Tranquility

by Laurie Gardiner

  “Hello, Sarah.”

  I was so startled by the deep voice above me that I nearly fell over. I put one hand on the floor to catch myself and looked up at Mr. Gallo.

  He smiled. “I so sorry. I no wanna scare you.”

  I stood up and smiled tentatively. “It’s okay, I didn’t hear you walk up.” I gave a short, nervous laugh. I hadn’t seen Mr. Gallo since the day Abby had sent his wife to the hospital. He was leaning on a walker, looking much older and frailer than last time I’d seen him.

  “I know, it take so long for me to come back. I so sick after Christmas, and the Parkinson’s, it gets bad after my Bella…. I live with my sister, Gina, now.”

  “It’s okay, Mr. Gallo. I wasn’t expecting you to come see me. I mean… there’s no reason—”

  “There is much reason. Gina, she tell me you very upset when she come.”

  I shook my head in denial.

  “You no feel bad. Is no your fault. You take good care of my Bella.”

  All the emotions I’d struggled so hard to contain that day rose to the surface. Tears welled up in my eyes. Damn it, why does he have to be so nice? I swiped a tissue from the box on the supply cart and dabbed at my eyes.

  “No cry! No, no, no. The tears of a woman, they are no good for my heart.” He put a shaking hand over his heart as if to prove my tears were hurting it.

  I couldn’t help but laugh a little at his theatrics. I wiped away the last of the tears and managed a smile for him. “Thank you. You didn’t have to do this, but it means a lot to me.”

  He stepped around his walker and pulled me in for a hug. I could feel his thin, frail body trembling and nearly started crying again.

  Luckily Sam came out of his room at that moment, saw me and yelled, “What the hell? Get me outta here. I’m late for work.”

  That put an end to the tears.

  Chapter 12 – Influenza

  I HAD LITTLE TIME OVER the next couple of weeks to think about Jay or Mr. Gallo. It seemed as though we’d barely recovered from the norovirus when influenza struck. Most of the staff and residents had been given flu shots in the fall, but some still became ill. They wanted nothing more than to stay in bed and sleep. We didn’t have to chase after them and try to keep them in their rooms, as we had last time, and there were fewer accidents involving bodily fluids.

  We were kept busy nonetheless. Caring for residents who wanted only to stay in bed meant constant repositioning and checking for signs of bedsores. We encouraged them to get up at least long enough to use the washroom or brush their teeth. They were given sponge baths and spent part of each day in a sitting position to keep their lungs clear of fluid. We constantly pushed fluids to prevent dehydration.

  Mrs. Sellers was the first of my residents to get sick. It hit her hard and I took no chances. A few days into the illness, she developed a fever, a deep, thick cough, and a rattle in her chest. She complained of pain in her chest and refused to drink anything. I reported it to Abby and, within an hour, Mrs. Sellers was on her way to the hospital.

  Rose, Lily and Beth came down with the flu as well, but were not nearly as ill as Mrs. Sellers. Rose was miserable. She became petulant and sulky and complained constantly. She was so unpleasant that even Georgia avoided her.

  Lloyd came to visit that Thursday after dinner as he always did. Connie explained the situation to him and he came back Friday after work to sign Georgia out for the weekend. By the time he dropped her off again on Sunday evening, Rose was feeling better and back to her usual good-natured self.

  Lily and Beth were sick enough to want to stay in bed, but not too sick to aggravate each other. For three long days they stayed in their room together. I went in often to check on them, made sure they drank plenty of water, reminded them to use the bathroom, and gave them cool cloths for their foreheads. If they weren’t sleeping, they were complaining, and the complaining always led to more arguing.

  “Stop coughing.”

  “I can’t stop. You stop listening.”

  “She talks too much. It keeps me awake.”

  “No, I don’t. She’s lying.”

  “I’ll tell Mother and you’ll be in trouble.”

  “Well then, you’ll be a tattletale. Nobody likes a tattletale.”

  It was never ending and it gave me a headache. It also made me happy I only had one daughter.

  Mrs. Sellers came back to Tranquility nearly a week after she’d been sent to the hospital. She’d been treated for pneumonia, which we’d caught early. I breathed a sigh of relief. Caring for the others had kept my mind off her most days, but I couldn’t help but worry after losing Mrs. Gallo.

  I worried about Gran as well. She tired easily and often looked pale and drawn. When I voiced my concern, she insisted she was fine.

  “I’m eighty-four years old, Sarah. Of course I get tired.”

  “Have you called the doctor yet?”

  “I’ll call first thing tomorrow.”

  Two days later, I came home from work to find her on the floor beside the couch, struggling to sit up. I ran over and crouched down beside her. “What happened? Did you fall?”

  She batted my hand away when I tried to help. She grabbed onto the couch with one hand, pulled herself into a sitting position, and sat for a moment catching her breath. Finally, she looked up at me and said, “I’m fine.”

  “Okay, good to know.”

  She turned over onto her knees, put a hand on the couch and pushed herself up off the floor. I helped her get settled on the couch and sat down beside her. “Now tell me what happened.”

  She waved her hand in annoyance. “It’s nothing. I went to sit on the couch, missed and ended up on the floor.”

  “Were you dizzy or lightheaded before it happened?”

  “I was tired, that’s all.”

  “Gran….”

  “I cleaned up the damn kitchen, okay? After I swept the floor I felt a little lightheaded, so I came in here to lie down. It’s nothing. I’m fine.”

  “It’s not nothing, Gran. You could have hurt yourself and there’d have been no one here to help you. Did you make that doctor’s appointment like you said you would?”

  “I forgot.” She grumbled and complained about the fuss I was making, but called the doctor right away.

  I knew then that the fall had scared her. I pulled an ottoman over for her feet and tucked a blanket around her legs. When she was settled in front of the TV with the remote, I went to the kitchen to make tea.

  Not wanting to leave Gran alone, I called the mother of one of Kayla’s friends, and asked her to bring Kayla home from school. She assured me it was no problem. After I hung up the phone, I fixed the tea and carried it into the living room. I set one on the coffee table in front of Gran and sank into the armchair beside her with a sigh.

  A short time later, I heard the front door bang and Kayla’s excited voice flooded the house with life. “She’s home, Gran. Brace yourself,” I warned.

  Kayla flew into the living room, her short, dark hair bouncing as she ran over and launched herself into my lap.

  “Hey, munchkin. How was school?”

  “Really, really good, Mommy. Mrs. Anderson liked my painting so much she hanged it on the wall. She said I’m an artist!” Her brown eyes glistened with excitement.

  “Hung it on the wall, and your teacher’s right, you’re an amazing artist.”

  Mom had always been a stickler for spelling and grammar. It had driven me crazy when I was a kid, but I found myself doing the same thing to Kayla.

  Kayla jumped off my lap and sat on the couch beside Gran, looking up at her with concern. “Are you, okay, Gran? You look sick.”

  Gran put her arm around Kayla’s shoulder and pulled her tight against her side. “I’m fine, sweetheart. Just a little tired, that’s all.” She leaned over and kissed the top of Kayla’s head.

  Kayla wiggled out from under her arm and made a beeline for the door. “I’m going to play with my toys,” she yelled, running from the
room.

  Mom came home about an hour later. I left her and Kayla to fuss over Gran and went upstairs to shower and change. After I got dressed, I called Tracey and arranged to meet her for coffee after dinner.

  * * *

  Tracey burst into the coffee shop with a rush of frosty air, shaking the snow from her long, red hair and lamenting the cold weather.

  “You know it’s winter, right?” I said.

  She made a face as she took off her coat and hung it on the back of the chair. She slid into her seat and wrapped her hands around the hot cup of latte. “Course I know it’s winter, smartass. Doesn’t mean I have to like it. So what’s up?”

  “Nothing. I just felt like getting out of the house.”

  “Uh-uh, not buying it.”

  I was amazed by how she always seemed to know when there was something on my mind. “I’m worried about Gran. She’s been off for a couple months, tired and pale. Then I came home today to find her on the floor beside the couch.”

  “Oh shit. She okay?”

  “I think so. She made a doctor’s appointment finally. I’ve been on her case about it for a while.”

  “That’s all you can do. She’s a grown woman.”

  “I know,” I mumbled dejectedly. “I just worry about her since she had the stroke a couple of years ago. I don’t think I could handle losing her right now. She was like a parent to me after my dad died.” My fingers went to the pendant at my neck.

  Tracey glanced at it. “Did you get that from him?”

  I nodded and looked away, swallowing the sudden lump in my throat.

  “So, have you seen Jay lately?”

  My face fell. I must have looked about ready to cry.

  “Oh, man.” Tracey said. “Sorry. Thought I was doing a good thing changing the subject. Is it really that bad? I mean, you barely know the guy, right?”

  “Right. But I didn’t tell you, he asked me out for coffee a few weeks ago and I said no.”

  “Sarah! We talked about this. I told you—”

  “I know, I know. I messed up. And I haven’t been able to stop thinking about him since.”

  “Well then, we’ll just have to do something about that.”

  I groaned. “Great. One more thing for me to worry about.”

  Chapter 13 - In Like a Lion

  MARCH ANNOUNCED ITSELF FORCEFULLY WITH a blast of cold and a late winter snowstorm. I was happy for the short drive to work that morning. Nearly half a foot of snow had fallen through the night, and the roads were a slushy, slippery mess.

  It was a relatively quiet day in Dementia. After breakfast, Edie and Georgia decided to go to the solarium to watch the birds flit in and out of the feeders in the gently falling snow. Lily, Beth and Rose tagged along behind.

  I left Mrs. Sellers watching TV in the lounge with a few other residents and continued to Hall B to start making beds. Edie had made her own bed, as she did every morning. Mrs. Sellers’ linens needed changing. I stripped the bed and put the dirty sheets into the linen bag in the hall. Housekeeping would be around shortly with clean linens. I headed down the hall to make the twins’ beds.

  Sam’s deep, raspy voice drifted out of his room. I smiled and hummed along to the upbeat chorus as I straightened sheets and tucked blankets. “Wake Up Little Susie” was a song Gran used to listen to on her old record player. She would often play it when we went to visit and she and I would dance. I remembered laughing and shrieking as she twirled me round and round.

  Tracey’s voice interrupted my reminiscing. “Hey, you started without me.” She went to the opposite side of the bed to help.

  “I figured you were off somewhere napping.”

  She laughed. We worked in companionable silence until we heard Edie’s concerned voice calling from the hallway. “Sarah! Sarah, where are you?”

  “I’m here.” Tracey and I hurried to the hallway to meet her. “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  Edie put her hand on my arm to steady herself as she bent over, gasping for air. Georgia was right behind her. She was out of breath and looking worried as well. Rose brought up the rear, shuffling along at her own pace and looking confused.

  I was scared now and thinking the worst. I didn’t see Lily or Beth anywhere. Had something happened to one of them? “Edie, what is wrong?”

  She straightened up and took a deep breath. “There’s a… man.”

  I took her hand in mine. “Where? What’s he doing?”

  “In the…courtyard,” she gasped.

  Georgia chimed in before I could ask any more questions. “Lord, save us. He’s naked.”

  I sighed. “Oh, not again.”

  “This should be fun,” Tracey said, smirking.

  Sam, was my first thought. No, it can’t be, he’s in his room.

  “Who is it, Edie?”

  “John.”

  Tracey and I exchanged a knowing look.

  I glanced at Edie. “Will you find Abby for me, please?” I left them behind as I ran toward the solarium. All I could think of was how cold it was outside and how quickly he could get hypothermia.

  I saw John through the wall of windows as soon as I entered the solarium. He wandered along the snow-covered garden path, waving his hands wildly and talking to himself. He wasn’t completely naked; he was wearing underwear and socks.

  “At least he’s not walking around in the snow barefoot,” I said to Tracey as she ran in behind me.

  “True, but his socks have gotta be soaked.”

  “He looks pretty upset.”

  “Yeah. He seems to like me. I’ll go talk to him. Hold the door for me, okay? I might be in a hurry to get back in.” She grinned, opened the door and stepped outside.

  I stood in the doorway, holding the door slightly ajar. The snow came down harder now. It danced and swirled around the enclosed courtyard as though searching for a way out. A gust of cold air and snow hit me in the face and I closed the door all but a crack.

  Tracey walked slowly toward John, calling his name as she approached. She stopped just beyond arm’s reach. He was unresponsive and continued to pace back and forth, muttering to himself. He’d worn a path, about ten feet long, into the snow. The wet socks sagged off his feet. His bare skin was mottled and covered in goose bumps.

  “John,” Tracey called again. She moved a little closer. “Aren’t you cold?”

  Finally he seemed to hear her and looked up. His face went pale. “Mary,” he whimpered.

  “Hi, John. Why don’t you come inside with me and get warm?”

  He stared at her for a moment, and then shook his head as though to clear it. “You—you’re here. Why did you leave me?”

  “I’m here now. It’s cold. Come inside with me. Please?”

  John’s face darkened. He took a step toward her. “Why are you here? Did they send you? You’re here to take me back to that place, aren’t you?”

  Tracey put her hands out in front of her body and backed slowly toward the door. “I’m not taking you anywhere. I just want you to come inside and get warm.”

  I didn’t like the look on John’s face. I opened the door a little wider and said in a low voice, “I think you should come in, Trace.”

  Tracey didn’t look at me. She shook her snow-covered head to let me know she’d heard. “Please, John?”

  He wavered, nearly taken in by the pleading tone of her voice, then his face changed, his expression hardened. He put his closed fists to his temples, shut his eyes tightly and rocked his head back and forth. When he opened his eyes again, they were hard and empty. His hands dropped to his sides. His voice was flat and emotionless. “You’re tricking me.”

  “No, I’m not. You’re cold, John. I’m afraid you’re gonna get sick.”

  “You’re always tricking me, trying to make me do what you want. They said you would.” He took a step toward her.

  Tracey took a step back.

  I opened the door all the way and said her name.

  She glanced over her shoulder and to
ok another step back.

  “Bitch,” John spat, rushing toward her.

  She turned and ran the last few steps to the door. I pulled it closed behind her and locked it just as John crashed into it, roaring with fury.

  Tracey stood looking out the door with one hand over her chest, breathing heavily. “Well, that didn’t work out how I planned.”

  We looked at each other. “Now what do we do?” I asked.

  Abby and Carol rushed into the room as John launched himself at the door a second time. We jumped back, startled by the loud crash. He banged furiously on the glass as he spewed obscenities.

  Abby stood beside us, looking out at the deranged, half-naked man. “Any idea what set him off?”

  “Not sure,” Tracey said. “I went out to try to get him to come in, but it just pissed him off more. He came at me and chased me back inside.”

  Abby nodded, taking in Tracey’s wet clothing and hair. “Did he hurt you?”

  “Nope, I’m faster than him.”

  Abby’s mouth twitched as though she wanted to smile. Instead she blew out a long, loud breath. “How are we going to get him in here without someone getting hurt?”

  After a short discussion, Abby decided it was too dangerous to handle on our own and went to call for help. By then, there was a crowd of people in the solarium. Edie, Georgia and Rose had come back and a few others had wandered in to see what all the commotion was about.

  John became more and more agitated as people continued to crowd into the room to peer curiously through the windows.

  “Edie…” I began. There was no need to say more. Edie rounded up the residents and shooed them out of the room.

  I closed the door. From the wall of windows in the solarium, Tracey and I were able to look across the courtyard and into the doors and windows opposite us. I watched as curious residents, and a few of the kitchen and housekeeping staff, crowded around the glass doors that accessed the courtyard from Hall A.

  By the time the police and paramedics arrived with Abby, John was in a state of complete rage. He paced away from the door and back again, shouting and waving his hands wildly in the air. We moved to the far side of the room, hoping if we were out of sight, he would calm down and move away from the door. It didn’t help.