“I won’t let you do this.”
“Miriam. I want to show you something.”
“You want me upstairs, Mrs. Randolph?”
“Just wait there. Michael, we’ve got to show her,” she added moving toward me. I wanted to remain in that doorway to block her and keep her in that room, but when she held the doll out toward me and I saw the blood-streaked hair, images of Lillian’s limp body passed before me. I was in a frenzy, clawing at my own face. I felt my fingernails tear into my skin. “Here,” she said, “take Lillian out to Miriam to show her.”
“No.”
“Michael?” Miriam was on the first step.
I couldn’t help it though; I stepped away from the bloodied head, and the nurse walked past me. I was determined not to have that doll touch me. She left me standing just inside the doorway. When I realized she had gone out and was moving toward Miriam, I screamed, “Stop!” Of course, she didn’t. She was at the head of the stairs, and Miriam was looking up.
“Miriam, you have to face the truth now,” Mrs. Randolph said. “This is what happened that night in the car,” she went on. “You have lived with a lie too long, and Michael hasn’t helped you.”
I felt helpless until I saw the sledgehammer. From behind the nurse was vulnerable. There were no intimidating eyes, no smiles of disdain. I gripped the tool firmly and moved out into the hall, inching closer to her. She was talking slowly, describing the accident from the beginning. I caught just one glimpse of Miriam shaking her head and stepping back with every step Mrs. Randolph took forward.
“Leave her alone!” I screamed. “I’m warning you. Leave her be!”
The nurse didn’t hesitate. The doll dangled from her arms. One of its shoes had fallen off, just as one of Lillian’s shoes had that night. I raised the sledgehammer, not even aware of its weight. The nurse kept talking and talking.
“Noooo!” I screamed as my arms drove the tool forward. I swung it against everything I have ever hated. I swung it against all my nightmares and sorrows. I didn’t see the nurse’s head; I saw my father ridiculing me for being too weak or too lazy. I saw my mother being lowered into her grave. I saw the frightening darkness filled with the eyes of wild animals around the house. I heard the howling and the screams. All of the terrifying sounds of my life merged into a cacophony. Mostly, I heard the screech of tires and Miriam’s scream. Then I saw Lillian’s body rise off the front seat. I saw her glance toward me in an instant, and helplessly, I watched her head smash against the glass.
The sledgehammer slammed into the back of Mrs. Randolph’s head. I felt it crush the bone and meet soft matter. The momentum of my blow carried me forward, too. Mrs. Randolph flew forward and then crumpled to the steps, dropping the broken doll before her. I took hold of the bannister to prevent myself from following her down. The doll bounced over the steps and landed before Miriam. She screamed and turned away, running into the living room as Mrs. Randolph’s body tottered and then went over and over. The nurse ended at the foot of the stairs, beside the doll, looking as loose and as broken. Both their heads bled.
Mrs. Randolph’s head was back against the bottom step. She was gaping up at me in death, her eyes wide, still terrifying, still intimidating. I held on to the bannister for dear life and tried to catch my breath. The sledge-hammer fell over but didn’t slide down the stairs. Mrs. Randolph’s arms were twisted back. Her legs were spread apart and her feet turned in.
Slowly, I lowered myself to the step and sat down. I could hear Miriam crying in the living room. I shook my head. I was going to vomit. I could feel it coming, so I lowered my head to my knees and sat there for as long as I could without moving. The nausea was relieved, but when I looked up again and saw Mrs. Randolph still staring at me, I grew dizzy. I turned away, sprawling over the top steps of the stairway. I must have remained like that for a full five minutes. My heartbeat slowed down, and my breathing became regular. When I turned back again, I felt a definite change come over me.
Mrs. Randolph is finally leaving, I thought. The idea took stronger and stronger hold of me. Mrs. Randolph is going and we’ll be able to have things the way they were. That’s good; that’s what we both wanted. Even Mrs. Randolph wanted it, although she wouldn’t admit it. Yes, I thought, and I stood up.
“So you’re leaving,” I said aloud, gaining even more strength from the sound of my own voice. “Well, then, it’s time to say goodbye.” I took a step downward toward the body. “So you’re leaving,” I repeated. I took another step and another. When I got to the body, I stepped over it, avoiding looking down at her. I remained there thinking for a moment until an idea came to me. It cheered me up. I was definitely stronger now. I was in control because Mrs. Randolph was leaving. Things were rapidly returning to the way they were. I felt I could handle anything, any problem, any situation.
“She has to leave,” I said. I picked up her two suitcases that had been left at the bottom of the stairway and carried them out to the back porch. I had to go through the kitchen and through the pantry. When I got to the porch, I set the suitcases down.
“Mrs. Randolph is going,” I told the trees and the now empty doghouse. I turned abruptly and went back through the pantry and through the kitchen. The body was still at the bottom of the stairway, the head still back on a step, the eyes still open and looking up. But I was no longer at the top of the stairs. I was down where she couldn’t see me to stop me.
I lifted her legs carefully, holding them at my hips and pulling. Her head bounced on the floor, but she didn’t blink and her eyes didn’t stop looking up. Not a very dignified way to go out, I thought. Her skirt was up to her thighs. I nearly laughed.
“This doesn’t look so good, Mrs. Randolph,” I said. “This is not like you.”
As soon as I began to drag her, the blood poured profusely from the wound in her head. A rather large circle of it had formed where she fell. I made a mental note to clean that up, as well as the streak I was now leaving.
“Very messy, Mrs. Randolph,” I said. “Very inconsiderate.”
Her head bounced slightly as we moved over the rougher kitchen floor and pantry. When I got her out on the small back porch, I placed her beside the suitcases. “Wait here for your taxi,” I said. “It should arrive any moment.”
I stood there thinking. I had one more thing to do, but I had to do it differently. I went back into the pantry and got a tablecloth. Then I walked back through the kitchen to the stairway. There, without actually looking down at it, I dropped the tablecloth over the big doll. I knelt down and wrapped it around as tightly as I could. As I lifted it in my arms, I turned my head away. When I stood up again, I paused. Miriam was still sobbing.
“I’ll be right there, dear,” I called. “I just have to see Mrs. Randolph off. She needs some help with her suitcases. It’s only polite. I won’t be long.” Her sobbing stopped. I smiled and walked on through the kitchen and pantry to the back porch where Mrs. Randolph waited.
“Well,” I said. “I see the cab has arrived. It’s time to go then.”
I set the wrapped doll beside Mrs. Randolph and went around the house to get my shovel.
Aside from the fact that the earth was softest in that area, there was something poetically just about digging the nurse’s grave next to the dog’s. Of course, I had to go deeper. It was the most physical work I had done in years. My father should see me now, I thought. He’d be so proud. “You do have muscles on those thin bones,” he would say and laugh.
I took a great deal of care digging the grave. It was almost as though I thought the nurse might complain if it weren’t just right. I dug a nearly perfect rectangle, cutting the corners sharply. I hit rocks a number of times. There was one big one I couldn’t get around, so I had to pause and go into the house to get the sledge-hammer. I was happy it happened because I had completely forgotten that I left the tool on the stairs. I decided to leave the sledgehammer in the grave with Mrs. Randolph. When I finished digging, I laid that in first.
Then I went back to the porch and got the suitcases. I stood there for a moment, a suitcase in each hand, looking out over the fields. Even though I was physically tired, I felt good. I felt invigorated. I took deep breaths and closed my eyes. The sun was behind the house now, but the rays were still very warm and soothing.
“Beautiful day, Mrs. Randolph. Too bad you never really enjoyed it up here. Some beautiful country, especially in the fall. Well, it’s time to go,” I said, and I marched out to the grave. I dropped the suitcases in, just the way a cab driver would put them into the trunk of his taxi.
“Hey,” I said remembering the cab driver who had originally brought her to the house, “you drew this assignment again, eh? Well, don’t worry. She’s changed since you first met her. She won’t complain about anything, not a thing. Although,” I whispered, “I’d better tip you in advance. Why take a chance.” I laughed as he would laugh. “I’ll get her now,” I said. I walked back to the porch.
“Time’s come, Mrs. Randolph. I know you’re eager to go.”
First I thought I might just lift her and carry her the way she had carried the doll, but I could barely get her body off the floor of the porch, and my back felt as though it would rip out. “Sorry. Looks like you’ll have to go the last few feet the same way you came out here.”
I took her legs by the ankles and pulled her off the porch. Her head bounced on every step and hit the earth solidly. The blood must have dried over the wound though, because the trip didn’t leave that much behind. It was much easier dragging her over the lawn. I lined her up beside the grave and then knelt down, avoiding her eyes, and turned her hard. She spilled over and into the hole. It was a snug fit. The grave wasn’t as wide as I had envisioned. I had to sit on the edge and push her down with my feet, leaving my footprints on the front of that once immaculate uniform.
“Sorry,” I said and stood up. I started for the shovel when I remembered the doll. I stood there looking back at it on the porch. The mummified little mannequin sent a shiver up my spine. “Got to do it all,” I said and walked back to the porch. I brought the doll to the grave and dropped it in on top of Mrs. Randolph. I found the best way not to think about it was to work hard and fast with the shovel.
After I was finished, I stood there leaning on the shovel and admiring my work. I would have to get some grass seed tomorrow, I thought. The two graves stood out clearly in the midst of the back lawn. I’d get some rye grass, and in a few weeks no one would be able to tell what was there. I wiped my forehead with my handkerchief, closed my eyes, and imagined I heard the sound of a taxi cab as it pulled away from the house. I could even see it disappearing down the country road as it went around the far turn.
“Well,” I said, “she’s gone.”
I turned back to the house and to Miriam. I thrust the shovel under the back porch, kicked the dirt off my shoes, and went inside. I remembered the thin streak of blood over the pantry floor, the kitchen floor, and the floor by the stairway, so I filled a pail with hot water and one of those miracle cleansers and began scrubbing away. It came off easily everywhere but by the stairs. I worked hard at it, but when I stood up and looked down, I thought I could still see slight shades of a red streak in the wood. I was tired and decided that I would work on it again tomorrow.
I put everything away and went upstairs to take a shower and change my clothes. All the while Miriam remained in the living room waiting. That was a good sign; it meant she was in control of herself and she was being obedient. I put on one of the shirts I knew she liked me to wear, brushed my hair neatly, dabbed cologne over my neck, and went down to her.
I was happy to see she had gone back to her knitting. She was seated on the couch and looked up from her work only after I had been standing in the doorway for a good minute. Her face was still a little flushed, but her eyes were dry. I saw that the checkerboard was gone from the table and the chairs had been put back in place. My hassock and easy chair were also back in their original place. The living room looked like it did before Mrs. Randolph had arrived. I nodded with satisfaction.
“So,” I said coming in to take my seat, “Mrs. Randolph has finally gone.”
“Has she?”
“Yes.”
We stared at each other for a moment. Her face looked as fragile and as soft as ever. Her eyes were warm and tender, revealing her vulnerability. My heart went out to her. I smiled so she would feel more relaxed and comfortable.
“I guess you were right after all, Michael. We didn’t need her.”
“Oh no, we didn’t need her. And despite whatever she did and said, Lillian never liked her.”
“I know. We just had a little talk about that. I thought Lillian might become terribly upset when she learned that Mrs. Randolph was gone. But she wasn’t. She told me the nurse often frightened her.”
“I don’t doubt it.”
I picked up my book, the one Mrs. Randolph had taken, and pulled the bookmark out from between the pages. I didn’t believe she had read that far anyway. She put the marker that far in just to make me feel inadequate.
“What do you think of the wheelchair?” Miriam asked. “Do you think we should continue with it?”
“No. I’ll call the company in the morning and have them pick it up.”
“We shouldn’t do anything different unless Dr. Turner tells us to, right, Michael?”
“Yes, dear, that’s right.”
“We ought to be able to sue that agency for sending such a person to us.”
“I don’t think we should spend any more of our time thinking about her,” I said. “She’s not worth it. I would rather we forgot about her and Lillian forgot about her.”
“Yes. That’s very good, Michael.” She started to knit again and then stopped to look up at me. “Should I play some music?”
“Not the old records again.”
“No. I put them away and took out the Carmina Burana.”
“Good.” I watched her go to the phonograph and start the recording.
“I’m going to make you one of your favorite meals tonight,” she said, “chicken and peapods in the wok.”
“I look forward to that, dear.”
She smiled and I looked down at the book. The music played. Miriam continued knitting, her simple, Mona Lisa smile returning. I looked back toward the stairway and Lillian’s room, listening hard for a moment. All seemed calm; all seemed well again.
I took a deep breath and began to read, thinking how wonderful it was now that Mrs. Randolph had finally gone.
14
* * *
NOTHING HAD CHANGED WHEN MORNING CAME. As I expected, our lives began all over again. Miriam settled into taking care of Lillian, and I did my chores around the house and looked after her. Two days later, I remembered to call Mr. Kasofsky at the bank. From his tone of voice, I could tell that he was surprised I hadn’t called earlier. I was glad I hadn’t. I wanted to show him how disdainfully I looked at the job and him now.
“I have been quite busy here,” I said, “because our nurse left.”
“Oh?”
“Yes. She couldn’t hack the country life. Too quiet for her nervous system, if you know what I mean.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. Are you getting someone else?”
“Not for the time being. That’s why I have decided to continue my sabbatical.”
“I understand,” he said with obvious relief in his voice.
“Not that I agree with you that I wasn’t ready to come back.”
“Well ...”
“On the contrary, I wish to participate more fully in my business affairs. I’ve neglected them too long. Consequently, I will be coming into the bank in a day or so to withdraw a major portion of my account.”
“Withdraw?”
“Yes. I intend to work on other investments. Good day, Mr. K.,” I said, and I laughed to myself after I hung up. I could imagine the expression on his face. How the chatter would fly in the bank!
Later that d
ay I received a phone call from Dr. Turner. I had just finished cleaning what had been Mrs. Randolph’s room. I didn’t want the slightest trace of her to remain. I vacuumed the rug; I searched the dresser and chairs for any hair that might have fallen from her head. I opened the windows wide to air out any odor that was reminiscent of her. Of course, I stripped down the bedding and scrubbed the headboard. I worked fast, but meticulously.
I wasn’t surprised when Dr. Turner called. I had been expecting it. I had thought that he would sound more angry. After all, Mrs. Greenstreet must have described my visit to his office in great detail. But he was his same old calm and controlled self. I even felt he was nauseatingly solicitous.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t here when you needed me, Michael,” he began, “but you know of my tragedy.”
“Yes. You have our sympathies. I waited as long as I could before taking action. I apologize if I was rude to Mrs. Greenstreet.”
“She did tell me how perturbed you were.”
“I had good reason to be, as I was trying to tell you before you left.”
“I’d like to hear more about it. Perhaps I should also speak with Mrs. Randolph. Is she there?”
“Here? Of course not. Didn’t Mrs. Greenstreet tell you that I called her agency from your office?” He was quiet for a long moment. I thought we might have been cut off. “Dr. Turner?”
“Yes.”
“I made it very clear that Mrs. Randolph had to go. The agency director was very sympathetic. I had the suspicion that mine wasn’t the first complaint about her.”
“I see. Michael, do you think it would be all right if I took a ride to talk to you?”
“Now?”
“I would like to learn some of the details.”
“It’s awfully close to dinner.”
“I don’t expect to stay long.”
Tender Loving Care Page 23