A Dove for Eddy

by Sherry Elliott

  Chapter 8

  This isn’t my family or my business, she told herself. I can’t help that girl anyway. I’m not God. Why did I get involved with people who were complete strangers just a couple of days ago? She remembered the disappointment she had seen on Porter’s face. She rubbed her forehead, as if trying to erase the memory. “I got to get out of here.” She turned around looking for help, but there were no familiar faces. “Well, I’m not too old to walk,” she said stubbornly. She looked at the bony outline of her toothpick legs protruding through the polyester pants, and argued, “I could walk home.” Then she remembered the news stories she had heard about drive-by shootings. “Blasted cowards!” A few pedestrians glanced at her and then quickly walked away. “Shooting at people who are unarmed,” she yelled.

  People didn’t used to do such things. It used to be safe for people to walk and even hitchhike. She recalled the time she and her friend Betty Lou had hitchhiked into town when they were teenagers. An old man had picked them up and asked them where they were going. He then drove out of his way to drop them off right in front of the movie theater, and he even gave them spending money before driving off. The two girls had spent the day in the big city without any trouble.

  She would never forget it; they had seen “Key Largo” with Humphrey Bogart and Lauren Bacall. Betty Lou had told her that she looked a little bit like Bacall, only a lot shorter. But unlike Bacall, Eddy’s voice had always been high-pitched and a bit squeaky. “They don’t make great movies like that anymore,” she said. Eddy wished her friend Betty Lou was with her today, but she, like so many others in her life, had died many years ago. “Well at least when I do get there, there’ll be a crowd to greet me,” she said. “They might even throw me a party. Did you hear that, Fred? I’d like to have a party waiting when I cross over.” Then she caught herself; she wasn’t at home.

  Eddy had stood in the rain long enough to get cold and wet. She sneezed and wiped her nose on her sleeve. Pulling her collar up, she wrapped her arms around her chest. Then she tottered back into the hospital. She saw the lobby to her left and ventured into the crowded waiting room. The room still had the same blue walls and gray carpet that had been there when Fred had been hospitalized. The paint was sorely in need of a touch-up, and many of the chairs were damaged. She found a tan vinyl recliner chair, and after making sure there were no obvious stains, she plopped down. Eddy was ever mindful of her purse and kept it close at hand.

  She kept a little spending money in her pocket, but never in her purse. Her purse was a decoy, which was stuffed with old paper and hand sanitizer. But, it was a good purse, and she didn’t want to lose it or the germicide, so she carefully wrapped the strap of the purse over her left shoulder, and then weaved her right arm through and positioned it over her abdomen, and lastly she intertwined her fingers over the handbag’s opening. “Those knuckleheads don’t think old people are smart enough to hide their money. I’ll show them,” she mused.

  She scanned the waiting room for suspicious characters, and satisfied that, at least for the moment, she was safe; she reclined and closed one eye. Easy listening music was playing on the overhead speakers. She recognized some of the tunes, but most of them sounded like a bunch of racket.

  The paging system periodically interrupted the music with a page for this doctor or that doctor to call some number. It was all too much. She needed to get back home where life was safe and predictable. Trying to devise a plan of escape, she fought the exhaustion. But, her head began to weave and bob, and soon she was fast asleep.

  “Ms. Eddy, wake-up now.” Joe took his cane and tapped the sole of her shoe. “What are you doing here?”

  Eddy roused up and wiped the drool from her mouth. She felt disoriented. What was he doing in her house? Then she looked around at the strangers seated beside her and remembered that she was in the hospital. “What do you mean? Asking me; What am I doing here?” She fingered through her hair and straightened her collar. “I’m over twenty-one. I can sure enough do as I please.” Looking at him indignantly, she said, “What are you doing here?”

  “Excuse me, Ms. Eddy. I’m just here visiting my sister, and I see you here, by yourself, and I was worried about you,” he said. “I usually come here about this time.” He pulled out his wallet and examined its contents. “It's lunchtime, would you like to get some lunch?”

  The hair on the back of her neck bristled. If he’s not trying to get more money, she thought. “What’s a matter?” She clutched her purse to her chest. “Are you trying to get a free lunch?”

  “Lord, no.” Joe looked at her with the disappointment clearly showing on his face. “I never have tried to take you, and I’m not about to start now.” He removed his hat and shifted his weight to his good leg. “Can’t you accept an invitation to lunch, without getting suspicious?” He turned and started to walk away. “I have always been a stand-up man, and it looked like you could use a little help, that’s all.”

  “I don’t need any help.” The words slipped out before she could measure them. She immediately wished she had not been so stubborn, so defiant. Joe shrugged his shoulders and shook his head. Eddy recalled Joe’s words, “Invitation to lunch.” The words spun around her head, until she felt almost dizzy. Joe had invited her to lunch? He always helped her out, but she thought he had only wanted the extra cash. She cleared her throat. “Blast it all. Wait, wait just a minute,” she called. “I did have plans, but since you’re buying, I might be a little hungry.” Scooting to the edge of the cushion, she pushed herself up and out of the chair. Joe waited patiently for her, and then they set off down the long corridor toward the cafeteria.

  “My sister works in the kitchen, and she gives me a discount,” Joe said. He glanced over at Eddy to see if he had her attention. “I usually just get the soup of the day.”

  “Soup de jour,” Eddy chuckled. “It has been a long time since I heard about the soup of the day.”

  “I can’t recall you leaving the house,” he said.

  “Well, there might be some things you don’t know about me, Joe.”

  “Oh, I didn’t know I was going to have lunch with a mysterious lady,” he teased. “I thought that I had grown to know you pretty well over the years, but I guess I don’t know everything about you.” He pointed to the right with his cane. “This is the way to the cafeteria.”

  “Maybe you’d like to get out of the house again sometime,” he said. “When was the last time you left the house?”

  Eddy couldn’t remember the last time she had gone anywhere. She had gone to the grocery store just last year, or had it been two years? She couldn’t remember.

  Had it really been that long since she had ventured out? She became annoyed by his question and snapped, “Are you spying on me?”

  “Now, you know that I would never spy on you, Ms. Eddy.” He stopped walking and looked directly in her eyes. “You don’t really believe that, do you?” Eddy shrugged her shoulders. “Don’t you know me better than that?” Joe asked. Eddy looked away from him. “I’m just thinking that it would do you good to get out more often, that’s all,” Joe said.

  “I wouldn’t be out here traipsing around today if I didn’t have to,” she said. “The world’s just not safe anymore.”

  “It never has been safe,” Joe said. “But it’s still meant to be shared, and not holed-up away from people.” He winked at her and smiled. “You never know, you might even find someone special and fall in love again.” He quickened his pace.

  Love? She thought the word sounded strange and foreign, as if it belonged to another time, another place. Like some once visited, but now secluded, area, and she had grown too old and feeble to find its hiding place. Why was he speaking to her about love? After all, they were too old for such foolishness.

  Fred had been the only man in her life. Before Fred died, he had put everything in order so that Eddy would have minimal bills and minimal responsibility. He had even instructed Eddy to live her life and had given his b
lessing for her to marry again. But it was just prideful to think that love could visit a person twice in their life. Not only prideful, but just plain silly, she thought.

  Fred, now that was a good man. And I don’t know if he would approve of Joe. Fred was an easy going type of man, but he always knew when it was time to stand-up. He was a stand-up kind of man like Joe said he was.

  She wondered what Joe thought about her. Did he think she was attractive? After all these years, could it still be true? Her cheeks burned red, and she felt a little lightheaded, but she thought it might be good just to know one way or the other. Eddy decided to throw caution to the wind. She cleared her throat and lowered her voice. “Look here, Joe.” She made sure she had his full attention. She looked up at him as if she was posing for a photograph, gave him her best smile, and said, “Do you think I look like Lauren Bacall?”

  Joe stepped back and looked at her intently. “I can see a resemblance, yes I sure can.” Then he smiled approvingly. “You look a little like her, only a lot shorter.”

  Eddy felt her face flush. “That’s just what my friend Betty Lou used to say.”

  “I never heard you talk about her before. Does she live around here?” Joe said.

  “She used to live here.” Her voice trailed off, “But now she stays over at the Pine Lawn Cemetery.” She slowed her pace and caught her breath, “Next to Fred.”

  Joe stopped and braced himself against the chair rail as he waited for Eddy. “I got some friends over there too,” Joe said. “Now, we can’t worry about the ones who have crossed over. They don’t have any worries anymore.”

  Soon they arrived at the newly remodeled cafeteria. The entryway was lined with an assortment of exotic plants. Eddy put on her glasses, so that she could more closely inspect the foliage. But still not gaining enough perspective to identify if they were real or plastic, she bent over, and suddenly she lost her balance. She grabbed for the plant’s container to catch her fall but knocked the planter on its side, as she fell to her knees. Potting soil spilled all over the floor and all over Eddy. She scrambled to get up, but she wasn’t quite sure how to get back in a standing position. After crawling several feet, she sat down against the wall with her legs outstretched. “Confound it all, I wouldn’t have fallen if it wasn’t for those cheap imported pots!” She wiped the dirt from her hands. “They just don’t make things like they used to.”

  “Ms. Eddy, are you alright?” Joe leaned over to help her up, but Eddy shook her head.

  She grunted and coughed, “What do you mean? Am I alright? Of course I’m alright.”

  Joe cleared his throat and looked around for spectators. Luckily, much of the lunch crowd had already left, but there were a few troublesome teens huddled together in the corner pointing and laughing. Aiming his cane at them, Joe shook his head in disapproval. A few moments later, two security guards rounded the corner, and the taller guard escorted the misbehaving teens out the exit door. The remaining guard made his way over to Eddy. He tried unsuccessfully to persuade her to go to the Emergency Room, “Just to make sure you’re not injured,” he said.

  “If that’s not a bunch of hooey,” she said. “I’m not going to let some doctors poke and prod on me like I was a piece of meat. You can forget about that Emergency Room business.” She crossed her hands across her chest in stubborn defiance. “Well, that’s one way to drum up business,” she said, as the officer walked away. The housekeeper swept the spilled soil, while Eddy maneuvered into an upright position. “Let’s get out of here, this place is a mess,” she said, as she wiped off the dirt and sweat with Joe’s handkerchief. She found the hospital’s hand sanitizer mounted on the cafeteria wall, and liberally applied it to her hands and forearms.

  All of the cafeteria staff seemed to know Joe and greeted him warmly but not without a speculative look at his messy companion. A tall, olive-skinned woman waved at Joe. “I see you brought a friend today, Joe.” She smiled at Eddy. “My name’s Eloise, Joe’s baby sister.” She extended her hand to Eddy, but noticing Eddy’s dirty hands, Eloise quickly pulled her hand back.

  Eddy grabbed a napkin and wiped her hands. “I need to get this dirt off my hands before I get impetigo or something even worse like that flesh eating bacteria.” Eddy shook her hands nervously. “Who knows where they imported that dirt from?” Eddy shifted her feet from side to side as she swiped at the dirt. “Then I need to get me a smoke to settle my nerves.”

  Eloise smiled. “The restroom is right down the main hall, but this is a no-smoking facility.” She reached under the counter and pulled out a mint. “Here, take one of these.” She dropped the mint in Eddy’s front coat pocket. “I have to go without smoking for an entire eight-hour shift, and I go through a lot of mints.”

  “What’s the world coming to?” Eddy said, “Making it illegal to smoke. That’s unconstitutional.”

  She pointed her finger upward to make her point. “All those great people in history smoked: Franklin D. Roosevelt and Dwight D. Eisenhower. That was the good ole days. Makes me so mad I could just spit.”

  Eloise seemed amused by Eddy’s ranting. “I hear you, girl,” she said. Eloise arched her eyebrow at Joe and then winked. “Do you want the usual, Joe?”

  Joe nodded his head, “But that'll be two bowls of soup today, please.”

  “Well then, take your bad self on back to your favorite seat, and I’ll serve you like you were at a big fancy restaurant,” Eloise teased, as she motioned with her hands to shoo them away. “And I’ll show you a place where you can smoke without getting caught,” she whispered to Eddy. “Heaven knows, we don’t want to keep you from smoking too long. It could be dangerous.” Eloise chuckled.

  Eddy took longer than expected in the restroom, but when she emerged, her face had a nice pink glow, and her nails and cuticles were meticulous. She had even removed her shoes and rinsed them off in the sink.

  Joe waited patiently for her. “Do you see that fountain?” He pointed to a water fountain with a statue of St. John Nepomucene holding a cup of overflowing water.

  “Well, I’m sure not going to take a bath in it,” Eddy said as she brushed the soil from her clothing.

  “No, I was trying to tell you something, Ms. Eddy,” Joe said exasperated. “A long time ago, Father Michael told me that a king had Saint John drowned, and now he’s known as the patron saint of water.”

  “Humph,” Eddy sighed. “What did he do? Knock something over?”

  Joe looked at her, startled, as if not sure if he should be offended or laugh. “He was a saint. People tortured and killed saints.” Joe shifted his weight onto his good leg. “They were good people who didn’t deserve to die.”

  “I didn’t know you were religious, Joe,” Eddy said.

  “No, I’m not religious, but I believe every word in this book.” He reached in his front pocket and pulled out a small New Testament with tattered corners and yellowed pages. He kissed the worn cover and slipped it back into his pocket.

  “Hmm, it’s been a long time since I went to church.” Eddy said. “Some of them ladies at the church are like Fred’s cat; think they are too good for common folks. I don’t need any of that,” she said, then spit in the fountain.

  Joe gasped as he staggered backward. “What in the world are you doing, Ms. Eddy?” He looked around to make sure no one had seen them. “Lord Jesus, forgive her.”

  “That water isn’t clean anyway. Look at all that dirty money lying around in the fountain.” She pointed at the numerous coins. “It’s a shame to throw good money away when there are people who could use it.” They must have a guard posted or a surveillance camera to catch thieves who might try to steal all those people’s money, she thought. She looked up around the ceiling for hidden cameras, and she was not disappointed. Up toward the right of the fountain she saw a camera slowly scanning the area. “Look at that.” She pointed at the camera. “If they can afford to buy cameras to spy on people, you’d think they could afford some heavy-duty flower pots so people
wouldn’t get hurt. Sometimes the world just doesn’t make sense.”

  Joe looked at Eddy, baffled. “What don’t make sense?”

  “Why do they guard money, but don’t care about people?” She clucked her tongue.

  “And,” she continued. “Why did they kill a good person like St. John Nepomucene?”

  “I guess that people have always misunderstood what’s important in life.” Joe studied the details of the sculpture. “They were God’s light in the darkness sent to show us the way. They were just passing through.” He leaned on his cane and cleared his throat. “But I guess that none of us really see the whole picture.”

  Eddy thought about Joe’s words, as she scrutinized the statue of the martyred priest. How well she knew how cruel and unpredictable life could be. All of her friends, family, and even her husband had gone long ago, leaving her all alone. She looked over at Joe who was standing silently beside her, and suddenly she realized that she was not really alone. Joe had just showed up one day many years ago looking for odd jobs to supplement his retirement income, and over the years he had become more than just a hired hand. She had never really seen him as a friend, but today, things seemed different. She considered the many times he had been there to help her. “Joe,” she said reluctantly. “Forget about that Ms. Eddy nonsense.” She paused before continuing. “Just call me Eddy.”

  “I only call my friends by their first name,” Joe said. Joe waited a long anxious moment, before he continued. “Does that make us friends?”

  Eddy smiled and nodded her head yes.

  The aroma of cinnamon and fresh baked bread permeated the air. Soft music played overhead. There weren’t any overhead pages, any code blues, any hospital beds, and no people dying. Joe led her to a table for two in a cozy corner close to the fountain. He sat down and then leaned his cane against the edge of the table. “I like to come here to this quiet place to think. It’s a good place to think about God’s goodness and his provision.”

  “God’s goodness?” Eddy said. “It doesn’t look like He’s been that good to you, Joe.”

  “What do you mean?” Joe said.

  “Well,” she pointed to Joe’s cane. “You’re crippled, Joe.”

  “What, this cane? This cane was a gift from my sister.” He ran his hand over the cane’s smooth surface. “See here, a man carved it from a single slab of stone.” He held the cane up for Eddy to examine. “It helps me get around, but I’m not crippled.” Joe removed his jacket and placed it on the back of his chair. “Let’s say grace,” he said and then bowed his head in silent prayer.

  He unfolded a napkin and placed it upon his lap. “We all have troubles in life,” Joe said. “But you can’t let them keep you from getting up and walking.”

  “That’s a bunch of hooey, and you know it!” She crossed her arms and looked away. “I’ve had too much trouble in my life.”

  “Yes, I know about trouble,” Joe rubbed his swollen, arthritic hands. “I started using a cane about fifteen years ago, after my stroke. But it didn’t take me long to figure out that this cane don’t walk for me. No, I can’t walk by myself, but when I lean up against this cane, I can walk just fine. Sometimes we all need something to lean on to help us get around.”

  Joe arranged his silverware with the fork on the left and the spoon on the right. “You too, might need to steady yourself against something or someone who can help you find your legs. Don’t be afraid to hold onto someone in this life.”

  He reached across the table, “May I?” He said. Eddy was instinctively startled and tried to jerk her hand away, but Joe’s gentle touch comforted her, so she sat motionless. He held her hand in his and examined the red, dry, cracked skin. “Some of us work really hard to keep the world out, but life is a gift from God which is meant to be shared.” Silence passed between them as she contemplated Joe’s words. “We are all going to die someday,” Joe said. “But right now, your heart is still beating.” Eddy felt butterflies in her stomach, and her face burned crimson.

  Eloise arrived with soup and fresh warm bread. “You see what I found for you two? A Carnation left over from the hospital board’s luncheon today. Doesn’t this look pretty, even if it is sitting in a plastic water bottle?”

  “Flowers are what you bring to dead people,” Joe said. “There aren’t any dead people here.”

  “Excuse me, Joe, but even live ladies like flowers!” Eloise gave Joe her version of a playful evil eye and placed her hands on her hips. “Now, you listen to me, Joe, and take some notes. Women like to be treated special. Isn’t that right, Eddy?”

  Eddy swallowed hard and searched for words from the smoldering pot of emotions that left her reeling. She felt more alive today than she had in many years. She pinched herself. “Ouch,” she yelled as she rubbed her sore arm. “I’m sure enough alive.” They laughed.

  Joe and Eddy ate their soup in silence as they listened to the gentle murmur of the fountain. Eddy remembered the lentil soup that her mother made with bits of carrot and onion. Her mother’s secret ingredient had been a clove, which added a little sweetness to the broth. This soup was not sweet, but it was thicker than her mother’s watered down version.

  There had been many hard times during and after the depression, which required the thriftiness of watered down soup, but it had always been served with love. The taste of the soup brought back childhood memories which replayed themselves like a black and white film spliced together with smiles and tears. The clips raced before her. She tried to hold onto them to savor them for just a few minutes longer, but like smoke, they dissolved in her grasp. She thought a life should have lasted longer than the ten-second clips she viewed. Where had all the years gone? She glanced at her own wrinkled hands as she retrieved a spoonful of soup; they looked so old, so foreign. Yes, there had been many twists and turns in her life since her mother had ladled that soup up so many years ago. My, how things have changed, she thought.

  Eddy almost forgot that she was in the hospital and that someone she cared about needed her. Porter probably hasn’t eaten, she thought. She dropped the spoon and heard it click in the saucer. “That boy Porter that was at my house is here at the hospital,” Eddy said.

  “I know,” Joe replied. “I saw him checking up on you in the lobby while you were sleeping. He said he was worried that you would get lost.” Joe folded his napkin and laid it at the side of his bowl. “That boy found a friend in you, Eddy, and he could sure use a friend right now.”

  Eddy remembered the disappointment she had seen on Porter’s face when she had walked away earlier that day. She stiffened her upper lip and pounded her fist on the table. “I’m not going to cry,” she said. But she couldn’t hold them back. Long pent up tears wrapped up with bits of anger and hurt seeped up and found their way out. They cascaded down her face and formed puddles on the table.

  Joe passed her his handkerchief. Then he squeezed her hand tight. “You go ahead and cry, Eddy. Let out all that pain you’ve been holding onto for so long. God does not forget those that the world has forgotten. Nor does he turn a blind eye to our suffering.”

  Joe sat with her until the early evening. “Things are going to work out just fine,” he said.

  “Things are going to be fine.” Fred had said the same thing, but things had not been fine.

  After he passed away, she stayed in the house for days on end without hearing another human voice. She had felt sadness as heavy as a ton of bricks which had lodged in her chest and refused to move. She had settled for a “fine” which had become eating one meal a day and bathing twice a week. Fine had become a silent house and a grieving heart. But Eddy so longed for things to really finally “be fine” that she let the words sink down deep and comfort her. Her eyes were swollen and her nose was stuffy, but she began to share his confidence. She wiped her eyes and blew her nose. She pulled the antiseptic from her purse. Examined it, started to squeeze the bottle, and then she quickly returned it unused.

  “Joe, I got a job for
you,” she said. “There’s a friend who needs me.”

  “I understand,” Joe said and held out his elbow to escort Eddy. He led her to the entrance of Karen’s room, and then he reassured her that he would wait for her in the hallway.