“Your behavior isn’t crazy. Frustrating, yes; crazy, no. It is what it is. I know I have to be patient. You have a lot to deal with. You certainly have more on your plate than I do.”
“That doesn’t dismiss the fact that I haven’t been fair to you. I’m sorry. I knew I shouldn’t have stayed.”
“Staying has nothing to do with it,” he said.
“I’m giving mixed messages.”
“No, I am,” he replied. “I keep telling you to take your time, and then I get anxious. But, that has nothing to do with whether you stay here or not. I invited you so that you could feel safe and connected. I don’t want you to feel completely abandoned from your old life. I never want you to feel like you have to go through all of this alone. I want you to feel like you can stay here anytime with no pressure. I really am trying to give that to you. I am.”
“Bill, you have been more than patient and understanding. I don’t deserve you.”
“Yes you do,” he said. He set his coffee on the table. “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course,” she said.
“You can be honest with me. I don’t mean any pressure in asking. I just don’t want you to feel like you can’t tell me. Are you attracted to me? I mean, do you feel anything, or have you discovered that it was all a mistake?” he asked.
“Oh Bill,” her eyes filled.
“You can tell me. I promise, I’ll be your friend forever and support you no matter what. I understand if it was a mistake. Maybe you opened your heart to me and realized that you shouldn’t have. I just need to know. It will be easier for us both.”
“No! Not at all! It wasn’t a mistake. I’m very attracted to you! I’ve always been attracted to you—always. You have to understand, I’ve had to block my attraction to you for so many years. I’m a lot more confused than I’d expected to be at this point. That is all. I’m not even sure confused is a fair word. It is more like I’m dead. Something has to wake up in me again. I don’t know. That is the best I can explain it.” She walked up to him and took his hand in hers. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but I have to continue to say it. Give me time, please?”
“Okay, time,” he said as he caressed her hand, “time is my gift. It is all yours.”
“Thank you,” she said. She reached over his hands and leaned in. He moved closer and closed his eyes in anticipation, and she kissed him gently—on the cheek.
He walked back to his coffee unable to hide his disappointment. She was left staring at the space he’d walked out of.
“I have to get used to the frustration over the passion I feel for you,” he said with a chuckle.
“I just don’t want it to go away,” she said with a cry in her voice.
“Oh Baby, you don’t ever have to worry about that!” he laughed out loud.
14
Mary found her way to Clifford’s room and peeked in. A nurse walked down the hall.
“Good morning. Are you here to see Mr. Brown?” she asked.
“Yes,” Mary said.
“He just came back from some tests. We had him up early,” she whispered as she glanced into the room. “He may be out for a while.”
“Well that is too bad,” Mary said. “I brought him some cherry pie to share with the staff.”
“Oh how nice! Isn’t that sweet of you,” the girl said. She grabbed the pie out of Mary’s hands. “I’ll take this to the break room. Everyone will be thrilled. It looks marvelous. Cliff is already a third floor favorite! Wait till the staff finds out he comes with cherry pie,” she teased.
Mary was startled at how quickly the pie was out of her hands. She watched it glide around the corner out of site. She slipped quietly into Clifford’s room. She sat in an uncomfortable chair with her purse in her lap and listened to the peaceful rhythm of his breathing until he opened his eyes. She waited for him to discover her.
“Mary!” he said quietly.
“Hello, Captain,” she said. “I brought you a cherry pie but a young lady stole it right out of my hands! I’ll go see if I can find her.” She stood up to leave.
“No, Mary,” he said, “I don’t need pie. I’m glad you’re here.”
She stood up next to the bed and patted his hand. “I didn’t want you to think I came empty handed. Do you need anything? I can find the nurse.”
“No, no,” he said, “I just need someone to talk to.”
“Well, I can do that!” she laughed. “Lord knows I have a great deal experience at that. I’ve never been known to be short on the gab.” She blushed with a grin.
He glanced about the room. “How long are they going to keep me here?”
“I suppose until they’re sure you are all better and ready to go home.”
“Well, how long do you suppose that will be? I sure would like to go now.”
“I’ll go ask,” Mary said. She gathered her purse on her shoulder.
“No, don’t go. They’ll come. They come every ten minutes or so. They bother me day and night. A man can’t get any rest here!”
“Well, I’ve been here for nearly thirty minutes and nobody has bothered to check on you.”
“Good! Maybe they forgot about me!” Clifford’s eyes suddenly widened and his expression changed completely. He stared at the corner of the room. “Oh,” he said.
“What’s the matter?” She looked to where he was watching. She didn’t see anything. “What, what are you looking at?”
“Kevin. He is here again,” he said plainly.
“Kevin?” she asked. “He is where again?”
“He’s over there,” Clifford pointed to the corner of the room. He didn’t seem anxious or worried. He was simply amused.
“Where?” she asked.
“Over there,” he slowly lifted his finger in the direction he was looking.
“I don’t see anybody.”
“Apparently, I am the only one who can see Kevin,” Clifford explained.
“Kevin? Who is Kevin?” she asked still looking in the direction that Clifford was pointing.
“Kevin! He is the guy that caused all the trouble. He is the one that jumped in front of the bullet when the gun went off.”
“Anna Marie’s Kevin?”
“Yes, he died. I died too. Did they tell you that, Mary?”
“Clifford, you are talking crazy. You’re scaring me.”
“There is no need to be scared. He isn’t here to hurt anyone. They told me that he has unfinished business.”
“Who told you?” Mary asked.
“The angels.”
“The angels?” Mary stood up and gathered her purse once more. “You talked to angels?”
“I sure did. I saw Jesus too.”
“Jesus?” She slowly started making her way toward the hall to flag down a nurse.
“Yes, Jesus.” Clifford’s eyes were heavy and his words were becoming labored.
“What did Jesus say to you?” she asked.
“He told me to come back here.” He grinned and spoke softly, “He also told me to say, ‘hello’ to you.”
“Oh,” Mary stopped, “Jesus told you to say hello to me?”
“Sure did,” Clifford said. He started to drift off.
“Did he say anything else?” she asked. It was too late. Clifford had closed his eyes.
Mary stepped into the hall. She eyed up the nurse who had taken the pie.
“Excuse me,” Mary called as the woman ducked into another room.
The woman backed up. “Oh, hello! I’ll be with you in a moment. Unless it is urgent, I have to see to Mr. Martin first. As soon as I am done, I’ll come by Mr. Brown’s room.”
“It is urgent!” she said with authority. The woman stepped back toward Mary and focused her attention on her. “First of all, I’d like to know where you took my pie and secondly, I’d like to know what you have given Mr. Brown for medications. They’ve made him loopy.”
“Ma’am, I understand your concern for Mr. Brown, but I don’t understand the urgency. I’ll be ri
ght with you.” She started back into the room.
Mary stopped her again, “You would understand the ‘urgency’ if it was your grandfather in the other room hallucinating and somebody stole his pie!”
The woman stopped and smiled warmly, “I’m sorry,” she said. “He is most likely experiencing some post-operative symptoms. It is not uncommon for patients to express strange visions or experiences. I’m sure he will stop doing that very soon. I took your pie to the break room. The staff enjoyed it immensely. In fact, they have devoured every morsel of it! Everyone thanks you very much!” The woman quickly disappeared into the room again before Mary could stop her.
Mary stood lost in the silence. She turned on her heel. When she walked in the room Clifford’s eyes were closed, but he was mumbling. She didn’t bother trying to make out what he was saying. She sat next to him. He slowly opened his eyes again.
“Mary, you’re back!”
“They ate your pie!” she said.
“Pie?” he asked.
“Yes, the cherry pie. I brought it for you. That rude nurse took it right out of my hands and fed it to the staff. I had expected that you would share it with the nurses and such, but that girl took the whole thing! They didn’t even bother to save you a piece.”
“Well that little— “ Clifford pulled his hand over his mouth to hold back his swear and said softly, “Sorry, Jesus!” He looked back at Mary, “Why would the nurse take my pie?”
“Clifford, are you talking to me, or are you talking to Jesus?”
“Both,” he grinned. “I apologized to Jesus because I promised to be more like him when I got back here. I don’t think he’d swear at the nurses.”
Mary looked around the room. “Are you seeing Jesus in this room?”
“Oh no, Mary. Jesus is handling things from heaven. Kevin is the one with the unfinished business.”
“Then why are you talking to Jesus?”
“Mary! Just because Jesus isn’t manifesting himself in this room doesn’t mean he can’t hear us. I always talk to Jesus, don’t you?”
“Well, yes I certainly do. I’m just not accustomed to people talking out loud to him in the middle of conversations.”
“That is the trouble. People don’t talk about him enough. I promised him I would talk about him more.”
“Okay, Clifford,” she paused. Then for her own amusement, she asked, “What else did Jesus have to say—when you spoke to him in heaven?”
“I don’t remember everything. We had a nice conversation though. I do remember one very specific thing he told me.”
“Oh, what was that?” Mary asked, but she was only half listening for the answer. She was more concerned with the need for the nurse to show up.
“He told me to come back here and marry you.”
“Okay.” Mary stood up. “This has to stop! You have been hallucinating!”
“Hallucinating? I’m not hallucinating Mary. It was all very clear to me.”
Mary walked to the door again and looked down the hall.
“What are you doing?” Clifford asked with a chuckle.
“I’m just looking for that nurse child, that’s all,” she said.
“The witch with the pie? Oops, sorry, Jesus. Just so you know, I wasn’t being wicked. It was just a joke, Mary. Jesus likes to laugh. Did you know that? He has a great sense of humor.”
“Lord, where is that woman?” Mary said as she continued to stare down the empty hall.
“Funny thing, when you want them—they’re never around. When you want to be left alone, they won’t go away. I really don’t like this place! Why don’t you take me home?”
“If they keep drugging you up like this, I certainly will,” she said as she leaned further into the hall. No one was in sight.
15
Liz walked past the wood shop and through the backstage. Gary was wrapping up the cord to the ghost light when he spotted her.
“Hey Liz,” he said.
“Gary!” They exchanged a platonic hug. They’d agreed not to show affection to one another at work.
“Is there a sign in sheet?”
“No,” Gary replied, “Diane didn’t want me to put one out. She has another warm up game she wants to start playing with the cast instead of the typical sign in.”
“Great,” Liz muttered under her breath.
“Play nice,” Gary said.
“I am. I mean—I will,” Liz said with a frown.
Gary knew that Liz hated the games that Diane had been introducing to the cast. She felt they took time away from the rehearsal process and cheapened the professional environment. Liz heard one cast member say, ‘if I wanted to play games like this, I would have signed up for summer camp’. Anna Marie had always encouraged the cast to warm up, but she used what Liz would call legitimate warm ups and exercises. Diane’s games resembled something more along the lines of awkward party mixers and—getting to know you games.
Gary set the lamp behind the curtain and called for Liz, “Liz, can you give me a hand with this?” When she walked into darkness of the backstage, he had his hands on a small table. “Thanks, luv!” he said in his best British accent.
Gary felt the need to bond with Liz as an actor. Most of his training was in the technical theatre world. He’d never gotten passed the proverbial step of what Liz had noticed most every beginning actor went through. When new actors find their attraction to the art, they believe that if they speak with an annoying English accent, they are ‘acting’. Liz felt that it had evolved to what many thought was a rite of passage or some code to the secret society of actors. When Gary first did it, she found it charming and flirtatious. She played along for a while, but he never stopped. His love of the accent continued to surface on a regular basis. He used every opportunity he could find to twist it into his flirtations. She didn’t have the nerve to tell him it wasn’t working.
“Quite welcome,” she responded in the accent painfully appeasing him. She grabbed the other side of the table and they carried it downstage.
“You could drop it right ‘ere’,” he said.
“Yes, you certainly could,” she responded in a quiet mutter.
“What’s that luv?” he asked.
“Nothing,” she said out loud and free of the accent.
Gary walked off stage and picked up a clipboard with several blank sheets of paper attached. He dropped two sharpened pencils next to it. Diane insisted that Gary set the table along with her clip board at the edge of the stage for each rehearsal. She liked to be close to the cast. The cast didn’t like it. They were used to Anna Marie sitting in her favorite seat in the back of the house for most of the rehearsals.
Liz found herself battling the negativity of a cast that wasn’t accepting change. As a leader, she knew it was her job to help with the transition. It was difficult because she was struggling too. She and Gary had decided that it was like a grieving process. Some of the cast members were still in denial that Anna Marie was no longer their director, others were beginning to accept the change, but most of them were just plain angry. Gary seemed to be the most tolerant. At least, he was doing a better job of hiding his frustrations. She tried to follow his lead.
“Don’t forget, Diane wanted you to pull rehearsal skirts for the trio,” Liz said as they walked backstage.
“Oh shoot, I almost forgot about that. Do you mind helping? I have no idea where that box is.”
“No, worry. I know where it is.”
“Thanks, Luv.”
“Gary—”
He turned and raised an eyebrow at her. “What, Buttercup?”
It was too much. His wide eyes made him look like an adorable lost puppy. She grinned. “Nothing. Never mind.”
They started toward the costume room. Damion stopped them in the hall. Damion was a new member of the troupe. The Scary Little Plant Shop was his first role with the Star Bright. His singing voice was deep, full and tremendously soulful. It didn’t sound anything like his natural speaking voice a
nd served as a huge contradiction to his body type and personality. He was a thin flashy young man with an intentional lisp.
“Hey there Gorgeousness,” he said to Liz as she passed by. He stopped and looked Gary up and down. He gave his outfit a thumbs up. “—and hello there Mr. More than Gorgeousness!” Damion had named them the GD squad; ‘The Gorgeous Duo’. He often endearingly teased them both by referring to Liz as ‘gorgeous’ and Gary as ‘more than gorgeous’. When he found out Gary was dating Liz, he made it a game to flirt with them both.
“Do you GD’s have any idea what we are working on tonight?”
“No,” Gary said, “Diane hasn’t put out a rehearsal schedule. She said she likes everybody to be prepared for anything.”
“Okay,” he said, “I can roll with that. I’m just not used to working without rehearsal sheets and calendars. I don’t go anywhere or do a thing without my planner.” He pointed to a satchel that was strapped over his shoulder and continued to head toward the stage. He stopped, “Can I ask you guys something?”
“Sure,” Gary said.
“Did you know that motorcycle guy that was killed here?”
“Yeah, why?” Gary asked.
“Nothing really, I’ve just been hearing a lot of talk from the actors. It is kind of giving me—” he comically shook his whole body, “the heebee jeebies—if you know what I mean.”
“What have they been saying?” Liz asked. Bill had spoken to the cast on more than one occasion about the matter. She knew he would be disappointed if the cast was still talking about the situation. It would be even worse if they were spreading rumors to the new members. He’d been firm in insisting that he didn’t want to hear anything more about Kevin. He especially didn’t want to hear about his ghost.
“Well, I heard a couple of the guys say they’ve heard his motorcycle ‘rev up’ in the shop while they were working on the stage late at night. One of the girls swears he stands in the corner of the dressing room and watches them change. Somebody said that Bill even admitted that he has been totally messing with the lights in the whole building. I just don’t like that stuff!”
“I don’t either,” Liz said. “Some people just like to start stupid drama. I guess their lives are boring.”
The False Exit Page 6