A Season of Change

by Beth Wiseman

  But every time Rose recalled the story and the part about Gus being ashamed of the man he was, she sensed that there must be remorse. Rose agreed with Esther. Buried beneath the grumpiness there was a tinge of goodness in Gus that needed to be nurtured. Most people just didn’t have the patience to tolerate the man’s rude and obnoxious behavior. Even Rose avoided him when she could. But Esther was possibly the kindest woman she’d ever met. Rose often wondered what life would have been like if Esther—or even Lizzie—had been her mother. It was sad that neither of them was able to have children.

  Rose went back to washing the dishes. She didn’t think anything she said would change Lizzie’s opinion about Gus. She didn’t know how things had become so volatile between the two of them. She wasn’t sure if it was personality clashes, which Gus had with everyone, or if it was something more. Lizzie despised the man more than most.

  “Will you be going with Esther to the hospital again?” Rose glanced over her shoulder.

  “Nee. I only went the first time for Esther, in case Gus was seriously ill.” She rolled her eyes. “Because, despite everything, if he had been Esther would have been upset.” Lizzie chuckled. “Although a part of me is tempted to go. I’d enjoy seeing Gus get kicked out of his vacation accommodations.”

  Rose wondered what Esther would say. Would she simply state the truth to the hospital staff? How would they react? Or was she hoping Gus would own up to his lies after learning how upset Esther was? As the scene unfolded in her mind, one thing was for sure. Gus Owens was going to be livid. Rose would make it a point not to be around when he returned home.

  * * *

  Esther paid the driver before she traipsed to the bench in front of the hospital where she and Lizzie sat before. Visiting hours didn’t start until eight o’clock, and it was only seven thirty in the morning. She should have asked about that on the phone.

  She had a half hour to speculate about how things would play out.

  It had rained sometime during the night, and the showers brought cooler temperatures. She should have known it would rain since she went to bed with achy knees. It would warm up during the day, but right now she was basking in the post-rain aroma that filled her senses, giving her a brief respite from the task at hand.

  She smiled at two nurses who passed by her and wondered if either of them had tended to Gus. It was unlikely. There were bound to be many nurses on staff.

  Esther took a deep breath. Gus was going to be very angry with her when she foiled his vacation plans. But with every step forward that Gus had taken toward being a better person, this was a huge setback, and Esther’s disappointment in him fueled her decision to be here. Normally it wasn’t her way to meddle in the affairs of others, unless it was related to matters of the heart. She and Lizzie couldn’t resist the temptation to play matchmakers, which circled her thoughts back to Rose. Smiling, she hoped things worked out for the young couple.

  Finally, she forced herself to consider her options for telling the staff that Gus was taking advantage of them. Would he be tossed out immediately? Perhaps Gus would deny that he was faking anything. He might yell and scream at Esther, which would be embarrassing. When it came to Gus, there was no way to know.

  She glanced at the time on her mobile phone, the one she and Lizzie shared to call drivers or in case of an emergency. Her ponderings had killed some time. It was five minutes until eight, so she hoisted herself from the bench and made her way to the entrance of the hospital, unsure whom she should talk to. Perhaps she should visit Gus first and give him an opportunity to make things right on his own.

  Esther breathed in the unwelcome odors of the hospital as she approached the information desk not far from the main entrance. “I’m here to see Gus Owens.”

  A woman about Rose’s age studied a computer in front of her. “Sure. He’s in room 226.” The woman pointed to the elevators. Esther wondered if Gus had a preference for the second floor. She decided to go see him and give him an opportunity to confess to the staff.

  She passed the nurses’ station. The two women didn’t seem to notice as she walked by, both of their heads down as they flipped through a stack of papers.

  Esther dragged her feet, wishing she didn’t have to do this. When she reached room 226, the door was closed so she knocked, not wanting to catch Gus in a compromising position. Last time, she’d heard laughter. But all was quiet. Maybe he’s napping.

  She eased the door open. Wake up, Gus. Vacation is over.

  But the room was empty. She recognized Gus’s red-checkered shirt draped over the back of a chair and his worn-out brown running shoes next to the bed. She couldn’t recall Gus actually running anywhere. He was obviously somewhere in a hospital gown. Whatever ailment he had concocted, it must allow for the freedom to roam the halls. Esther was unsure whether to wait or go to the nurses’ station.

  After a few minutes of standing in the room, she left and went to where she’d seen the two nurses. They were still there, but this time they looked up at her as she approached them.

  “Can I help you?” the older of the two women asked. Perhaps she was training the younger lady.

  “I’m looking for Gus Owens. I was told he is in room 226, but he isn’t in there right now.” Esther paused as her chest tightened, deciding it was better to just get this over with. “He isn’t really sick,” she said barely above a whisper.

  The older woman, possibly ten or fifteen years younger than Esther, took off a pair of black reading glasses and set them on the desk in front of her. “Excuse me? How are you related to Mr. Owens?” She eyed Esther’s dark-green dress and black apron.

  “I’m his . . . landlord. He rents a cottage from me and mei sister.”

  The same woman said, “Ma’am, if this is about a rental dispute or something like that, you’ll need to speak with Mr. Owens.”

  Esther shook her head as her stomach began to churn. “Nee.” She swallowed hard and leaned closer. “I have become aware of the fact that Gus—Mr. Owens—is taking advantage of a situation. You see, he isn’t really sick.”

  The woman held up a finger and moved to a computer nearby. After a few seconds, she asked, “What is your name, ma’am?”

  “Esther Zook.”

  “I’m sorry, Mrs. Zook, but you aren’t listed as someone authorized to receive information about Mr. Owens. You can ask him to add you to the list of people who can receive updates about his condition.” She sighed. “Actually there isn’t anyone on that list right now.”

  Esther shook her head. “Nee, nee. That’s what I need to tell you. Mr. Owens was here a week ago. He told me he was on vacation, that he had faked his illness so that he could stay in the air-conditioning and have as much food and pie as he wanted.” She paused as both women scowled at her. “It isn’t mei place to be here, and maybe I should have talked to Mr. Owens first and given him a chance to be honest about his intentions. But I fear he is doing the same thing again, pretending to be sick when he’s not.” Esther’s stomach clenched. What if a person goes to jail for a deception like this? It was too late to take it back, though. “I felt like someone should know.” She stood taller and raised her chin, even though she was questioning what she’d just done. “Maybe I should have stayed out of it,” she said softly.

  The same older woman turned her attention back to the computer. “I see Mr. Owens has a long history of visits here, but he hasn’t required overnight care until the visit you mentioned from a week ago.”

  Esther was aware Gus had been to the hospital for tests and checkups in the past. He told her so when he brought her to her own medical appointments a year or so ago.

  “I’m sorry I can’t tell you more. Mr. Owens is probably not in his room because he was scheduled for some tests this morning.” The woman eyed Esther up and down again. “That’s really all I can say. There is a waiting room down the hall and around the corner if you’d like to wait for him to return. I can let you know when he’s back in his room.”

  Any reg
ret about telling the nurses the truth left Esther. Whatever tests Gus had conned the staff into giving him only made his deceptions worse. She shivered as she thought of the tests she’d had in the past. Esther was terrified of medical issues, and here was Gus, opting to have examinations just to maintain his lie.

  “The man is not sick.” Esther spoke more firmly this time. “Gus Owens is lying to you. He is faking an illness so that he can stay here and have a break from the heat this time of year. The cottage he rents does not have air-conditioning.” She paused, shaking her head. “I admit that with every year, it becomes harder and harder to endure the summers, but for Gus to fake being sick is just despicable. It’s not fair to other patients who might need your care and treatment from the doctors. I could not in gut conscience allow him to keep going with this.”

  “I’ve had enough.” The younger woman slammed her palms against the desk, her face ablaze with reddening anger. “My father died of leukemia. I assure you, it’s not something you can fake, and—”

  “Shelley,” the older woman interrupted. “Please . . .” She hung her head, shaking it as she frowned.

  “I’m sorry, Loraine, but”—the younger woman’s bottom lip trembled—“I thought you Amish were all godly and . . . to say that Mr. Owens, that nice older man, is faking a terminal illness, it’s just beyond my comprehension. You don’t sound like a friend at all. No wonder he doesn’t have you down as someone we are authorized to give information to.”

  Nice older man? Esther blinked her eyes in confusion as she considered the possibility that they were looking at the wrong file. Leukemia? Terminal illness? This had to be a case of mistaken identity.

  The older woman—Loraine—began to scold the younger woman, but Esther didn’t hear much of what she was saying.

  Gus came around the corner, dressed in a hospital gown and seated in a wheelchair. A man pushed him along and held a rolling pole that had Gus hooked up to wires and tubes.

  Esther’s feet somehow took her down the hall as a knot built in her throat. Loraine called after her, threatening to call security. They probably thought Esther was crazy, evil, or both. She stopped in front of Gus.

  “Esther?” He was pale. His beard needed tending to, but that was normal. He said her name again, but she was too stunned to lift her jaw back into place. “I guess I have some explaining to do.” He scratched his forehead.

  Loraine was quickly by Esther’s side. “Mr. Owens, do you know this woman? She said she is your landlord.” The woman turned to Esther and shot her a look of contempt. “But she’s made some hideous claims about you.”

  Gus lowered his eyes to his lap, and when he looked up, it was to look at Esther. And there were tears in his eyes. “She’s my friend,” he said softly in a shaky voice.

  Terminal? Leukemia? A tear rolled down Esther’s cheek.

  “Now, now, Esther.” Gus hung his head again, discreetly swiping at his eyes. “I guess we need to have a talk,” he said as he looked up at her.

  Esther sniffled, brushed away a tear, and walked alongside the man pushing Gus down the hallway to room 226. Thankfully, the two women went back to what they were doing. Esther couldn’t even look at them.

  When Gus reached for Esther’s hand, she took his and squeezed it. Gus had been there for her through a round of terrifying tests with a diagnosis of a stomach ulcer.

  This was much different. Esther’s knees were weak, her temples pounding, and her heart . . . in shambles. Maybe she cared about Gus Owens more than she cared to admit, even to herself.

  Chapter 11

  Esther waited outside Gus’s hospital room while the attendant got him settled in bed, which only took a few minutes.

  “You can go in now,” the young man said with a smile as he came out of the room. “He’s a character.”

  She wasn’t sure what he meant by that, but on shaky legs, she opened the door and stood just inside the room.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” She clutched her black purse with both hands, a part of her wanting to turn and run so she could go cry by herself. The other part of her wanted to rush to Gus and throw her arms around him. Instead she chose not to move.

  Gus pointed to a chair next to the bed, which instantly made Esther wonder who else might have visited.

  “I thought I could get through this without a big fuss.” Gus’s jowls hung lower than usual. “But it ain’t looking like that.”

  Esther didn’t want to use the word terminal. Did Gus even know that was the prognosis?

  “After taking care of me when I had all mei medical tests, didn’t you think I would tend to you?” Esther’s bottom lip trembled.

  “I drove you in my truck. You just needed rides.” He rolled his eyes.

  Gus seemed exactly the same to Esther. She recalled what the nurse had said—nice older man. Maybe when your life is in the hands of others you tend to be more vulnerable, thus kinder.

  “It was more than that, and you know it.” Esther thought back to the times when she was afraid. Gus had comforted her in his own way, a bit gruff sometimes, but he’d been there for her.

  “I didn’t want you all upset like you are now.” He turned his head away from her. “I don’t like to see you cry.”

  Esther’s heart was in a state of confusion, thumping madly, and possibly cracking at the same time. “I’m all right, Gus. Now tell me what you know.” She forced her lip to be still and kept her voice steady.

  He slowly moved his head until he was facing her. “I’m dying.”

  Gus made the statement so matter-of-factly that Esther’s chest contracted again.

  “You don’t know that. Only God decides when it is our time.”

  “Well, your God seems to have made a decision where I’m concerned. And He blessed me with some sort of rare blood type, which only complicates my situation.” He rested his arms across the white cover draped over his enlarged belly. One hand had an IV atop his wrist, and there was a gadget on the forefinger of his other hand that seemed to be monitoring something. The machine by the bed beeped continuously, which only added to the fear brewing inside Esther.

  “First of all”—she considered how best to say what she was thinking—“we have had this discussion before. My God is your God too. He will not abandon you in your time of need, and—”

  Gus chuckled. “I will debate that until my last breath. If that were true, then where was He all my life?” He waved the hand with the IV dismissively. “Don’t answer that. It was a rhetorical question. I know where He was. Absent. And it’s too late for me to reach out to an entity that I don’t know.” Pausing, he held his palm up, the tube dangling from his wrist. “Don’t make me your charity case when it comes to God. I’ve told you before, and I’ll tell you again—there’s a spot in hell saved especially for a man like me, probably on the front row nearest the furnace.” The color in his face was coming back. “You’re the only friend I got, Esther, so let me go in my own way, and don’t push your religious stuff on me.” Sighing, he said, “It’s too late for me.”

  The Lord’s calling was impossible to ignore. It wasn’t their way to minister to others, but Esther could hear God speaking to her. Bring him to Me.

  She put a hand to her trembling lips. Did she imagine the voice in her head? If not, was it confirmation that Gus was going to die? Did God expect her to guide Gus into a relationship with the Lord so he would go to heaven?

  “It’s never too late,” she said as she locked eyes with Gus, blinking back tears.

  The nurse—Loraine—came into the room. She smiled at her patient, then squinted an evil eye toward Esther before she turned back to Gus. “Mr. Owens, is everything okay in here? Is there anything you need?”

  “Thank you for checking on me, Loraine.” Gus smiled at the nurse. “I’m doing just fine, and I appreciate you.”

  Esther put a hand over her mouth when her jaw dropped.

  “Well, Shelley and I can be here in less than a minute if you need us. Just push the red
button.” Nurse Loraine cut her eyes at Esther before she turned back to Gus, smiling. “The cafeteria has chocolate pie today. Do you want me to set aside a couple of slices for you?”

  “That would be wonderful.” Gus flashed her a big smile. “Don’t tell the others, but you and Shelley are my favorites.” He winked at Loraine. “Prettiest ones in the bunch too.”

  Loraine giggled as she waved him off and left.

  Esther lowered her hand and gave her head a quick shake. Maybe she’d fallen, hit her noggin, and lost her mind. She rubbed her forehead. “Who are you and what have you done with Gus Owens?”

  He frowned before he let out a heavy sigh. “On the off chance my seat isn’t closest to the furnace, I’d like to go out on a good note.”

  Esther shook her head. “Gus, why can’t you treat everyone as nice as you just treated that nurse?”

  He shrugged. “Hadn’t been much of a point ’til now.”

  Esther grinned. “Welcome back. That’s the Gus I know and—” She stopped abruptly as she realized what she’d almost said. And in her own way, she did love Gus. But helping the man find redemption was a tall order.

  Gus raised an eyebrow as if he was waiting for her to finish the sentence. Instead, she wanted to circle back to something he had said. “You said you have a rare blood type. How does that complicate your situation?”

  “There’s a blood shortage, in case you haven’t heard.” He rolled his eyes again, and Esther had to remind herself that Gus was ill. Otherwise, she would have reprimanded him for his curt tone and eye rolling. “I’m AB negative, and only one percent of the population is. Aren’t I lucky?” He took a breath, then started coughing and reached for a glass of water on the bedside table.

  “So, what does that mean?” Esther tapped her foot nervously as she chewed on a fingernail, something Lizzie usually did, not her.