Becoming Ellen

by Shari Shattuck

  Except for Lydia. Her face against the man’s chest was turned in Ellen’s direction and in the two seconds that Ellen was in her eye line, she saw the girl spot her, and recognition and hope lit up the child’s face. She sat up a bit, but Ellen put one finger to her lips. Lydia’s eyes darted around at the other adults, but she nodded, and then they were gone down the hallway.

  When they turned the corner, Ellen followed after them, passing the doorway to the small waiting room, as the older woman was explaining to Lydia that they would be right back. Ellen stopped just behind a deserted monitor that blocked most of her. She spotted a trash can and opened the lid, pulling out the bag, as though changing it, as the three grown-ups exited and walked a few feet in the opposite direction, where they began to speak in hushed voices.

  “So, it’s unlikely that she’ll regain consciousness if she doesn’t within the next week,” Serena was saying.

  Mr. Rush responded. “And how will that affect us trying to adopt Lydia? I mean, it doesn’t seem like she has anyone else.”

  Serena sighed, and Mrs. Rush leaned into her husband for support. He put an arm over her shoulder. “We have to wait to be certain that no one does show up. The state is required to perform due diligence looking for relatives, but right now there are no leads, which is good . . . and bad.”

  “Why?” Mrs. Rush asked steadily, but in such a gentle voice that Ellen wished she would say more.

  “Because unless Madeline Carson either signs off on her daughter or, well, dies, Lydia won’t be eligible for adoption.”

  “Where does that leave Lydia?” Mrs. Rush asked.

  “Well, she can stay with you for up to two years, and then we would need to place her in a different home.”

  “And how, in God’s name, is that supposed to benefit the child?” Mr. Rush asked.

  “The idea is for the child to not become overly attached to any family so that when it is time to go back, it won’t be too much of a jolt.”

  There was a long sigh from Mr. Rush, and he muttered, “Insanity. How can Lydia ‘go back’ to her mother? She’s in a vegetative state! Poor woman.” He sounded so genuinely sorry for Maddy that Ellen instantly liked him.

  “The system isn’t perfect, I know,” Serena said quickly. “But I’m sure you can understand, if it was your child and you were ill, you wouldn’t want someone else to be able to take them from you while you were unable to act. That’s the reason for the law.” She dropped her head and studied her ever-present clipboard. Very quietly, she said, “I’m sorry. In view of what the doctor just told us, I’d like you to fill out some further paperwork. You are willing to commit to long-term with Lydia, for now?”

  “Of course,” said Mrs. Rush emphatically. “For as long as she needs us.”

  “Good. Um, I saw an office with a desk back here, let’s go in and get this done, it will only take a few minutes.”

  Mr. Rush let go of his wife and walked back to the waiting-room door. “Lydia, sweetie? We just have to sign some papers, we’ll be right back. You okay?”

  Ellen couldn’t see Lydia, but she guessed that the girl had responded, because Mr. Rush smiled, said, “Good girl,” and turned back to the two women. He extended an arm. “Ladies.” They preceded him down the hall and the three of them disappeared.

  With an eagerness that amounted to yearning, Ellen slipped into the tiny waiting room. Lydia was sitting in a full-size chair, her feet dangling well above the stained carpet. Her face, turned to the wall, was blank of everything except confusion.

  “Hi,” said Ellen.

  Lydia turned toward her and her expression transformed. She leapt from the chair and rushed the few feet to Ellen, wrapping her small arms around Ellen’s thick thighs. Ellen responded, reaching down and patting Lydia on the back. Then, on impulse, she lifted the child and sat down in one of the chairs with her in her lap.

  “I’m so glad you’re here,” Lydia whispered. “Do you think my mom is going to wake up?”

  Ellen shrugged, feeling the child’s weight shift against her breasts with the movement. “I don’t know,” she said honestly. “I haven’t had a mom since I was five.”

  “Did your mom go to sleep, too?” Lydia asked, pulling back enough to look Ellen in the face.

  “No,” Ellen told her. “My mom left, when I was smaller than you, and I went to live with some other people, too.”

  “Were they nice?”

  Ellen’s throat squeezed so tightly that she almost choked, and the scars on her upper arm ached. “Not like your people. The Rushes are special, I think. Do you like them?”

  Lydia nodded, a little uncertain. “They have a really big house, it’s scary.”

  Ellen chuckled a bit at that. She could just imagine that Lydia had probably shared a small apartment or room and even a bed with her mom. The Rushes’ home would seem vast.

  “Do you have your own room?” she asked Lydia.

  The girl nodded. “It’s really far to the bathroom, and scary at night.”

  “I’ll just bet,” Ellen said. “But I know that you are a very brave girl. Remember, I saw you being brave, so I know. I think you’ll be safe there. It just takes a little while to get used to it. Do you understand that?”

  Lydia was watching her with her round brown eyes so open that Ellen felt like she could have just walked right in through the irises. The girl nodded slowly. “It’s nice to play outside. And there’s always food there!” Her voice rose slightly with this wonderful proclamation. “I miss Mama, though.” The last was spoken so quietly that Ellen felt the words more than heard them. She had no response.

  “I’ll tell you what,” Ellen said, worried that the grown-ups would return and she would be caught trespassing, or stalking, or whatever it was she was doing. “I’ll come and see you there, okay? But don’t tell the nice people I was here today. I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

  Lydia’s smile showed that she was glad to share a secret. She put one finger to her lips, the way Ellen had done, and said, “Shhh.” Her eyes sparkled.

  “Good girl. I have to go now. But I’ll come check on you, okay?”

  Lydia looked into her eyes and laid one hand on Ellen’s cheek. Ellen winced before she remembered that the horrible scar was mostly gone. “Do you promise?” Lydia whispered.

  “I promise,” Ellen said. She stood up again, hugged the fragile Lydia to her, and then put her down on the chair. “I’ll see you soon, Lydia Carson.” And she slipped back out into the hallway, where she found a spot to wait until the adults came and took the little girl away. Her last glimpse of the child was a tiny wave over Mr. Rush’s shoulder.

  When they were gone, Ellen found Maddy’s room again and went inside. It was small, with two beds. The second was not occupied. The room was cluttered with equipment, which left Ellen feeling bulbous and invasive. Maddy lay completely lifeless. Ellen stood for a few minutes, and then she leaned forward, the way she’d seen Temerity do, and whispered, “You don’t need to stay if it’s too hard. She’s going to be okay.”

  Then she turned and left that sad place.

  18

  Ellen was cleaning the office supplies section that night. She didn’t care much for this area because the entire row was stacked, three huge shelf levels high, with imposing boxes. Though the regular cleaners were only responsible for the lowest level, the only one they could reach, there was something about all that unfathomable technology occupying the air above her that made Ellen feel both apprehensive and ignorant.

  The other thing she didn’t like was that the Crows had been assigned to the produce section just at the end of her row, a bit too close for Ellen’s comfort. Though Ellen was entirely ignored by Kiki and Rosa, who, as usual, were so preoccupied with their gossip that they noticed nothing that wasn’t repeat-worthy. Beyond them, Ellen could see Thelma constructing an elaborate, prefab cardboard displa
y for gourmet dried fruit, something Ellen didn’t care for—unless it was covered in chocolate.

  Even from a dozen yards away, it didn’t take long for Ellen to learn from the Crows’ carrying banter that Bruno had been taken to the hospital, where X-rays had shown his lower leg was broken in two places and the ligaments around the knee had been torn when the leg had been twisted. The very thought of it made Ellen grimace and reach down to rub her own knee, sore from kneeling while she worked. She also found out that the worker who had hit him, Daniel, had not been found, but the police had discovered drugs in his apartment. Something called methamphetamine.

  So, the drugs in the dock men’s bathroom ceiling were methamphetamine. Ellen knew next to nothing about it, except for what she’d heard on the radio news, and that wasn’t much. She wondered again what she could do, short of telling someone and announcing herself as a witness. The thought of facing “authority” triggered her stomach fluids into a bubbling, acerbic water ballet. Then she thought of Detective Barclay and how brave he had been, taking on a violent aggressor and putting himself in danger to stay and help the injured bus driver. The memory made her grateful that people like him were out there in the world. Somehow it counteracted the faceless entity that was the government—not enough to balance the scales, but it gentled the world somewhat.

  She had only been working a half hour when she heard the sound of a heavy machine and turned, expecting to see Johnson and the floor polisher, but it was Eric who was himself driving the forklift tonight. Ellen watched him and the movement of the lift from the corner of her eye, recalling the smell of marijuana smoke as she had passed through the dock on her way in earlier, but Eric seemed to be expert at maneuvering the machine, even fully loaded with double-stacked boxes of printers, secured by strapping. He stopped in the first part of the aisle, just past where Rosa and Kiki were working.

  Glancing up, Ellen saw that there was a relatively open space on the very top level of shelving, maybe twenty-five feet up, under the roof supports. Eric set down his load on the floor of the aisle in a clear position, then, with the mandatory beep beep sounding, he backed up, jockeying into position to bring down the almost empty pallets on the top shelf.

  Both Rosa and Kiki were wiping down shelves at the end of the row of shelving where it opened onto the grocery section. Ellen could only see them through a small space above the stacked reams of paper below the spot where Eric was working. With the teeth of the lift raised to their highest level, he was trying to insert them into the base of the pallet. Judging from the angle of his seat so far below, Ellen could tell that it was probably not an easy thing to do.

  She returned to her work, and for a few minutes she heard nothing but the constant maneuvering of the forklift and its beeps. And then, over the din, she heard a shout. Turning to look past the forklift into the produce area beyond, Ellen saw that Thelma was running forward, waving her arms and shouting, though Ellen couldn’t make out what she was saying.

  Then she looked up.

  Jockeying the pallets far above him, Eric was sliding the heavy pallet with the printers into position without realizing that it was pushing against another one behind it, stacked high with large boxes marked PAPER, 5 REAM BOXES, toward the end of the aisle, and it was almost halfway off the end of the shelf, hovering directly over Kiki and Rosa, who were whispering together, completely unaware of the danger in the air above them.

  As Thelma ran forward, Eric looked up at her, and Kiki and Rosa both turned to look at the shouting woman. Just before the pallet toppled, Eric, who could not see what was happening on the diagonal, raised one hand and gave Thelma the finger. Thelma wasn’t looking at him though, she had her eyes fixed on the threat above. Almost in slow motion, Ellen watched as the crate began to tip. Kiki looked up, screamed, and immediately scrambled to one side, but Rosa was still staring at Thelma in confusion. The pallet and its heavy load began its downward descent. Thelma, in a full-out run, threw herself into the air and tackled the shocked cleaner, carrying both of them clear a split second before the boxes crashed to the floor, exploding in a ticker-tape parade of single sheets of white paper.

  Eric shut down the forklift and ran around to the aisle’s end to survey the damage. Rosa was lying on her side, moaning and gasping, her hands clutching her chest where she had taken Thelma’s shoulder, which had knocked the wind out of her. Ellen slipped quietly up just behind the forklift, where she could see through the shelves.

  Kiki was standing over her friend, exclaiming loudly, “Oh my God! Oh my God! We could have been killed. Oh, Rosa, thank God you’re all right.” Rosa, still gasping, looked up at the tall, thin woman, and though she had no breath to speak, Ellen was just betting that what she would have liked to say was “No thanks to you!”

  “Son of a bi—” Thelma was exclaiming when Eric interrupted her.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he demanded of Thelma. “Why didn’t you tell them to stand clear?”

  Thelma rose to her feet and stood panting and shaking. “Me?” was all she could manage. “Are you actually trying to blame me?”

  “Well, I couldn’t see them from around the corner, could I?”

  “You . . . Then why did you . . . What?” Words seemed to fail the produce manager.

  But she didn’t need any. Kiki was in the tall man’s face before he could even formulate a reply.

  “How dare you!” she was shrieking. “You almost killed us both, and Thelma saved my friend’s life. You say one more word and I will slap that smug righteousness right off your face!” The rant continued but Ellen didn’t hear any more of it. Knowing that anyone who witnessed the accident would have to give a report, she had turned and was making her way back to the locker room.

  But she was thinking, Perfect.

  It was only a short time later when Rosa limped into the locker room. She was supported by Kiki, who was still ranting in a constant stream. “The nerve of him! I’ve never lodged a complaint against that man and his behavior before because Jimmy works for him. I know he’s your nephew’s son, and I was worried Eric would fire Jimmy if we ever said anything against him. Ooh, I’m so mad I could spit!”

  Rosa sank onto the bench that surrounded the central lockers in a large U shape and leaned against the wall. “Ouch,” she said, rubbing her chest. “Same here, but I’m going to report him this time! I know I smelled marijuana on him! You think I don’t know that smell? My daughter has fifteen-year-old twins!”

  Kiki shook herself and made fists out of her calloused, long-fingered hands. “But what if Jimmy loses his job? He’s got a baby on the way. Uh!” she groaned. “I suppose you’re right, I can’t imagine Eric will stay after that, anyway. Did you see Billy’s face? He was furious, and six people saw what happened!”

  “If he doesn’t get fired, and messes with me or Jimmy, I’ll . . . I’ll . . .” Rosa trailed off.

  “I know,” Kiki said soberly. “Eric is the kind of guy who might do something crazy, you be careful. But I’ll tell you this—I will never say another word against Thelma. That woman is a hero! And if I hear anyone else bad-mouth her again, they are going to answer to me!”

  After the barrage leveled at Eric that Ellen had just witnessed, she didn’t doubt it.

  “You just sit tight,” Kiki told her friend. “I’m going to get you a bag of ice.” She hurried off to the break room. Rosa groaned a little and leaned her head back, closing her eyes.

  Summoning solidity, Ellen said softly, “He’s selling drugs.”

  Rosa’s eyes flew open and she turned toward the darkest corner, where Ellen was sitting, partially blocked by the lockers. “What?” she said.

  “Eric. He’s selling drugs to the other workers. Maybe if you told him you knew that, he wouldn’t fire Jimmy, or make more trouble for you.”

  Rosa was peering at Ellen with a shocked curiosity. “How do you know?” she asked.
/>   “I saw him, and I saw the drugs when they came in.”

  “Why didn’t you tell someone?” Rosa asked breathlessly.

  “I . . .” Ellen faltered, almost at the end of her brief episode of bravery. “Because I would have to prove it and . . . because I don’t do that. I mean, speak up. I can’t.”

  Rosa sat absolutely still and unblinking for a moment, and then she nodded. “You’re the one who was shot last year. It was you and your friends who helped Irena.” Ellen didn’t respond. Rosa seemed to sense her discomfort and dropped her eyes. “I understand,” she said. She leaned forward to smooth her smock and pull her skirt down over her knees.

  When she looked back up, Ellen was gone.

  Ellen did not return to the scene of the accident. Instead, she moved on to her next assignment and spent a pleasant few hours dusting the books and music section. It amused her to see the titles of the books that were “best sellers.” Occasionally, she would select one and flip it over to read the description on the back. Very few of them interested her. Though she liked the heft and weight of the hardcovers, she’d spent so long reading paperbacks that these seemed unruly. Then she came to a picture book. It had beautiful black-and-white images of old-time movie scenes. She thought of Rupert telling her about the dim and quiet movie house and imagined seeing those images bigger than life and moving, telling the whole story. She flipped the pages, intrigued and curious. The silver photos were so expressive and filled with character. She checked the price. It was on clearance for only $4.99. Ellen slipped a copy underneath the stack of trash bags on her cart and continued working. She saw no more of Rosa or Kiki that night, but would have bet a month’s paycheck that Eric, and most likely she herself, were the subject of much discussion.

  When the shift ended, Ellen slipped the book into her bag and decided to work off the book next week. This Thursday morning she had something else she needed to do.