by Louise Corum
“Elka?” he whispered. “I have breakfast ready. Why don’t you get up and eat?”
She didn’t respond.
“Elka?” he said and stopped at the foot of the bed. He peered over her and wondered why she wasn’t moving. Then again, the new medicine was stronger than the last. Before he left to see Kathleen, he’d try to feed her then give her the medicine so she’d sleep most of the day away.
He grabbed her foot and gave it a little shake. She didn’t move. That’s when he noticed that she was in the same position as when he had put her to bed. Usually, she was a very restless sleeper and was in and out of bed, sleeping on the floor, then back in the bed and sometimes all over the house.
“Elka, get up,” he said. “I don’t want to be late for work.”
But then he remembered. It was Saturday and he didn’t have to go into work. All his plans for the day became scrambled in his mind. Maybe he’d had too much whiskey. For a few minutes, he couldn’t think straight. Could he still call the doctor? Still see Kathleen? Maybe. He didn’t know. Finally, he got his wits back and knew what to do. He’d have to start making calls early though, to catch everyone before they went out for the day.
“Elka, come on,” he said and shook her foot again. Her sock slipped off and that’s when he felt her cold flesh. He dropped her foot and backed away from the bed. He almost panicked. But then, he was probably just panicking for nothing. He went back to her, this time leaning down in her face and told her again to get up.
She wasn’t breathing. He began to panic for real. He backed away so quickly he almost fell to the floor. He regained his composure, then stumbled again and fell against the wall. What the hell was going on here? He thought about it, then remembered shoving the pills down her throat. He stared at her and wondered how many pills he’d given her. Surely no more than usual.
He was hallucinating, that’s what he was doing. He was drunk, maybe. Was he still drunk? He couldn’t be, could he? He steadied himself and got up and went back to the bed and nudged her. Her body was like rubber, thick, unmoving rubber. Rigor mortis had already set in, he realized. “Elka?!” he cried.
Then he realized that she was dead and that he had killed her. This was his fault. He’d killed his own sister. He’d burn in the fiery depths of hell for this. And he should. He knew he’d done it inadvertently, but then, had he? Had he done it on purpose? Oh, why?
“Fuck!” he yelled and shook his fists. “Fuck!”
He paused for a moment and thought that maybe, just maybe, he could use this to his advantage. But no, that was wrong. He didn’t do it on purpose. But maybe he did. He shook his head, trying to shake the thoughts out, but they kept coming, reminding him that he had wanted her dead, out of the way. But he knew this wasn’t true. He just wanted things to be better.
He felt out of control, crazy. But the thoughts kept coming anyway… No one knows about her. Kathleen had told him everyone thought she was in an institution. No one cares. It was an accident and why should he blame himself? Besides, she drove him to this. He could have been more careful but Elka had put him in a spot that had forced his hand, that had forced him to overdose her.
What about the old doctor?
John thought about that. What about the old doctor? He didn’t care. John knew he could call him and tell him he was putting her in an institution. Then he could see what the doctor said about that, see how he might react. Then he would know what to do next. But what if he wanted to examine her before she went in? Wouldn’t he need him to help him commit her? The thought made John panic even more.
John sat there for a long time staring at his lifeless sister, not moving. He didn’t know how long but when the panic died down, he suddenly realized there was nothing he could do. She was dead and it was probably his fault.
He remembered the old doctor’s warning about how things could get out of hand and she could end up hurt, or worse, dead. And so now she was. She was dead. Now there was hell to pay; he just knew it. If he didn’t cover up, he could go away for a very long time.
If he called the police they could, in fact, charge him with her murder, even if it was accidental. Sure, he was a prominent businessman from a prominent family, but what if he couldn’t prove it was an accident? What if he couldn’t prove that he didn’t murder her?
However, the police might not react like that. They might just call it accidental from the get-go, write a report and move along. It was accidental, after all. Surely it was that obvious.
Maybe he could say she just died in his sleep. He’d heard stories of mentally ill people dying in their sleep all the time. Perhaps their erratic behavior overtaxed their hearts or something. With the police involved and his status in the community, it would inevitably be in the papers and Kathleen would know he’d lied about having her in an institution. She might even wonder if he’d killed Elka to get her out of the way so she could move in. If this happened, Kathleen would run from him. She would think he was a horrible person. He’d be ruined from ever having her in his life.
But maybe not. Kathleen was nothing if not rational. He thought about it and realized this was an accident, after all. He’d been warned about how she could get out of control. No, he wasn’t at fault. He looked around the bedroom, nodding to himself. He was just panicking, trying to cover up something he didn’t even really do. As he looked around, he noticed that Elka’s closet was, for once, in pristine order. All of her dresses were on hangers and all of her shoes lined up along the floor. The last maid, the one who’d quit a few months earlier, the one he hadn’t replaced as of yet, must have done that and Elka hadn’t had a chance to destroy her work.
He froze. The last maid. The maid. The maids. How many maids in how many years? How many had heard him scream at her that he would kill her? How many had witnessed him chasing her around the house? How many had called him at work, begging him to come home, that she was wild, out of control? How many times had he gone home in a rage and started cursing at Elka in front of them? How many maids had she told, in her paranoid delusion, that he was plotting to kill her to get her out if the way? One of them might step up and say something like, “He threatened to kill her. I heard it.” Or they might say, “She always said that he was trying to kill her. I guess he finally did.”
“Fuck!” he yelled. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”
All it would take was one to open her mouth. That’s all. One and it could all be over. The only choice he had was to tell everyone he’d put her away in an institution. If not, he’d risk everything. No one would question it. Word would get around to the maids and they’d all nod and say he should have done it a long time ago. Many had told him to do it, that she was wild, uncontrollable. They’d felt sympathy for him but not enough to hang around and put up with Elka.
No. No one could know. He had to cover it up. It was the only solution; otherwise, things could get sticky and overcomplicated and, with this situation, John had had enough of sticky and complicated. He just wanted to be free. It might have been wrong, but he was taking this opportunity to finally have a life of his own.
He drew a breath and asked God to forgive him and went downstairs to the phone. He stared at it for a long time, realizing that what was done was done and there was nothing he could do about it. Nothing but try to work his way out of this hairy situation.
So, without further thought, he picked up the phone and dialed the doctor’s number. It was early, but he knew he’d be up, as he’d called him this early before. He answered on the fifth ring.
“Hello?”
“Hello, Dr. Reynolds?” John said.
“Hello, John,” he said. “What’s the trouble today?”
John took a deep breath and said, “It’s Elka, sir, I can’t control her anymore. She’s sleeping right now, but I do believe I’ll have to put her in an institution.”
The doctor drew a breath and said, “I see. Did the new medication not work?”
“It wore off fairy easily,” John said and realiz
ed he could tell the doctor was barely listening to him. “So, anyway, I’m going to make the arrangements next week. I’ve actually been looking into some facilities out of state.”
He paused at the end of the lie and waited. The doctor sighed. He was tired, too. He’d had to come to the house many times to give Elka injections when she went over the edge. He’d fought with her, was slapped and mauled by her. He knew how she was.
“I hate to do it,” John said. “But it’s getting too bad.”
The doctor said, “Well, you did it as long as you could, son. Most people would have already given up on her.”
John nodded.
“She’s not going to get any better, either,” he said. “You did good, John. Just do it and don’t worry about it.”
“Okay, sir,” he said.
“Whereabouts are you thinking about sending her?”
John thought quickly and came up with, “South Carolina. I heard they have a good facility near Charleston.”
“Well, I’m sure they do,” he said.
“It’s just my mother didn’t like the thought of Lakeview,” John said.
“I remember that.”
“And I want to do the best thing for Elka,” he said. “It’s a drive but I think I can get up there to visit a few times a year.”
“Certainly,” the old doctor said. “Do you need me to do anything?”
“No, sir,” he said, hoping the doctor wouldn’t press to be involved. “I’m going to take care of it myself. I just wanted you to know.”
“Well, the doctors there will evaluate her,” he said. “What’s the name of the facility?”
John breathed a sigh of relief because he had done research years earlier and the name of the place had always stuck with him. He said, “It’s called Morningside.”
“Oh! Morningside! That’s a fine facility. You don’t have to worry about her there. She will get the best care.”
“I know,” John replied. “She will.”
“Well, if you need anything, let me know,” he said.
“Uh, Dr. Reynolds?” John said.
“Yes?”
“Umm… About Elka… Umm… I never knew what happened to make her the way she is. Do you know?”
He paused before he said, “John, all I know is that your mother brought her in here one day and she was hysterical. She wouldn’t say why and I didn’t press. Whatever happened is locked inside Elka’s head.”
John nodded. “Thank you, sir.”
“Would you like me to check on her once she’s been admitted?” he asked.
John froze and couldn’t think of a reply, but then said hurriedly, “We’ve troubled you so much, sir, I couldn’t ask this of you.”
The doctor gave a sigh of relief and said, “Very well, John.”
“Okay,” John replied, feeling relived that the doctor was tired of treating Elka and was happy to be free of her.
“Have a good day, John,” Dr. Reynolds said. “And call me if you need me.”
After John thanked him again and hung up, a sense of relief overcame him. He didn’t dwell on it, though and got to work. He went upstairs and changed into some jeans and an old flannel shirt, then found a pair of work boots in his closet he’d bought a few years ago, thinking he’d start working in the garden. He never did, though. He didn’t have the time.
Once he was dressed, went into the garage and got a shovel, then went into the backyard and stopped, surveying the right spot. He looked around at the high stone wall which surrounded the back property and was covered in ivy. He looked back over the lawn, which was vast and wide, then at the back garden which had grown almost wild. He remembered the beautiful plants and trees and shrubbery that had been trimmed to resemble animals from when he was a child. Now they were overgrown strange looking things. He hadn’t been allowed to play in the garden as it was his mother’s favorite place. But after Elka began to really go downhill, his mother didn’t care what he did and let the garden slide into disrepair, as she had the house. It was too much for her to keep up with. Elka demanded too much of her attention.
John felt grief and remorse began to slowly build inside of him as he surveyed the grounds. He began to shake a little thinking of what he had done and was about to do. But he had to do it and quickly. This had to be done now. His feelings could wait. So, he shook himself and looked around, his eyes settling on the perfect spot, right before the back garden started. There was a sunken place there and the ground gave a little. Always had, ever since he could remember. He thought it might be easier to dig there. Plus, it might be better to keep her closer to the house.
And then he began to dig the grave.
It was arduous work. He didn’t know the ground would be so hard, as it was early spring and there had been quite a lot of rain. The digging seemed to take forever. Luckily, they owned a huge lot, nearly four acres, and there were no neighbors to bother him or any deliveries that morning. He worked into the afternoon and then, by early evening, he had the grave dug. It was only about three or four foot deep, but he supposed it would work. He’d cover it with rocks, too, just in case.
Climbing the stairs to her room was hard and he had to stop a few times because it began to hit him that she was really dead. He’d stop and a sob would escape his throat and he’d feel guilt over doing this, over not being the best brother he could, over possibly killing her. He hated that it had ended like this but realized he didn’t have a choice in the matter, just as he’d never been given a choice in taking care of his sister. At that moment, however, he was about survival. Something very instinctual had taken over and it was guiding him. What was done was done and he knew that burying her in the backyard was the right thing to do. Most people wouldn’t understand it. But then again, maybe they would. He didn’t want to take a chance either way.
He cried as he went into her room and wrapped her in her favorite quilt. He stood back from the bed and studied her, tears streaming down his cheeks. He stared at her small, stiff body and another sob escaped his throat. He bent down and uncovered her face, then smoothed her hair back. He looked down to see the mermaid necklace she always wore, tangled in her hair, right at the nape of her neck. He untangled it and pushed it inside her shirt.
This was it. He had failed her and that was all there was to it. There was nothing left to do. And, so, with nothing left to do, he bent over and picked her up and carried her downstairs and into the backyard and to her grave. And there he laid her to rest.
“I’m sorry, Elka,” he said and placed her in the grave as gently as he could. He noticed that he’d never seen her look so peaceful. His heart broke at her beauty. She didn’t have a wrinkle on her face and for a moment, he could hear her voice, when she was younger, singing some old song.
It wasn’t fair; whatever it was that had happened to her, it wasn’t fair. She didn’t deserve it. She could have been so much, could have done so much, broken so many hearts. But the only thing she’d done was go crazy.
He wiped his tears away and hesitated before he got up. He told her, “Elka, I want you to know that it was an accident. I pray you’re in heaven with Mother and Father. If so, tell them I did my best and I’m sorry it ended up like this.”
He hoped she would.
At Peace
The house was so quiet. John walked around and marveled at how silent it was and how big. He’d never noticed that before, perhaps because he’d never stopped to really see the place. His life thus far had mostly been about chasing Elka around, trying to get her to take her medicine, to take her bath, to go to bed, to stop torturing the poor soul he’d tricked into being their maid. He had never really had a chance to stop and appreciate the size of the house.
But the house was a mess. There were cobwebs in the corners, dust all over the fine furniture and things strewn all over the place. It was dirty and it needed tending to. He thought about that and about what to do then realized he could get another maid, someone who had never been to the house, obviously.
This one might stay now!
He felt ashamed at the sense of relief that was now washing over him. It was like an obstacle in his life had been removed and the first person he thought of was Kathleen. He could marry her now! He could have children, if she liked. He didn’t even know if he wanted them or not. That didn’t matter at present because he knew that he wanted her and he also knew he’d do whatever she wanted. If she wanted kids, they’d have kids. It was that simple.
He could have a life now. Kathleen did love him. It was time to make his dreams come true. He grinned at this thought. He would do it. Now. But first, a quick shower and a change of clothes. Digging graves was dirty work.
It was almost dark when he finally climbed into his car, intent on heading to Kathleen’s apartment. When he got there, he saw that her car wasn’t parked on the street. She wasn’t home. He felt disheartened and dropped his head. She’d probably never talk to him again, not after the cold way he’d rejected her.
He pulled away from the curb, wondering what to do now that he had all this freedom. Maybe he’d travel. But he didn’t really want to travel; he just wanted Kathleen. He wanted her so badly this need eclipsed everything else in his life.
But then the thought occurred to him: Had it also eclipsed his duty to take care of his insane sister?
He grimaced at the thought and pushed it away. Even from the grave, Elka had a hold on him. He hoped that hold wasn’t unbreakable.
Another thought: It was an accident. You can’t feel bad your whole life over it.
But he had a feeling he would.
He decided to stop by the office and finish up some paperwork he’d been neglecting all week. He felt another stab in his heart at the thought of never having Kathleen again but pushed it away. If she didn’t want to take him back, maybe he would travel, get out of Knoxville and go around the world. God knows he had the money to do it. He could even go first class.