but got caught behind a hefty woman with a big shopping bag, and by the time I got out in the hallway, they were nowhere in sight.
Most of the other people crowded around the nursing station, asking for room numbers and updates. I wasn’t about to go do that and give them a chance to remember me, so I glanced around.
The hallway ended abruptly a few hundred feet in one direction but stretched a long way in the other. Deciding to play the odds, I set off down the long portion, glancing in each room as I passed, looking to see if something would tell me which room was Kelly’s.
My luck held. I heard the clink of chains and sharp boot steps on the polished floor as I passed room 307. An elderly lady lay in the bed nearest the door, her eyes shut, but I could see Li’l Mama’s tight blue-jeaned derriere disappear behind the fabric curtain that separated the two beds.
The trick to sneaking in anywhere, I knew, was to act like being there was no big deal. Which in this case meant continuing confidently past the room while I considered what to do.
At the end of the hallway was a kind of lounge with a few people sitting there, some in wheelchairs. I turned around and headed back toward room 307. This time, I slipped into the room and pulled up a chair between the head of the old woman’s bed and the curtain, trusting the position and the subdued light to shield me from Kelly and her visitors.
The lights on this side of the room were dimmed. A gentle wheezing came from some kind of machine that had a tube leading to the patient’s nostrils. The person lying on the bed was an old, old woman, her head barely making a dent on the pillow, her eyes closed. Thank goodness she didn’t have any visitors. Until me.
I turned my head toward the woman in the bed so my face could not be seen from the doorway and listened to the conversation beyond the curtain.
One of the women was talking. That high pitched voice had to belong to Li’l Mama. “Your dad was thinking about coming up, but he decided to wait until you feel better. Or maybe get discharged. He hates hospitals. And he’s fit to be tied.”
Someone—Kelly?—murmured something, but I couldn’t make out the words. I leaned forward, straining to hear.
The old woman stirred. “Are you there?” she said in a voice that was barely a whisper. Her parchment hand moved on the sheet, reaching toward me but moving only an inch or so.
“Are you there?” she asked more urgently.
Feeling like a total fraud but not wanting her to make a fuss, I put my work-roughened hand over her fragile one. “I’m here,” I whispered.
Her clawlike hand grasped mine with surprising strength. “Otto!” she said. “You came at last. Just sit with me for a while. It’s been such a long time.”
I had no idea who Otto was, but I wasn’t about to correct her. I patted her hand with my other one and said, “I’m right here.”
“Thank God. I don’t want to die alone.”
Die? I looked at her in alarm. She did look like she could die any minute. Where her wispy, white hair was brushed aside I could see the pink skin on her scalp. Her ears were sunk back against her head, and the earlobes were shriveled. Her eyelids looked translucent, but she didn’t open her eyes. Which was just as well, because if she looked, she might see I wasn’t Otto.
Please don’t die while I’m here, I thought. I wouldn’t have any idea what to do.
“I’m so tired,” she said.
“Rest,” I told her.
“Don’t leave me.”
I might not be Otto, but I could stay for a little while if it comforted her. “I’m right here.”
A slight smile played on her lips, and her grip on my hand relaxed, retaining only a slight hold. I sat there and listened to what I could catch of the conversation on the other side of the curtain.
“Your dad says he’s gonna get them taken care of,” Black Rose was saying in her deep voice. “If he catches up with them before the cops do, they’re gonna wish they got
Most of the other people crowded around the nursing station, asking for room numbers and updates. I wasn’t about to go do that and give them a chance to remember me, so I glanced around.
The hallway ended abruptly a few hundred feet in one direction but stretched a long way in the other. Deciding to play the odds, I set off down the long portion, glancing in each room as I passed, looking to see if something would tell me which room was Kelly’s.
My luck held. I heard the clink of chains and sharp boot steps on the polished floor as I passed room 307. An elderly lady lay in the bed nearest the door, her eyes shut, but I could see Li’l Mama’s tight blue-jeaned derriere disappear behind the fabric curtain that separated the two beds.
The trick to sneaking in anywhere, I knew, was to act like being there was no big deal. Which in this case meant continuing confidently past the room while I considered what to do.
At the end of the hallway was a kind of lounge with a few people sitting there, some in wheelchairs. I turned around and headed back toward room 307. This time, I slipped into the room and pulled up a chair between the head of the old woman’s bed and the curtain, trusting the position and the subdued light to shield me from Kelly and her visitors.
The lights on this side of the room were dimmed. A gentle wheezing came from some kind of machine that had a tube leading to the patient’s nostrils. The person lying on the bed was an old, old woman, her head barely making a dent on the pillow, her eyes closed. Thank goodness she didn’t have any visitors. Until me.
I turned my head toward the woman in the bed so my face could not be seen from the doorway and listened to the conversation beyond the curtain.
One of the women was talking. That high pitched voice had to belong to Li’l Mama. “Your dad was thinking about coming up, but he decided to wait until you feel better. Or maybe get discharged. He hates hospitals. And he’s fit to be tied.”
Someone—Kelly?—murmured something, but I couldn’t make out the words. I leaned forward, straining to hear.
The old woman stirred. “Are you there?” she said in a voice that was barely a whisper. Her parchment hand moved on the sheet, reaching toward me but moving only an inch or so.
“Are you there?” she asked more urgently.
Feeling like a total fraud but not wanting her to make a fuss, I put my work-roughened hand over her fragile one. “I’m here,” I whispered.
Her clawlike hand grasped mine with surprising strength. “Otto!” she said. “You came at last. Just sit with me for a while. It’s been such a long time.”
I had no idea who Otto was, but I wasn’t about to correct her. I patted her hand with my other one and said, “I’m right here.”
“Thank God. I don’t want to die alone.”
Die? I looked at her in alarm. She did look like she could die any minute. Where her wispy, white hair was brushed aside I could see the pink skin on her scalp. Her ears were sunk back against her head, and the earlobes were shriveled. Her eyelids looked translucent, but she didn’t open her eyes. Which was just as well, because if she looked, she might see I wasn’t Otto.
Please don’t die while I’m here, I thought. I wouldn’t have any idea what to do.
“I’m so tired,” she said.
“Rest,” I told her.
“Don’t leave me.”
I might not be Otto, but I could stay for a little while if it comforted her. “I’m right here.”
A slight smile played on her lips, and her grip on my hand relaxed, retaining only a slight hold. I sat there and listened to what I could catch of the conversation on the other side of the curtain.
“Your dad says he’s gonna get them taken care of,” Black Rose was saying in her deep voice. “If he catches up with them before the cops do, they’re gonna wish they got
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