind her. “I heard someone in the hallway. Footsteps. I guess they were playing a joke on me because they wouldn’t answer when I called.”
“None of our people would do such a thing. Besides, everyone is helping in the community center. You know any of our employees would have helped you if they’d known you were in distress. There must be some mistake.”
The first hallway was brightly lit. I caught up with Helen and limped ahead. “I know I was in this general area—somewhere.” We turned the corner to yet another illuminated hallway.
Helen turned to me. “Which lights were out?”
I pointed at the ceiling lights. “These. All of them.” We hurried to the next hallway where all the lightbulbs blazed. “All of these lights were out.” I kept walking and peered down the next hall.
Helen caught up with me and placed her hand on my shoulder. Her compassionate eyes and smile were so comforting I almost let down my guard. Then I remembered where I’d seen the well-practiced expression, often used on the dementia patients. “Well, as you see, they’re all on now. Let’s go back to Louise’s room and get you cleaned up. And I’ll help you get your handbag.”
I stood my ground. “I know I didn’t imagine it. It was pitch black.”
“Uh-huh.” She took my hand and tugged me back down the hall until we were in front of Louise’s room. I allowed her to guide me to the big green recliner. Helen stepped into the bathroom, while I sat questioning my sanity.
She came out with a wet cloth and gently wiped my hands and my chin. “You’ve been working very hard lately. When’s the last time you had time off? I know living alone is stressful. The responsibility of a house and all. But everyone needs a vacation from time to time. You tell Rarity you want a week off, and maybe take a break from writing too.”
She turned the cloth over and dabbed at the stains on the knees of my pants.
Her overly comforting tone of voice began to grate on my nerves. “I know. Why not stay in a cabin at the lake? I bet you can rent one at a reasonable price. Take a rest, enjoy nature, and don’t worry about anything.”
Helen flashed a bright, annoying smile. “There.” Once finished tending to me, she returned the cloth to the bathroom.
“That’s an idea.” I grabbed my handbag from Louise’s bed and hobbled to the door. I just wanted to go home.
“Thanks so much, Helen. Would you tell Louise I was tired and went home?” I left without waiting for an answer and gingerly walked down the corridor.
Helen called out. “Of course. She’ll understand. I bet you’re worn out. I meant that about taking a break.”
I waved over my shoulder and pushed through the front door, making it to the middle of the parking lot before I thought to scope out my surroundings. It was a well-lit lot, but creepy, dark shadows lined the perimeter. Suspicious shapes appeared under trees and near the building. I clambered into my car. After pushing down the door lock, I turned to make sure the other doors were secure.
I’ll have to trade this car in for one with automatic locks.
The Chrysler engine roared to life and I shoved it into gear. Imaginary shadows followed me all the way home.
Chapter Fourteen
A beam of sunlight shot through the narrow opening between the curtains. I shielded my eyes from the glare. I’d tossed all night long, my mind sorting through terrors of the evening before.
Had it been a dream? Skinned palms and knees confirmed it had happened. Sore muscles resisted as I flipped over to go back to sleep.
The clock glowed from the nightstand.
Crap. I’d arranged to meet Clair
and Anita for coffee.
It would only take one call to cancel. No. I needed to talk to them. Helen hadn’t believed me, but my friends would give me their unbiased opinions.
I crawled out of bed and pulled on a pair of jeans. In the light of day, the adventure sounded crazy, even to me. My injuries would prove at least part of it was real.
I filled Mason’s food bowl and scratched his ears before finding my keys on the way out.
I was halfway to the car when Murine popped out of the bushes at the side of her yard. Still jumpy from the night before, I skidded to a stop. When my heart slowed down, I laughed. “I was so distracted I didn’t see you. How are you?”
“Wonderful. Isn’t it a beautiful day?”
My gaze landed on the large butcher knife in her hand. “Uh-huh.”
It took me a minute to notice purple flowers in her other hand. “You’re cutting a bouquet. How pretty. Are they lilacs?”
Murine smiled. “Yes, I think they are. They’ve always grown here, but this will be the first bouquet I’ve taken into the house. Clive always said they’d drop petals on the floor. He never liked the smell either. Can you imagine not loving such a sweet scent? But he’s not here now, so I do what I want.” She lifted the bouquet to her nose and smiled.
“He’s away? That explains it. I mean I usually see him a few times a week, going to and from work, but haven’t in a while.”
It explained a few other things, such as the new Murine.
A sweet smile took over her face. “Clive took a vacation. A long one, I think.”
“That’s nice. Where did he go?”
“He’s fishing in Canada. A couple of his old buddies talked him into going.”
“I take it you’re not into fishing?”
Murine shook her head. “Definitely not. Would you believe he’s so far up in the wilderness, they don’t have electricity or telephones? Not even cell service.” She pulled a couple leaves from the branches she held. “I haven’t talked to him since he left.”
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