Tranquility

by Laurie Gardiner

  TRANQUILITY

  BY

  LAURIE GARDINER

  Escargot Books and Music

  TRANQUILITY

  Tranquility

  Copyright © 2014 Laurie Gardiner. All rights reserved.

  Laurie Gardiner asserts her moral right to be identified as the author of this book.

  Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without prior permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  ISBN 978-1-908191-98-4 (ePub)

  ISBN 978-1-908191-51-9 Trade Paperback

  Escargot Books and Music

  Ojai, California

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  I’d like to thank Bea Metzgar, Enza Osborn and Jeff Brubacher for sharing their expertise and advice with me. Thanks also to my beta readers, Keith Gardiner, Margaret Chester and Michele Curtis for their input and advice.

  Chapter 1 – Edie

  MY LIFE CHANGED THE DAY Edith MacAdams came into it. I remember it well. It was my first day working in Tranquility’s dementia unit and the same day Sam Turner ran streaking buck naked through the halls.

  A thin brushstroke of crimson lit up the edge of the dark eastern sky when I pulled into the staff parking lot that morning. Light tendrils of mist danced in my headlights and crept like skeletal fingers around the massive, gray stone building.

  I stepped out of the car with coffee in hand and slung my duffle bag over my shoulder. The crunch of fallen leaves stirred underfoot. Breathing in the crisp, clean smell of autumn, I strode into Tranquility, eager for a new beginning after five years of working the nightshift.

  The nursing home was eerily quiet so early in the morning. I made my way through the long-term care unit, down a long, gloomy hallway into Dementia, without seeing a soul. As I passed the first hallway, I caught movement from the corner of my eye and turned to look. A tall, lanky man with a shock of white hair hurried down the hall toward me. He wore only black silk boxers covered in bright red lips. They sagged at the waist, threatening with every step to slide off his slender hips. The shiny fabric hung loosely around his spindly, white legs.

  “Hey,” he called when he spotted me.

  I waited where I was.

  He stopped a few feet away and peered at me suspiciously. “Who are you?”

  “I’m Sarah. And you are…?”

  “Sam. Can’t find my damn clothes. Need to go to work.”

  Sam Turner. I’d been there a few days before, studying my new residents’ charts, so I knew he was one of mine. Before I could respond, a petite brunette in scrubs popped her head out of the room behind him. “Sam, you don’t have to work today—it’s Saturday. Come with me and I’ll help you find your clothes.”

  He shook his head in confusion.

  “And your music. Your daughter left music for you.”

  Sam’s eyes lit up. He turned without a word and followed the woman down the hall.

  I made my way across the main hall toward the change room, sipping my coffee and studying my surroundings as I went. The walls were a soft, welcoming shade of sunny yellow, the faint aroma of urine not quite masked by the smell of bleach and lemon-scented cleaners. The clock on the wall above the deserted nurse’s station said ten after six. I frowned, annoyed with myself for being ridiculously early as usual, and went into the change room.

  It was a small room with one wooden bench between two rows of beat-up green lockers. Another room to the left contained two bathroom stalls, a shower stall and a long counter with two sinks. I placed my bag on the bench and sat down beside it to change into my work shoes. I was leaning over, tying my laces when the door flew open with a bang.

  “Morning,” sang a pretty redhead as she breezed into the room. “You must be Sarah.” She continued talking over her shoulder as she pulled a pair of white shoes from a locker. “I’m Tracey. Lucky you, you get to work with me in Hall B.”

  I wasn’t sure how to respond to that.

  She smiled much too brightly for the early hour, dropped the shoes on the floor and plunked down on the bench beside them. “Can’t wait for you to meet our residents. Man, have you got some characters on your side of the hall.”

  I thought of Sam and smiled. “I think I met one of them on my way in here. His name was Sam.” I picked my sneakers up off the floor and set them in the bottom of a locker.

  “Yup, he’s yours. Was he wearing anything?”

  “He had boxers on. Silk boxers covered in big, red lips.”

  Tracey chuckled as she tossed her boots into her locker and slammed the door shut. “Must be your lucky day. Usually he’s naked first thing in the morning. Key with Sam is to make sure he’s always got his music. That’s what makes him happy and keeps him out of trouble.”

  I zipped up my bag and placed it in the locker on top of my shoes. “Thanks, I appreciate it.”

  “No prob. Some of the residents go out with family on Saturdays so it might be a light day. You need any help let me know. I’m off to the staff room to grab a quick coffee. Meet you at the nurse’s station in five.” She waved and was out the door before I could say a word.

  The morning passed quickly. Tracey helped me out when she had time and we teamed up after breakfast to make beds.

  “So,” she said as we pulled the linens down and straightened the bottom sheet of the first bed. “You happy to be off nights?”

  “Happy isn’t the word. I’ve been waiting five years to get on days.”

  “Four for me, but it seemed like forever. I was always so friggin’ tired.”

  “Me too. It was really hard when my daughter was younger. I used to stay up and miss sleep so I could spend time with her.”

  Tracey stopped working and stared at me. “How old is she?”

  “Six. Her name’s Kayla.”

  “Wow, you barely look old enough to have a kid, let alone a six-year-old.”

  “I’m twenty-five. I’m more than old enough.”

  “Exactly. You’re the same age as me, and I’m so far from ready for kids. Course, I try pretty hard to be immature,” she said, grinning impudently.

  Later that morning, during my break, I took Edith MacAdams’ file into the staff room and studied it. She was due to arrive before lunch and would be taking the empty bed in 8B with Mrs. Sellers whose previous roommate had died.

  I was at the nurse’s station after my break, replacing the file, when Edie arrived.

  A thin, sharp-featured woman strode purposefully through the doors, pushing a woman in a wheelchair. She glanced around the main hall with a frown, and I wondered if the deep furrow between her brows was permanent. The woman in the chair, head down, hands wound together tightly atop the small bag on her lap, looked tiny and frail in the oversized coat she wore. Trailing slowly behind was a small, timid-looking man. His eyes darted around the room nervously as he pushed his glasses up higher onto his nose with one hand and struggled to pull a large wheeled suitcase with the other.

  I stepped out from behind the nurse’s station to greet them. “Hello,” I said, crouching down in front of the wheelchair. “Are you Mrs. MacAdams?”

  She lifted her gaze to my face. Her eyes were unexpectedly clear and bright and full of fire. “I am.”

  “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Sarah Scott, one of the personal support workers in Hall B. Welcome to Tranquility.”

  “Thank
you, lass. You can call me Edie.”

  I heard an impatient sigh above me and stood up. “Hi, it’s—”

  “We heard you,” the woman said, looking down her beak-like nose at me. “This is Tom, her son.” She jerked a thumb over her shoulder at him. “I’m his wife, Anne. We’re in a hurry. Is there anything we need to do before we go?”

  Ignoring her brisk, bossy tone, I nodded stiffly and said, “Just the last of the paperwork to finish up. I’ll take Edie to her room and you can join us when you’re done.” I gave Tom and Anne directions to the room before wheeling Edie down the hall. “This is the dining room.” I stopped in the doorway to let her have a look. “Lunch is in half an hour. If you like I can bring you down and help you find a seat.”

  “No need, lass. I’m sure I can find my way.”

  Across from the dining room was the lounge; a big room full of comfortable furniture and a large flat screen TV. Two women reclined on the sofa watching an old black and white movie. Another was slumped over in her wheelchair in the corner, snoring softly. A trail of drool ran down her chin into the creases of her neck. Sam was in the corner…pulling down his pants!

  “Sam! I’ll be right back, Edie.” I hurried over to the corner as his pants dropped to his ankles. “Do you need to use the bathroom, Sam?” I asked quietly.

  He nodded.

  “Okay. Pull your pants up and come with me, please. I’ll take you to your room.”

  He shrugged nonchalantly, pulled up his pants and followed me into the hall. I apologized to Edie and we continued on to Hall B with Sam in tow. Edie waited patiently outside Sam’s room while I went in and made sure he used the toilet. I left him with instructions to pull up his pants and wash his hands, and then took Edie to her room.

  Tom and Anne came into the room as Edie and I unpacked her small bag. Anne stood over Edie, who still sat in her wheelchair. “Goodbye, Mother. Be sure to listen to the nurses and take your meds on time every day.” She looked at me and whispered loudly over Edie’s head, “She can be very stubborn at times. Don’t be afraid to be stern with her.”

  “I’m sure she’ll be fine.” My tone was pleasant, but I wanted to slap her.

  Anne turned to Tom. “Say your goodbyes quickly, Tom, and let’s go. We have things to do.”

  Tom put a hand on Edie’s shoulder. He bent down, kissed her cheek and spoke into her ear softly. “I’ll see you soon, Mom. Don’t worry, you’ll be fine.”

  Edie raised a trembling hand to clutch at Tom’s.

  Anne took hold of her husband’s arm and gave an impatient tug. “Enough! Good Lord, it’s not forever. We’ll be in to visit next weekend. Let’s go!” She stalked out of the room as though expecting him to follow.

  Tom smiled apologetically at his mother and turned to leave as a scream echoed through the hallway. He and I looked at each other and rushed to the door in time to see Sam streak past. He was naked and grinning from ear to ear. I peeked around the corner. Anne stood flattened against the wall with her eyes tightly shut, muttering “Oh, my God” over and over. Lily and Beth, the inseparable twin sisters, were at the other end of the hall giggling like giddy schoolgirls.

  Sam stopped, turned around, spread his arms wide and did a little dance. “Come and get it girls!” he yelled at the twins as his parts dangled and swayed between his legs.

  They covered their eyes with their hands and giggled even harder as they peeked at him through their fingers. Tracey came out of a room at the end of the hall near Sam. She grinned widely when she spotted me with Tom and gave me a wave and a wink before turning to take Sam by the arm and lead him into his room.

  I turned to Tom. “Sorry, apparently he does this every so often. I’m sure he’s harmless.”

  Tom simply nodded and smiled, but there was a twinkle in his eye. He went to his wife, who was still pressed against the wall looking horrified. She ranted at poor Tom as she rushed away, as though the whole episode were his fault. He followed silently after her.

  Shaking my head, I turned to speak to Edie and was startled to find her standing behind me. “Well,” I said, trying to hide my surprise, “it’s too bad they couldn’t stay a little longer.”

  “Och, Lass,” Edie scoffed, “I’ll be better off without the both o’ them.” She continued unpacking, moving quickly between the bed and the wardrobe as she spoke. “That woman is a tyrant and has been a pain in my arse since the day they met. And Tom, well, he’s my son and I love him, but he has nae backbone. He has nae stood up to that woman once in the all the years they’ve been married.”

  She paused and took a deep breath before she continued. “I’m sorry, lass. I tend to revert to my Scottish roots when I’m angry.” She hung her head and her shoulders slumped. “Being here is not my choice, you know. It’s Anne’s doing. I used to stand up to her when I was younger and stronger. I guess I had more fight in me then. Now, it’s easier to stay quiet. She’s worn me down for too long and I’m tired.”

  “No need to apologize, Edie,” I said, taking the clothes from her and hanging them in the wardrobe. “You have every right to be angry.”

  We worked in silence for a few minutes before she asked, “That man who was running down the hall naked, why does he do that?”

  “Sam? I’m not sure. I think it’s the type of illness he has that causes him to do…strange things. It’s my first day, too. I worked upstairs in the palliative care unit until a couple of days ago, so I’m still getting to know everyone.”

  “Well,” Edie said with a grin, “I’ve a feeling he’ll be keeping us entertained.”

  We continued unpacking. Edie talked and I listened. As for the wheelchair, I helped her fold it up and tuck it away in the corner, and that’s where it stayed.

  * * *

  I found myself thinking about Edie on the drive home later that day. There’d been an instant connection between us and I looked forward to getting to know her better. She reminded me of my grandmother, with her sharp wit and straightforward, no-nonsense way of speaking.

  My daughter, Kayla, had been home all day with my mom and grandmother. She ran to the door and flung herself into my arms when I walked into the house. I scooped her up, hugged her tight and breathed her in. “I missed you, munchkin.”

  “I missed you too, Mommy.” She wriggled out of my arms impatiently and scampered back into the living room yelling, “Nana, Gran, Mommy’s home!”

  She was a non-stop bundle of energy and had her dad’s carefree, happy nature. How different would her life be if he were still alive? She was missing out on everything I remembered so fondly about my own dad; weekends at the trailer, fishing, long talks under the stars at the campfire. I closed my eyes and could almost hear the deep rumble of his voice against my cheek as I snuggled on his lap, the smell of wood smoke filling my nostrils as I breathed him in. Kayla had only been a baby when her dad had died and would never have memories of him to keep close. The lack of a father figure in her life bothered me, despite how well-adjusted and happy she seemed, but being a single mom and working full-time left little time for dating.

  I went down the hall to the living room to join my family. Four generations of women had lived under the same roof since my grandmother’s stroke two years earlier. I stood in the doorway watching the three of them play rummy. Mom and Kayla sat together on the couch, the similarities between them so obvious; the dark hair, brown eyes and small turned up noses. I’d always looked more like my dad with my blonde hair and blue eyes.

  My grandmother sat across from them in the armchair, looking put together as usual and much younger than her years. Her hair, always dyed a deep chestnut to hide the gray, was pulled into a neat bun at the base of her neck. Ruby red polish flashed at her fingertips as she shuffled the cards. It matched her lipstick and high heels perfectly.

  My chest tightened and my hand went to the heart pendant at my throat. I stroked it with my thumb. It was the last birthday gift my dad had given me before he’d died. These three people were all I had le
ft in the world.

  Mom looked up. She smiled and patted the seat beside her. “Come play a game with us, Sarah, and tell us about your first day in the new unit.”

  “I wonned a game, Mommy!” Kayla yelled, bouncing up and down in her seat.

  “You won, sweetie. Won, not wonned,” Mom corrected gently.

  “Don’t nag the poor child, Brenda,” Gran said mildly. “She has her whole life to learn grammar.”

  I sat on the couch beside Mom. Kayla climbed onto my lap and kissed my cheek. “I’m glad you’re home, Mommy.”

  “Me too, munchkin. Will you let me win this game?”

  “No way. You haffta win fair ‘n square.”

  “Oh? Who says?” I leaned down and planted quick little kisses all over her face.

  A few minutes later Kayla was back in her own seat, still a little breathless from the laughter and shrieks of joy.

  “So,” I began, picking up a card and tossing it immediately onto the discard pile, “I think I’m going to like working in Dementia. One of my residents went streaking today.”

  Chapter 2 - The Soup Incident

  I WENT INTO EDIE’S ROOM shortly after six-thirty the next morning. She was already awake, sitting in her armchair in the dark, staring out the window. The sky was beginning to lighten. It had rained sometime through the night and a light mist hung over the courtyard, muffling the sound of birds chirping at the feeders.

  I turned on the small lamp beside her bed and spoke quietly, as to not disturb her roommate, Mrs. Sellers. “Morning, Edie. How did you sleep?”

  “I tossed and turned most of the night. It’ll take some time to get used to being here.”

  I pulled the bedding back on her bed to let it air out, then went to her wardrobe and unlocked it.

  “I was wondering why my things are locked up,” Edie said. “I wanted to read last night before bed, but my book was in there.”

  “It’s not to keep you out, Edie. It’s to keep your things safe.”