The Grey Door

by Danna Wilberg

  Tears trickled down her cheeks. Isolation, pain, and the heartache of not knowing her mother’s fate pushed any chance for optimism beyond her reach. She felt helpless. You need Dr. Meltz. The sandman came instead.

  ***

  “Calm down, Mr. Fortier,” the floor nurse scolded. “We’ve moved Miss Simms to isolation.”

  “Where’s the officer that was guarding her room?” Paul gestured toward the empty hallway.”

  “Relax. No one is getting into that room without a badge.” The nurse held up her badge and pointed to the bar code at the bottom left corner. “See? The room is controlled. No one can go in or out without an alarm going off. The air is sucked into a filter before and after the seal is broken. No one getting in, no one getting out without a stink. Feel better now?”

  “Can I see her?”

  “Not for forty-eight hours. We want to make sure the bacteria stays contained.” She lowered her voice. “Staph is nasty. No wants it spread around here. Get my drift?”

  “Can she receive phone calls?”

  “Call her in a few hours. Eva just gave her something to help her sleep. Here, look.” The nurse clicked the button on her mouse. Within seconds, the monitor revealed Grace sleeping soundly.

  “Feel better, now?”

  “Yes. Much. Thanks.”

  “She needs a few days’ rest. Looks like you could use some yourself. Go home. Catch some shut-eye. Call her in the morning.

  We’ll tell her you stopped by, Mr.—”

  “Fortier.”

  The nurse jotted Pauls’ name on a Post-It and pasted it on the screen. “There we go; now scoot. We can handle it from here.”

  Reluctantly, Paul conceded. He decided to use the time to track down Jess. The sooner Jess was found, the less of a threat he would be to everyone.

  ***

  The last sliver of light slipped past the jetty. Jess checked the illuminated numbers on his watch. “Okay, José, where the fuck are you?” He leveled the sand around his left boot with his right heal. The sound of an engine caught his attention. “’Bout fuckin’ time!”

  José jumped out of the driver’s side of the truck. Willie came out the passenger door. The two men hastened to the bed of the truck and released the tailgate. Metal scraping metal frightened one field mouse out of hiding, then another. More squealed inside the bush. Jess squeezed off a round from his .45. José flinched. Jess marveled at the bits of flesh and fur flying through the air.

  “What’s the matter José?”

  “Jeez, man. Someone gonna hear you!”

  “I say kill the fuckers. They scream like little girls.”

  José and Willie carried the cage from the tailgate of Jess’s truck. José proceeded to unlock the padlock and open the cage door.

  “Nice ‘n’ smooth. No creaking. Jus’ like chu said.

  “Well, gracias, José. You managed to do one fuckin’ thing right. Did you bring the house key?”

  “Chu don’t know?” José’s steely glare took Jess’s machismo down a notch.

  “Don’t be so sensitive, José. It doesn’t suit you, man.”

  Willie looped hemp rope around the cage, coiled it around the cleats and secured it with a square knot. He didn’t speak, nor did his hand stray far from the stiletto tucked inside his belt.

  Jess took José aside. His arm slipped around José’s shoulder, buddy-buddy style.

  “Can we trust this fucker?”

  José looked insulted.

  “He’s my cousin.”

  “I don’t care if he’s your mother. Can we trust him?”

  “Sí.”

  “Excellent. Because I know where your mother lives, and I would hate to have to explain to her that I’m slicing her lips off because her son couldn’t find me good help.”

  “Sí.”

  “Oh, and your sister...she’s what? Twelve now? Or is it thirteen?” Jess rubbed his manhood slow and deliberate. “Shit, she’d probably cum before I did.”

  José didn’t budge. The rims of his eyes reddened. His pupils dilated to large, black pools. Jess patted him on the back. “Relax, man! I gotta be sure, that’s all.” Jess smiled. Like a shark. “C’mon.

  Vamonos!”

  Willie covered the cage with a canvas tarp. He diligently fastened bungee cords to one another to keep the tarp from billowing. When he finished, he hopped into the front seat.

  Jess made a bugle call with his closed fist. José ignored Jess’s humorous attempt and got into the truck. He waited for Jess to start his motor before following suit.

  Jess hummed Macarena all the way to the hospital. When they reached the parking lot, Jess called José on the phone.

  “Testing, one, two. Wait for me to come out the back door. I’ll be in a hurry, so don’t fuck around. Be ready.”

  Jess pulled coveralls over blue scrubs. He clipped his badge to his pocket and adjusted a cap on his head. He fastened the tool belt around his waist. He grabbed his bag and the clipboard from the front seat of the truck. Forged documents authenticated his visit. In case someone asked questions, he was prepared. His footfall broke the silence of what could be perceived as a quiet night. The corners of his mouth lifted in victory. In fourteen minutes Grace Simms would be his forever…Or…she’ll wish she were dead.

  ***

  Dr. Meltz stood by Fran’s bedside. The med nurse swapped a new saline bag for an empty while the night nurse, Amanda, inspected the pic line on Fran’s wrist. “Boy, news travels fast,” the nurse said.

  “She’s a dear friend. I appreciated the call.”

  “I wish I could tell you we’ve seen progress, doctor.”

  Dr. Meltz lifted Fran’s hand and held it to his cheek. “I’m not a God-fearing man. I believe in miracles. I believe this woman is due for one of her own. She’s worked hard, raised an amazing daughter and stayed faithful to a man who never deserved her. I think God can be merciful and give her a chance at happiness.”

  “You won’t get any arguments from me!” Amanda checked the catheter bag. Empty. “Fran is a saint around here.”

  “We’ll turn her after your visit, Dr. Meltz.”

  “Thank you, Amanda. I won’t be long. I have a grandbaby to hold thanks to this wonderful woman.” Amanda and the med nurse left the room.

  “Well, Fran. I think we’ve survived the worst of it,” he said. “The girls know about each other, about Roger. The worst is behind us. Now all you have to do is wake up so we can celebrate our blessings.” Dr. Meltz sat on the edge of the bed. His words spoke in tender tones, “You know I’ve loved Grace from the start. When Roger put her in my arms for the first time, I knew she was special, like my Willa. And although neither child came from my loins, they came from my heart. I want us to be a family, Fran. A real family. No more secrets. Grace loves you so much, and although she may be guarded at times, her respect and admiration for you never wanes. She needs you, Fran. You’re her rock. You are the woman she aspires to be, and one day you will hold her children and love them as I do Willa’s. Come back to us, Fran. I know you can. You’re a fighter, the toughest broad on the block. Come back. Watch Grace fall in love, get married, and bring joy to your life. You can do it. Please, Fran. Don’t leave us just yet.” Dr. Meltz held Fran’s hand for what seemed an eternity. He watched the monitors, willing them to display a spike in brain activity. When that failed, he prayed. When he finished praying, he kissed her hand and started all over again.

  ***

  Paul’s stomach begged for food. One quick stop won’t kill me, he thought, exiting the elevator. The cafeteria was closed, but the vending machines were an option. He dug in his pocket, found his wallet and three one-dollar bills. His lucky day. A sandwich will suffice.

  Just as he inserted the first bill into the machine, the lights flickered. The machine hummed, sputtered and quit, with his bill flopping half way out of the slot.

  Then, the hallway went dark.

  “Shit.”

  ***

  When emergency
generators kicked in, chaos broke out just as Jess predicted. Patients screamed, groaned, and called to nurses who scurried like the field mice he saw earlier in the bush. He ran up three flights of stairs, stopping occasionally to bark orders to some poor aide. When he reached Grace’s room, he slowed down. “Showtime,” he said, lifting the IV bag off its hook. In the dim light, it was difficult to see which pedal worked the bed’s brake. Easy buddy, stay cool. Found it! He released the bed’s brake, pushed a chair out of the way and swung the bed out the door. He rolled the bed down the hallway at a brisk pace. No one stopped him.

  At the end of the dimly lit corridor, Jess hit pay dirt. The group of wheelchairs gathered in the corner looked like a knitting circle. Jess hooked the IV onto the metal post. He gathered bedding pillow and all, plopping the bundle into the chair. “It’s okay, babe. I just gotta get you outta here.” Jess abandoned the bed. He checked his watch. Three minutes left. Fuck.

  He hurried to the stairway leading down to the back door. No time to spare. He dialed José. Meet me at the back door. Now!” He gathered the bundle tightly, lifting her over one shoulder. “Fuck, Grace, I’m gonna have to put you on a diet,” he grumbled. Three flights of stairs…two…one. He barreled out the back door, leaving behind a cacophony of alarms. He packed the bundle into the cage, clicked the lock, and drove away. Free.

  ***

  Paul followed dim, emergency lights through the corridor, his heart matching his pace. He hadn’t experienced this kind of exhilaration in six years since traipsing through desert and land minds. Perspiration formed on his brow, under his arms, and behind his knees. His mission? Grace.

  “Mister, can you help me?” the old lady cried. Clear tubing had caught under her foot. Her hospital gown gaped open, one sock missing.

  “It’s okay, ma’am. The lights will be back on before you know it. Let me help you back in bed.”

  “Do you know my son, Robert? He’s taking me home tomorrow.”

  “I don’t know Robert, but I’m sure he’s a great guy. There you go. Back in bed.” Paul wanted to run out the door, to make haste down the hall, but this woman was frail and needed her IV re-seated. The needle pulled away from her hand and was bleeding all over the bed. Paul removed the dangling needle and applied pressure. His heart began to slow. Tenderness kicked in. He scoured the cupboards feeling for gauze.

  “Here we go. I’m going to wrap some of this around your hand and see if I can get you some help.”

  The woman smiled and shook her head in agreement. “Don’t be too long, doctor; I’ll miss my show.”

  Paul maneuvered his way back to the second floor, listening to the voices of scared and confused patients. Their cries triggered memories of battle, of helpless women and children, their world blown to pieces. He had to block out the past. His main objective: reach Grace.

  ***

  Grace awoke to darkness. The room lacked air. Hard to breath. She pressed the call button clipped to her pillowcase. No one answered. Her heart began to pound. Her wound started to throb. Fear, thick as sour milk rose in her throat, making it hard to swallow. “Hello? Can anyone hear me?” Louder. “Hello!” Her heart beat faster. “Hello!”

  She reached for her cell phone. One bar. Hardly enough to make a call. She dialed Paul. Breathe. Nothing. The only thing she heard was the ragged sound of her breath and blood coursing through her eardrums.

  When her eyes adjusted to the dark, she slipped out of bed. She pulled the drape aside and felt relief seeing lights twinkling in the distance. She flipped a switch. She remained in the dark. “What the hell?” She tried flipping the switch again. Nothing.

  A small red light blinked above the door. A beeping noise barely broke the silence. Grace listened for the whooshing sound.

  Nothing. She felt her way through the darkness. Surely the nurses would understand her dilemma. After all, they wouldn’t expect her to stay in a room with no oxygen! The door wouldn’t budge. Shit. She retraced her steps and got back into bed. She pulled the covers to her chin. Mom. She wondered how her mother was getting along, in the dark. I wish you were here.

  Keep your mind occupied, her better sense stated. Her thoughts shifted to her clients. What could she do to help Tiny Burton deal with his AIDS? What about Arlene Pratt? The last time they met she had a breakthrough. Arlene remembered answering the door and the boys who performed the home invasion robbery. What about Leonard and his crisis at the old people’s home? She had a life and clients who depended on her! She had no business lying in bed with an infection! Sal, good old Sal would handle everything. The way her mom never had? What a cruel thought. Then why have it? Because deep down she knew her mother had given up on motherhood before Grace was out of junior high school, before she even knew she needed a mom. Tears gathered in her eyes. Heartbreak sat on the ledge of reason. What would she do without her mom interfering in her life? Telling her what was best for her? Tears turned to sobs. Helpless was a word she had long extracted from her vocabulary, but helpless was the only word to describe her predicament right now. “Funny how that works,” she heard herself say. She remembered Wilde Defoe. How desperate and alone he sounded before the avalanche. His cries for help went unheard as tons of dirt buried him alive. Stop. You’re being melodramatic. Just then, a motor kicked in, the sound of forced air melodious to her ears. The sound seized. She listened to the silence that proceeded, waiting for something to happen. Suddenly, the lights flickered. Darkness. The lights flickered again. This time, they remained. The whooshing sound she hated earlier now seemed like the breath of angels.

  There was hope.

  ***

  Fran Simms stirred. Her eyes felt sticky like they had been glued shut. Her throat felt parched. “Water,” she pled. No one heard. The lights danced to a disco beat. Chicago, 1979. Roger took the lead. Polyester suits, hot pants, and The Bee Gees. That was the night Roger made love to her like never before. That evening, she knew. Conception was inevitable. Her wish was about to be granted. Grace.

  Tubes snaked from her arm to an IV pole. Her memory foggy. She remembered answering the door. Jess. Why was he there again? She couldn’t recall. Oh well. Old age I guess. It’ll come to me. The room flooded with light. Odd, she thought.

  ***

  Paul made it to the nurses’ station. The fiasco came to an end when the lights came on and stabilized. He stood outside of the pressure controlled room and hung his head.

  “Come with me,” the brunette nurse said. “You’ll have to gown-up, mind you. But I think Miss Simms is going to need a friendly face, after all this. Maintenance is working on the power outage, but I think the worst is behind us.”

  “What happened?”

  “We still don’t know for sure. Rumor has it someone posing as a maintenance worker rigged a timer to the power grid. If it’s any consolation, Miss Simms is lucky. The woman who was admitted to the room she was in is…well…missing!”

  Paul felt sick. “Missing?”

  “Security is combing the hospital. She couldn’t have gotten far. She took her bed with her. Crazy, huh? We’ll find her. I just thought it was ironic. That’s why I mentioned it.”

  “Yea, there’s a lady in 107 that needs a new IV. She pulled hers out during the blackout. I wrapped it up the best I could. Can you see to it she gets it fixed?”

  “Sure. I’ll bet Miss Simms is going to be glad to see you!” They donned paper gowns, booties, and masks. “Just don’t stay too long, okay? My ass will be on the line for doing this.” Paul nodded.

  One door opened, the air decompressed. When the next door opened, Paul rushed into the room. Grace could barely be seen, the covers pulled almost completely over her head. She was crying.

  “Grace?”

  She lowered the covers from her face. “Oh Paul,” she cried. “The lights were out. The air—”

  “I know sweetheart; everything’s okay now. It was a power outage. Everything’s under control.”

  “My mom! I’m so worried.”

  Paul
and Grace pinned the brunette with inquiring eyes.

  “I’ll check.” The brunette nurse went about her routine recording Grace’s vitals first. “How’s your pain?”

  “Better now,” she said, squeezing Paul’s hand. Their eyes met and held. Suddenly, she felt warm inside. Relieved. At peace. A crisis had come and gone, and she survived. Her reward? Love. At this very moment, she loved this man who stood by her. He may never know it, but she did. She was capable of loving. That’s all that matters.

  “Okay. Keep it short,” the nurse said. “Ring me so I can let you out. I’ll check on your mom. Enjoy your visit. Mum’s the word.”

  Paul pulled the mask away from his face. “I want you,” he said.

  “Right now?”

  “Is there a problem?”

  “Just that I have a hole in my hip. Does that count?”

  “I’m not talking about your body, although I must say you look ravishing in cotton. I’m talking about tomorrow and the next day. Next month. Next year. I want you in my life forever.”

  “Forever is a long time,” she said. “The lights were only off, what? Fifteen minutes?”

  “Yeah, but fifteen minutes felt like an eternity when I thought of you alone.”

  “How do you always manage to say the right things?”

  “I won’t always say or do the right things, Grace, but I can guarantee when it comes to you, I will always try. I love you. I’m in love with you, and I’m falling in love with you even more as we speak. I’m not your dad or your ex-boyfriends. I’m not Garret. I’m Paul Fortier, and I love you with all my heart, the only way I know how to love.”

  “Are you always going to remind me?”

  “Every day too much?”

  “Yeah, maybe. How about twice a week?”

  “Do you want me to tell you in the throes of passion? Or when I’m helping with the dishes?”

  “Dishes? You do dishes?”