For a moment I couldn’t respond. A hot flash passed through my body. My mind was a blur of lights and images: uniforms, mangled metal, hands reaching out to guide and to steady me. There was a doll on the side of the road, one of its legs mashed. I was sinking into the pavement, melting into the macadam. Like a streak of blood, I would stain the highway. Her hair poured through the broken window, and pieces of glass glittered like diamonds at my feet.
Relive the accident? Repeat the agony? Admit that there was a part of me forever in the darkness, forever still, forever cold, alone? I was there; I saw the earth close around the box, but I kept thinking, I’ve got to get home. I’ve got to be with them. They’ll be upset. They need me.
And Miriam in the hospital begging me with her eyes to confirm what she believed, what the doctors permitted her to believe: not dead, hurt, recuperating, but not gone, never gone.
“I want to get better to help you take care of her,” Miriam had said. “I’m being a good girl, Michael. I’m doing everything they say.”
I would sit in the hospital parking lot with my head against the steering wheel until I had the strength to go in there. And then I would walk like a zombie over the hospital corridors and drive home to a house filled with echoes. Maybe that was what Miriam heard: echoes. Soon they would die away and it would all be over.
“You don’t mean drive to the spot and ...” My voice was barely audible.
“No. I mean describe it to her, force her to listen, to remember. But not until we’ve laid a foundation for acceptance,” she added quickly. “Hopefully, she’ll tell us that Lillian is dead. It’s essential that she be at a point of strength when she accepts it.”
“I can’t imagine that right now.”
“Then you can appreciate how great the task is. She could go the other way, face it, and crumble into a helpless catatonic and never fully participate in life. But you know that. I don’t have to tell you that.”
I nodded and sat forward again. She never took her eyes off me. I knew she was studying my reactions, observing me closely to see what effects her words had on me.
“I know that Miriam has shown some changes for the better and, as you say, gotten stronger, but right now it still seems to me that we’re regressing. She hasn’t denied anything; there isn’t even a suggestion of a denial.”
“I realize that,” she said, something close to a smile on her face. “You’ll just have to trust us for a while.”
I considered her sitting there looking so solid, so unmoving. Trust was what it would always come down to. At that moment I resented the whole medical community and not just nurses like her. I went to a chiropractor once years ago. He did an adjustment for my back pain and then told me to come back in two days. I said I couldn’t; it would have to be three days. He shrugged and said, “It’s your back.” In other words, either do what he wanted or suffer. Power, control, what could I do? Mrs. Randolph was right—I had to trust her.
“This meditation you’ve been teaching Miriam, was that something Dr. Turner recommended too?”
“No, that’s my contribution. Miriam’s mind has been jumbled and twisted. Her thoughts are confused and distorted. Think of it as a blackboard covered with writing. The lines are going every which way. We could go back over each line painstakingly and try to fix it or we could erase the whole board and start again. True meditation is the state in which the mind becomes thoughtless. I want to eliminate the static, clear her, and then ease in the truth.”
“That sounds very good,” I said. I was impressed.
“It is good.”
“Where did you learn all this?”
“From life,” she said, and suddenly she took on a look of sadness and deep thought.
“Personal tragedy?” I asked softly. Her eyes widened and flashed with anger.
“My problems are not important for now,” she said. I had to look away.
“This meditating sounds intriguing,” I said. “Maybe I should learn how to do it. Would you ... I mean, could you ...”
“Show you how? Yes, but not along with Miriam. You have to be separate. Just the two of us,” she added, and I conjured up the image of her naked, sitting on the floor. There was a tingling and a stirring inside my thighs.
“I understand.”
“Tomorrow, try to get home a little earlier and be in here by five when I start.”
“I’ll do that. Good,” I said and stood up. “Well, we’re having a light supper according to Miriam.” She nodded. Her anger hadn’t fully receded, but her eyes were more neutral. “That robe looks very comfortable,” I said.
“Yes.” She ran the palms of her hands over her breasts and down her hips. “I either wear something like this or meditate in the nude. It’s important to be unrestricted, and it’s essential to meditate on an empty stomach. That’s why I do it before dinner.”
I looked as unaffected as I could. Was she teasing me now? Did she expect me to say, “I know. I peeked in here and saw you?” All I did was look thoughtful.
“What should I wear for our session?”
“Put on a pair of loosely fitting pajamas.”
“Fine,” I said nearly swallowing the word. I fumbled for the door knob behind me and then retreated into the hall. I was shaking with excitement and decided to splash my face with cold water before going down to Miriam, but before I could do that, the phone rang and I had to pick it up in the bedroom. It was Dr. Turner. I wanted to ask him to hold on while I went back to close my bedroom door. I was afraid Mrs. Randolph would overhear me, but I didn’t. Instead, I spoke as softly as I could.
“I was told you called, Michael. Anything wrong?”
“Are you back? How’s your brother?”
“No, I’m still here. He’s not doing all that well. But I try to keep in touch with my office. How is it going?”
“Well,” I said, practically whispering; I had my left hand up beside my mouth, “I was concerned about things again, especially when Miriam began talking about a birthday party.”
“Birthday party?”
“For Lillian.”
“I see. And Mrs. Randolph?”
“I thought she was going along with it. I thought it was her idea, but ... it seems Miriam is fantasizing through her now. At least that’s the way Mrs. Randolph explained it.”
“Very possible.”
“I mean, I understand what Mrs. Randolph is saying ... it’s just that ...”
“Just what, Michael?”
“I wish you were here now so you can evaluate things for yourself.’’
“Miriam’s still improving?”
“In many ways, yes. I suppose this meditation—”
“Meditation?”
“That’s Mrs. Randolph’s idea. She has Miriam meditating with her. She gave me an explanation of the treatment.” He was silent for a long moment. “I gathered that you didn’t originate the idea, but is there anything wrong with it?”
“I can’t say there’s anything wrong with it, Michael. As long as Miriam is comfortable with it ....”
“Mrs. Randolph says she’s used it before. I’ll say one thing about her—she’s not afraid to take on responsibility. That’s for sure.”
“Yes, I know,” he said, but he didn’t make it sound like a compliment. “I’ll try to get back to you in a day or so,” he added quickly, “but if I don’t, don’t hesitate to call the office, and Mrs. Greenstreet will try to get in touch with me.”
“She made it sound as though she couldn’t.”
“She’s just being a good secretary and protecting her boss,” he said, and he laughed.
“Good luck with your brother,” I said. He thanked me and hung up. Before I put the receiver down, I turned to the doorway because I heard Mrs. Randolph’s footsteps in the hall. Had she overheard? Was she listening in the moment she heard me pick up the phone? If so, she made no mention of it, and I thought it best I say nothing either.
After dinner I fed the dog and sat down to read th
e paper. I saw that a movie I had been interested in had come to the local theater. I mentioned it, and both Miriam and Mrs. Randolph insisted I go see it. Ordinarily, after what had been going on the past few days, I would have declined, but since my conversation with Dr. Turner, I felt more relieved. I began seriously to consider going. It would be the first time I had done something like that since Lillian died.
“Mrs. Randolph and I will keep each other company, Michael. You have nothing to worry about.”
“Well, if you think it will be all right, dear.”
“I know it will be all right, Michael.”
“I wouldn’t worry about anything,” Mrs. Randolph said. She didn’t wink, but she gave me a slight nod, which was more than anything she had done before. I felt more secure, more involved and in control.
“I might just do it then.”
“Good. Mrs. Randolph and I are going to sit around and write out Lillian’s party invitations so you can mail them in the morning.”
“Good idea,” I said. Mrs. Randolph looked pleased with my response, so I added, “Maybe I’ll get some of those little party hats and noisemakers.”
“Wonderful,” Miriam said. “Lillian will be so pleased. But don’t forget, it’s a secret.”
“She’ll never hear it from me.” I put the paper down on the small table and went for my light jacket. When I said so long, they both looked up at me with the same “cat-ate-the-mouse” smile. It took me aback for a moment, but I hesitated only a few seconds. After that, I went out and drove to the movies.
It was my particular misfortune to run into Charley and Alice Tooey at the theater. Actually, it wasn’t that much of a coincidence. I remembered that Charley had shown some interest in the film when it was mentioned at the bank, and there are only three movie theaters within a fifty-mile radius in our area. The Lyceum was the closest one to them, as it was to me. They were standing by the popcorn counter in the lobby. When I entered, Alice saw me first. I saw her poke Charley. She smiled and looked nervous about meeting me, so I imagined Charley had brought home some stories about my return to the bank and my mental state. The way she stared at me when we spoke made me feel as though I were wearing some kind of Halloween mask.
Alice was a tall, slim woman, nothing like Miriam. She had harder features, although I suppose she was closer to what one would term a model’s figure. She wore her hair cut very short, which I thought emphasized the sharpness of her nose and the thinness of her mouth. Actually, she was always a pleasant person in my and Miriam’s company. On more than one occasion, we remarked to ourselves that she was too nice for an abrasive guy like Charley. It was always, “I don’t know what she saw in him.”
“Hey, buddy,” Charley said. He slapped me on the shoulder like we had planned to meet here.
“Hello, Alice,” I said. She continued to smile but practically whispered my name.
“Alone?” Charley asked, which I thought was a pretty stupid question considering there was no one with me.
“Yes. Miriam’s home with Mrs. Randolph.”
“Mrs. Randolph, that’s the nurse?” Alice asked, glancing at Charley and then at me.
“Yes. A very capable person. Actually, Miriam’s taken to her very well. They’ve quickly become companions. A brilliant woman, more than just a nurse. She’s also a student of meditation. I should say a teacher. She’s had a great deal of experience with mental and spiritual matters,” I added. I realized I was rambling, finding security in words. “We’re lucky to have gotten her. Got her from a firm in New York City. Sight unseen. It was pure luck.”
Neither of them said a word. They stood there staring at me with the dumbest smiles on their faces. There was a very long, embarrassing pause. I had to break it.
“I was looking forward to seeing this,” I said, “and when I spotted the advertisement in today’s paper ...”
“Yeah, us too. Well,” Charley said, “why don’t we all find some seats.”
“How is Miriam, Michael?” Alice asked with deep sincerity. It nearly brought me to tears.
“She’s coming along, Alice. She hadn’t been until Mrs. Randolph arrived. The doctor wasn’t enough; we needed someone full time, and it appears to have made an effect. As I said, I think it’s because of the particular caliber of nurse we’ve gotten.”
“A specialist of sorts, huh?” Charley said.
“You might say that. And I think Miriam was in need of a specialist. Just anyone wouldn’t do.”
“We want to stop by,” Alice said. “We have always wanted to, but—”
“I know. Charley told me. I don’t hold it against you two. If the situation were reversed, I’m sure I would feel the same way. It’s not easy for anyone.”
“I go by the house occasionally, but I didn’t think ... that is, without telling you first ....”
“Right. As I told Charley, give us a little more time.”
“She’s still—”
“Lillian isn’t dead,” I said. “Not yet.” Alice nodded sadly.
“Well,” Charley said slapping his hands together, “about those seats ... this place is filling up quickly.”
I felt sorry for Alice. I think she was uncomfortable with me sitting beside her. It was understandable. So much had happened since the four of us went out together. However, there wasn’t much I could do about it until the movie ended and the lights came on. Almost simultaneously, Charley leaned over to say, “Let’s all go for coffee, huh?”
“No, I’ve got to get back. I’m sure Miriam’s waiting up for me. And Mrs. Randolph,” I added. Alice looked relieved.
“We understand,” she said quickly.
We paused together outside the theater. It was another embarrassing moment because no one really had anything to say and it was difficult to find a graceful parting. We spoke a little about the movie, but Charley was never anyone to analyze anything, and I could see that neither of them really understood or cared for it.
“So, was that the right answer today?” he asked just before I turned to leave them.
“Right answer? What answer?”
“Pin the Tail on the Donkey. For the crossword puzzle?”
“Oh. Oh, yeah, yeah.” I forced a laugh. “Good night, Alice.”
“Please,” she said taking my hand dramatically, “let Charley know when.”
“I will,” I said and rushed away from them. When I looked back, they were still standing there, looking my way.
Seeing them had ruined my one night out, but I was determined not to let Miriam know. If she asked me any questions, I would talk only about the movie. It was an oddity about her condition that she never inquired about friends like Charley and Alice Tooey. That part of our lives seemed to be completely erased for her.
But when I thought about it now (feeling more rational since I talked with Mrs. Randolph), I realized that Miriam had blocked them out of her mind because of their daughter Tracy and Tracy’s friendship with Lillian. It made sense, and I was proud of myself for figuring it out on my own. I thought I might even tell Mrs. Randolph about it and have my theory confirmed.
It wasn’t that late when I got home, but the house was already dark. The dog’s barking was weaker, lower, and ended before I even reached the front door. Only the nightlight in the kitchen was on downstairs, and there was no sign of anyone. It was very quiet. I was disappointed because I had hoped to sit up and talk with them about the movie. I was sure someone as intelligent as Mrs. Randolph would appreciate it. Also, I was looking forward to a cup of coffee. There was nothing to do but go up to bed.
The light above the stairs washed the steps in a sickly yellowish glow. I hated it, but there was no point in putting a stronger bulb up there. It would make it too bright, and we could never sleep with our door completely closed. Miriam would be afraid she wouldn’t hear Lillian call.
I imagined that one or both of them had gotten tired, so I made very little noise as I climbed the stairway. When I reached the landing, I noticed that Lillian
’s door was completely shut. That made me very curious, but I would have had to go in there anyway to satisfy Miriam. I was sure she was listening for my “Good night, Lillian,” despite the fact that she might be tired and might even have fallen asleep. Sometimes I thought she could hear me in her sleep and if she didn’t hear my “Good night, Lillian” she would snap awake.
I opened the door slowly, but I didn’t take more than a step or two inside. I froze and stared. The sight of something new and big in Lillian’s room would have been shock enough as it was, but to see a wheelchair there was mind shattering. It was more than confusion. My thoughts became unglued. I was like someone thrown into outer space. I lost my hold on reality. The chair made it seem as though Lillian were alive, an invalid, just as Miriam believed; and it was I who was in need of mental help.
I didn’t look past it; it captured the complete focus of my attention. I was drawn to it, hypnotized by the metal arms and legs that reflected the hall light. The chair was turned slightly toward me. My mind began to play tricks. I thought the chair turned a little more and a little more until I was looking directly at it. It had a green backing and a soft green cushion seat. When I looked at the spokes, the wheels seemed to move. In my wild imagination, I saw it coming toward me, so I backed up quickly and slammed the door shut.
Only a second went by before Miriam called.
“Michael?”
I didn’t respond. I stood there breathing hard watching the handle of Lillian’s door. Did I see it turn?
“Michael, is that you?”
“Yes.”
“What are you doing? Michael?”
“Just a moment.” I had to fight to regain my composure. I wiped my face with my handkerchief and looked at the nurse’s closed door. I was going to knock softly on it so Miriam couldn’t hear and then go in to talk to Mrs. Randolph about the chair. I doubted that I would sleep, thinking about it. But Miriam came to the doorway of our room.
“What is it, Michael? Was something wrong with Lillian?”
“No, but what ... how did that chair ...”
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