Almost Eden

by Anita Horrocks

  A terrible urge came over me to jump up and run to home base and shout “home free!”

  “You shouldn’t be out of bed, Sally,” a voice said, firmly. Maybe even a little sharply.

  I caught my breath. It was a woman’s voice; the night nurse. Almost I could hear her frowning. More footsteps marched across the room.

  Sally. That was the girl we’d seen having the fit that day.

  “I couldn’t sleep,” muttered Sally. “It’s too schindashin bite.”

  Atta girl, I cheered silently. You tell ’em, Sally.

  “There’s no need for that kind of language.” The nurse’s voice was definitely sharp this time. “Come now. You have to stay in your room.”

  The nurse waited for Sally to shuffle back down the hall. Then she left, too.

  I took a huge breath, hugged my knees tight to my chest and waited for my heart to stop hammering. My hiding place got still stuffier every minute until I was smothering already. I couldn’t move, I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t hardly think. Little beads of sweat collected on my upper lip, and the back of my neck felt cold and clammy. That funny ringing in my ears was back again. Pretty soon I was going to pass out yet.

  If I passed out now, probably a janitor would find me in the morning, dead. Only then I thought some more about how the janitor probably never cleaned behind here and no one would find me at all until days later when my body started to decay and stink up the room.

  I checked. No dust bunnies. So they did clean. What was I thinking? Cleanliness is next to godliness, not? At least they’d find me right away then, if I did pass out.

  Now I was starting to get delirious. Sweating and gasping, I groped my way out from behind the piano, never even checking to see if the coast was clear. Never in my life had I been so glad just to have space to breathe. After a bit I calmed down again, enough to get my bearings.

  The lounge wasn’t too dark really, not like behind the piano. Light reached in the front windows from the parking lot and street. The exit signs glowed red on both sides of the room and the clock on the wall was lit up. Mostly though, light poured in from the front foyer. The doors on both sides of the lounge were wide open, just like during the day.

  God must be with me. Or else it was just dumb luck or the heat that made them leave the lounge doors open for once. Now I knew what Mom meant when she said even a blind hen also finds a good kernel now and then. Maybe if I found a few more good kernels this half-baked plan might work.

  Next thing I walked around a bit, working out some of the kinks from being scrunched up behind the piano for so long. Only every step I took my runners squeaked on the floor. So I took them off and crept silently in my socks. I checked to see if it was time to put the plan into action. Eleven thirty, Heather’s watch said. A bit early still, but I didn’t know for sure how long it would take for me to wake up Mom and convince her to come with. I didn’t let myself think about what would happen if she said no.

  I slid on my stocking feet, across the lounge and down the hall. Then I stopped again, because the first door I tried to pass was wide open. All along the hallway, most doors were open, because of how hot it was. What if someone was lying awake in one of those rooms and saw me go by?

  For a long time I stood there, frozen to the wall, not hardly daring to breathe, trying to get up the guts to go by those open doors. Then I heard voices somewhere behind me, at the other end of the lounge. And then footsteps, coming my way.

  I darted across the open doorway and down the hall, past one door after another. When I came to Mom’s room, I grabbed the doorframe, and swung through the open door into her room, flattening myself against the wall. Mom was sound asleep. She never moved a muscle.

  I was just in time. Footsteps followed me down the hall, pausing every few steps. Someone was doing a bed check or something. My eyes darted around the room, looking for a place to hide. The footsteps were coming closer. I dove under the bed, scrunching as far back as I could into the shadows.

  Two legs in white shoes appeared in the doorway. Above me, Mom turned over in her sleep. The shoes took a step inside the room. And another. I sucked in my breath. For sure this was it. I was done for.

  Then the shoes turned on their heels and left. I exhaled, but I didn’t dare move a muscle except for the ones I needed to breathe with. I waited, listening. The footsteps went all the way to the end of the hall and finally disappeared. When I was sure no one was coming back, I wriggled out from under the bed and slowly, carefully, closed the door. Then finally I could breathe normally.

  The lounge was a cool oasis compared to Mom’s room. Schindashin hite was right. And dark, too, now that the door was closed. I felt my way to the window and quietly slid open the curtains so the lights from the parking lot outside gave some light to see by. Maybe Mom would be less startled if she could at least see me.

  I sat carefully on the edge of her bed, hoping the movement might be enough to wake her up, seeing how she was getting more restless now. No such luck. For all I knew, they’d given her some kind of sleeping pill.

  “Mom,” I whispered. “Wake up.” I put my hand on her shoulder and gently nudged her.

  She mumbled under her breath but didn’t wake up. I tried again. “Mom! Wake up!”

  “Vaut es daut?” she muttered, rolling over, her eyes blinking like they were trying to open. “Vaut es louse?”

  I swallowed. “Nothing’s wrong, Mom. I’m sorry I scared you. It’s me. Elsie.”

  “Elsie? What are you doing here!?” She struggled to sit up, still drowsy.

  “Shhhh! Quiet, Mom. Please?” At least she knew me anyways. That was a relief.

  “Is something wrong? What’s happened–”

  She sat up and flung off the sheet, looking around in a daze. This was all wrong. I hadn’t meant to confuse her like this. Mom felt the night table for her glasses, only instead she knocked them to the floor. I scooped them up and handed them to her, helping her slip them on.

  “Nothing’s wrong, Mom. Honest. Everything’s fine. Really.”

  Mom reminded me of Wendy, sitting on the edge of the bed in her nightie, with her bare legs and feet poking out. But Peter Pan wasn’t going to come flying in the window to whisk us away. And I didn’t have any fairy dust, though it sure would’ve come in handy about now.

  “I want to show you something, Mom.”

  “It’s still dark outside,” she said, not really awake yet.

  “Shhh! Yeah. It’s nighttime.” I rummaged through her dresser and found a pair of slacks and a summer blouse and shoved them into her hands. “You need to get dressed. I have to show you something.”

  “Funny time to show me something,” she mumbled as she stumbled into the bathroom, clutching her clothes. For a minute I thought I was going to get away with it, that Mom was so groggy she would just do what I told her. Only then I guess she started to wake up because she stopped at the door and turned to me. “What’s this all about young lady? Why am I getting dressed in the middle of the night?”

  “I–It’s like this–” I threw up my hands. “I can’t explain, Mom. I have to show you. Please come with. I know it sounds crazy, but please” How was I going to talk Mom into going along with everything? Then I remembered all the adventures she’d taken me on when I was little. All the mud puddles we’d played in, the foxtails we’d pretended to swim in, the rain we’d danced in, and the butterflies we’d chased.

  I could feel the sweat trickling down my face and chest. “I really seriously want you to come with me, Mom. It’s my turn to take you on an adventure. Remember?”

  “An adventure?” She stood there for what felt like forever, until I was thinking that maybe she couldn’t remember, maybe all our adventures had been zapped out of her brain already. Only I hoped maybe one or two of them were still there yet. And then, the corners of her mouth smiled a little. “We haven’t had one of those in a while. I’d better get dressed if we’re going on an adventure.”

  I grinned, noddi
ng. “Hurry.”

  While she dressed, I slipped my runners back on and peeked to see that the coast was clear. I checked my watch again. We had to get moving.

  “The night-duty nurse isn’t going to let us just walk out, you know,” Mom said as she pulled on her socks and shoes.

  “We’ve got that covered.” At least I hoped we did. I hoped Jillian and Sadie had been able to get away. “Ready?”

  Mom stood up straight and held her hand out to me. The two of us walked out, hand in hand, bold as could be. When we reached the lounge I pulled Mom around the outside of the room, out of view of the open doors on the other side.

  “Stay here a minute, okay?” I whispered, leaving Mom pressed against the wall next to the exit. Crawling on my hands and knees, I peered around the corner.

  The nurse sat behind the front desk, filling out some papers. I slowly pulled back and scrambled to my feet. Then I checked my watch one last time.

  “Okay,” I whispered. “In a couple of minutes someone is going to start banging on the door. When the nurse gets up to see what’s going on, that’s when we get out of here.”

  Mom looked doubtful. “I’m not sure this is such a good idea, schnigglefritz. We should wait and go on an adventure tomorrow maybe, during visiting hours. We can’t–”

  A terrific pounding on the front door cut her short. I could hear a muffled voice outside, yelling, “Help! Please help!”

  Things started to happen. They started to happen fast.

  That was one of the things about adventures, I remembered now. Once an adventure got started it kind of swept you along.

  I heard a chair scrape back, and footsteps running to the door. I heard buttons being punched, which meant the doors were unlocked. Squeezing Mom’s hand, I risked another peek around the corner.

  The nurse stood in the doorway, holding the inside door half open. “Stop that racket this instant!” she hissed. “This is a hospital for goodness sake.”

  Jillian yanked the outside door open. “Please, you have, to help! We were racing. My friend fell off her bike!”

  The nurse peered around Jillian. “What in heaven’s name are you kids doing out in the middle of the night?”

  It wasn’t working. The nurse wasn’t budging. Move, move, I pleaded silently. Before someone else comes along to check what all the racket is about.

  “I think she hit her head!” Jillian cried.

  Someone screamed. Not just a scream. An ear-splitting shriek. Only one person I knew could scream like that. Lena. But Lena wasn’t supposed to be here.

  “Hurry!” another voice yelled from outside.

  I recognized Heather’s voice. What was going on? Sadie and Jillian were the only ones who were supposed to be out there. Heather sounded hysterical. She even had me wondering what could have gone wrong. Mom tried to push past me. I had to hold her back.

  The nurse reacted the same as Mom.

  “Don’t move her!” she called, dashing outside.

  “Now!” I ran with Mom to the front doors.

  Outside, Jillian had grabbed the nurse’s arm and was running with her across the parking lot to where Sadie lay sprawled on the pavement with everyone else huddled around. They’d chosen the perfect spot. Just beyond the light spilling from the front doors, and in the shadow of the weeping birch on the front lawn.

  “Okay, the coast is clear.”

  I shoved open the inside door, but Mom didn’t budge, not even when I tried pulling her along with me. It was like her shoes were all of a sudden glued to the floor. The next second, Lena popped out from behind some bushes. She ran around the railing and held the outside door open.

  “Hurry up!” she whispered.

  Mom’s eyes almost jumped out of their sockets. “Would someone please tell me what’s going on?”

  “I’ll explain everything,” I promised. “As soon as we’re out of here.” And then I pulled on Mom’s hand and Lena grabbed the other and we burst through the doors, into the night.

  Across the parking lot, everyone was still crowded around Sadie. The nurse had her back to us. Anyways, Eleanor, Heather, Naomi, and Joy all stood behind her, shielding the front door from her view even if she did turn her head. On the other side of Sadie, Jillian was watching for me.

  We didn’t hang around to see what happened next.

  Mom, Lena, and I ran down the walk and around the corner of the building. At least, Lena and I ran, pulling Mom along between us.

  Nine of us, with Mom in the middle, walked hand in hand in the dark along the top of the floodway toward the cemetery. It felt a bit like we were Jesus and his disciples, heading home after a hard day of performing miracles.

  For sure this adventure wasn’t turning out like I had planned. In the middle of explaining everything to Mom, my friends had come barreling across the floodway on their bikes.

  “What?” Jillian grinned when they caught up to us. “You didn’t think we were going to go home and let you have all the fun?”

  “Some people,” said Sadie.

  “I’ll never be able to explain this,” Mom was shaking her head and looking like she maybe was going to change her mind. “That poor nurse. You must’ve terrified her. She’s probably reporting the lot of you to the police right now.”

  I felt a little bad about tricking the nurse, too. “I promise I’ll go apologize to her tomorrow. Just come with us, Mom.”

  “Please, Mrs. Redekop?” pleaded Jillian.

  “Nah yo” said Mom, shaking her head. “I suppose I’ll have to, if only to keep an eye on you girls.”

  My friends cheered, even though the idea of Mom keeping an eye on us was sort of funny when you thought about it.

  I didn’t think I wanted to double Mom on my bike, at least not in the dark. So we left our bikes and started walking. All we had to do now was cut through the cemetery back to the main road and walk far enough out of town to get away from the lights.

  No one wanted to spend any more time in the cemetery than we had to. We hurried through, careful to stay on the paths and not walk on anybody’s grave. I’d never been in a cemetery at night before. Even with so many of us together, it was a creepy place. We were all huddled so close together that when one of us jumped at a shadow, we all jumped.

  Even after we were already out of the cemetery, I kept getting this shiver up my back like there was maybe something behind us, watching. I couldn’t help looking back just in case we’d maybe made some of those dead people angry, disturbing their peace, and they were following us.

  I didn’t see any zombies, but we weren’t a half mile out of town when I looked back again and saw headlights coming toward us.

  “There’s a car coming,” I said.

  “Hide!” someone squealed. I think maybe it was Eleanor.

  We all dove into the ditch to hide, automatically. We flattened ourselves in the long grass and peered out.

  Everyone except Mom, that is. She stood calmly by the side of the road.

  “For heaven’s sake, girls. I let you sneak me out of the hospital. I followed you through the cemetery in the dead of night. But I’m not going to hide in a ditch!”

  Mom was the smart one anyways. Already the mosquitos were eating us alive.

  The car pulled up beside us, stopping a few feet from Mom. Not just any car. Dad’s car. So it goes always.

  I stood, hauling Lena up with me. Car doors slammed. I couldn’t see who it was because the headlights were blinding me. Then Dad came striding into the light. “Esther? Are you all right?”

  “Mom?!” Beth was right behind him. “Elsie! Where’s Lena?”

  “Right here.” Lena peered out from behind me.

  Beth ran over and practically lifted her off the ground, she hugged her so hard. “How dare you scare us like that?! Again! We’ve been driving all over town looking for you! Of all the bonehead stunts–” She stopped sputtering to hug Lena some more.

  “What is going on?” Dad spoke quietly, between his teeth.

&nb
sp; Nah yo, I thought, and started talking. I’ve never talked so fast before in my life, trying to explain about taking Mom to see the stars and how I knew it would make her feel better and how I just wanted to do something, anything, to help, especially since everything was mostly my fault, and that I hadn’t been able to find Tommy but I really wanted to do this one thing for Mom, because maybe it would help make things right again.

  At first Dad kept trying to interrupt, but after awhile he gave up. There wasn’t much else he could do because I never shut up or hardly stopped for a breath even. Pretty soon stuff was coming out of my mouth that I didn’t know was in there, about how when Lena and I spent the night at that abandoned farmhouse there was something wonderful out there with us so I wasn’t afraid anymore. There was something in the stars and in the fog and in the night and inside me even.

  I kept on talking about how I knew in my heart of hearts that if Mom could see what I did that night, it would do her more good than any pills or treatments or anything else the doctors could give her. And maybe she’d feel happy again instead of sad. Even for a little while. So we were taking Mom out to have a good look at the stars, at the way they were in the middle of the night when there wasn’t enough room in the sky to hold them all. When it feels like you could practically reach out and touch God, He’s so close.

  “I think it must’ve been God,” I said. “That night Lena and I were lost.”

  I was more surprised than anyone. I guess I still believed in Him after all. Why else would I say all that stuff?

  “Are you done?” Dad asked. It was hard in the dark to tell how mad he was.

  I gulped. “Uh-huh.” Without looking I knew my friends were there, standing behind me, swatting mosquitos. “I’m done.”

  “It’s not all Elsie’s fault, Mr. Redekop,” Sadie stepped forward beside me. “It was my idea to pretend I was hurt so the nurse would open the doors.”

  “And it was my idea to have a pajama party at your place, so Elsie could sneak out and go hide inside Eden,” added Jillian, standing there on my other side.