Billy waited for his grandma to finish in the bathroom. It dragged on so long every time he wondered if she took off her clothes. Her cracked rib didn’t seem to bother her anymore, so at least there was that, but she was less steady on her feet now. There was no hurrying her, so he stepped into the hallway, wobbling a little, his leg gone numb from being under his butt throughout all forty-eight pieces of the basket of kittens puzzle. It was strangely quiet, no residents in sight. Either the speakers were on the fritz again or no one had bothered to turn on the hallway music.
Billy peered into the empty room next door. Rachel’s mom was gone, which meant Rachel was gone too. The poor old lady croaked while he was at canoe camp, and he didn’t know if it caused a big scene or if the stretcher guys quietly whisked her away in the middle of the night. He was relieved he didn’t have to hear or see or smell any of it, although the place seemed empty without Rachel sitting on the other side of his grandma’s wall in her glowing tights. He missed her. She talked to him like he wasn’t a bonehead kid, like he’d earned the right to hear whatever she had going on. Hummingbirds can fly backwards. Life is just a stack of years. No one can lie like a mother. Menopause was a bitch. She’d told him to floss daily so when his hair was gone he’d still have teeth. To never let someone borrow his car, his shoes, or his woman.
He wished he could talk to Sarah, but it had been days without her, and the whole place felt grey. He missed her springy steps as she popped in and out of rooms. Missed hearing her happy out-of-breath laugh. Missed joking with her over sandwiches at the rickety picnic table.
Nick gave him the whole Sarah-getting-booted story the day after it happened. He was so pissed during the telling that his face went from red to more red, sparks popping round his heated head like in a comic.
Billy backed away to a safe distance as Nick stomped around. He’d picked up the details on his own already. It was all the staff talked about. They were on Sarah’s side and didn’t believe it could be her. Who could? It was the stupidest thing he had ever heard.
Dorothy thought she was in charge, but she was wrong. She had no clue that Sarah was the one who could get Violet to wear shoes or get Ruth to take her pills. It was Sarah they called on when Clement refused to shower because he said the water smelled like piss. There were these little covert operations taking place, like a hidden grid of communications lines. With Sarah gone, the wires got crossed and everything went haywire. He hated Dorothy. She made him want to puke. And while it wasn’t brave or nearly enough, he turned his back to her in protest whenever she thundered down the hallway.
He stepped back into Evie’s room, but her bathroom door was still closed. He put his ear in the door crack and listened for a flush, but it was dead quiet in there, so he knocked lightly. “You alright, Grandma?”
“I’ll be out in a minute, Billy.” She sounded annoyed, like he was interrupting an important business meeting. Then she added more generously, “Go ahead and make yourself a snack.”
His phone blared in his pocket, causing him to crack his forehead against the door, and he scrambled backwards into the hallway before he could make it stop.
“Want to ride to Ghost Lake?” Leo yelled into his ear.
Billy smiled. Leo was a dork, but it wasn’t awful being around him. They’d laughed so hard trying to right their canoe during capsize training that the instructor made them do it again. Twice more, in fact, until their arms screamed, and their mouths stayed shut.
“Where’s Ghost Lake?” Billy asked.
“Edge of town. It’s not a lake. Just what we call it. More like a slough.”
“I’m with Grandma.”
“Yeah, I know. I’m with Ben. When you’re done. We’ll wait.”
“Where are you guys?”
“At the front door.”
He met them in the lobby of the independent side. They stuck out like trash cans beside the potted plants and plush chairs and the mahogany front desk where no one sat anymore. Lewis Clifton’s office was empty too, since no one wanted the manager job, which meant he could slip them in without signing the book or having to invent reasons for their visit. They looked like they lived under a bridge, hair slick with sweat, Ben’s T-shirt ripped under the arm pit, Leo’s glasses cloudy and splattered.
Leo solemnly held out his hand and placed a dead fly in Billy’s palm. “I found this and thought of you.”
“Gross,” Billy said, dropping it to the floor. His friends were barbarians.
“So can we see where you work?” Ben said. “You know, with the . . .” He stuck his tongue out and twirled his finger around his ear.
“They’re not crazy,” Billy said hotly. “They have dementia. What’s your excuse?”
“Sorry.” Ben grinned manically.
“I’ll let you in, but you gotta act decent. No horseshit.”
Leo sucked his lips into his cheeks and crossed his heart and the pair followed dutifully. Billy turned and glared at them before he swiped the fob. He remembered his first time. The vacant stares, the blaring alarm, the pungent smell of diapers. Leo and Ben huddled together, eyes wide, the door clicking shut behind them, locking them in with the others. The hallway was empty, but they could hear Edith yell, “Help me, help me,” from her room up ahead. Edith yelled, Help me, help me, no matter what she was doing—eating ice cream, painting a sunset in art class.
“Holy shit,” Leo said. Evie’s mural was right there. “You painted this?”
“Grandma helped.” If Leo turned around, he would have seen the flower shop too.
Leo got up close to the cattails, scrunching his eyes, then backed up to take it in, crashing into Ben, who had one hand under his chin, scrutinizing the wall like an art critic.
Ben whistled. “This is really good, man. Really good. How did you get up in the clouds?”
“A ladder.” Billy swelled inside. Leo and Ben were seeing the piece of him he found hard to explain.
“I’ll let Grandma know I’m heading out.”
The three turned to duck into her room, stopping first to examine the flower shop door they’d just walked through.
“Sick,” Leo said. “It doesn’t even look like a door.”
Ben took a selfie pretending to smell a flower.
When they entered Evie’s room, they found her sitting on her bed.
Her eyes lit up. “Oh Billy. How nice to see you.” She’d forgotten they’d just done the kittens puzzle.
“I want you to meet my friends.” Billy dragged them towards her. They stood in an awkward semicircle in front of her bed. Evie looked frightened of Ben, as would anyone in their right mind. He towered over her and smelled like a gorilla.
“How do you do,” Ben squeaked, suddenly tongue-tied.
Leo jumped in, thin and knobby, all manners and couth. “We’re pleased to meet you, ma-am. We love what you painted on the wall. We’ve never seen anything like it.” He sounded so choirboy chirpy, Billy rolled his eyes.
Evie blinked, surveying the room. Her paintings were everywhere. “It’s nice to have a bit of colour.”
Billy wondered if she was thinking, What place is this? Where am I? She still looked dubious of Ben, who was nervously rocking on his heels like a pendulum. Billy thought it best to get them out of there.
“We’re going to go now, Grandma. I’ll come see you later, okay?”
“Be sure to pick up the eggs, Billy. And be careful. You don’t want them to break.”
He kissed her on the cheek, and whacked Ben on the back to get him moving.
Billy led them down the hallway to show them the train mural. He didn’t need their praise, but a little more wouldn’t hurt. As they passed Edith’s room, Leo whispered, “Maybe we should go help her?”
“Edith’s okay, I promise. Help me are her favourite words.”
“Your life is weird,” Leo said.
“Likewise,” Billy said.
They stood in front of the train. He felt small when he stared at it; the reflection in the metal of the wheels, the rust-coloured rumbling, the white-foam clouds.
“That’s sick, man,” Leo said. “It looks so real.”
“Like it’s actually moving down the tracks.” Ben made his mouth do a train whistle, which sounded like a canary with tonsillitis.
“Harvey is a train man. That guy over there. He used to be a train engineer.”
“Is that still a job?” Ben said. “I think it’s all automatic now. Like dishwashers. You press a couple of buttons and you’re done.”
Sometimes it was just best to ignore the crap that came out of Ben’s brain. “We’re going to do one more. That one.” He pointed to the wall adjacent to the nurses’ station. “But I haven’t figured out the idea yet.”
Ben scrunched his great hairy brows. “What about dragons. Fire breathing. Big scales.”
Billy sighed.
“How about a canoe?” Leo piped in. “Two canoes. A canoe race. We could stage it.” He clapped his hands in a eureka moment. “You can take a photo of Ben and me. We’ll be your subjects. I’ll be in the canoe at the front, Ben dragging behind.”
Ben hip-checked Leo, banging him into the train.
“What?” Leo threw up his arms innocently. “I’m just stating the obvious. You’re useless in a canoe.”
Billy ignored them, seeing the new wall come to life in his head. Leo’s idea could work. Not canoes, but a rowboat. Oars dipped into still water, turquoise and robin-egg blue. Green lily pads scattered around. An older couple in the boat gazing across at each other. The lady could be holding flowers. No, not flowers, a picnic basket with a handle, the weaves in the wood a maple-sugar brown. He would run the idea by Nick, see what they could come up with. Nick had a good eye. Not as good as Evie, but better than these two idiots. Ben now had Leo in a headlock, his glasses skewed sideways, Leo thumping him on the chest with his scrawny arm. They were making too much racket.
“Cut it out,” Billy hissed, getting between them. When he looked up, Rachel was striding down the hall, all sparkle and bling. He was so happy to see her he laughed.
“Just here to drop off my fob,” she said as she got close. “Got a buyer for the house if you can believe it. They’re going to tear down that shitbox and put up an infill. Good riddance.” She examined him from head to toe. “You don’t look too soggy. So you didn’t drown at canoe camp?”
“We didn’t drown. These are my friends, Leo and Ben.” He wished they’d quit panting. She didn’t look as put together as usual, puffy, red-rimmed eyes, no earrings, no lipstick or eyeshadow. “This is Rachel. She bought the paint.”
Leo and Ben dropped their arms and stood, mumbling incoherently.
She ignored them. “Have you seen Sarah? I’ve been in and out of all the rooms. I’ve got something to give her.”
So Rachel hadn’t heard. “Sarah doesn’t work here anymore.”
“That can’t be. She loves these people. And she needed this job, I know she did.”
“She got fired.”
Rachel’s hand flew to her chest. “Fired? Why on Earth?”
He was glad he was the one to tell her. He expected her to be fiery mad. Expected her to march into Dorothy’s office and raise holy hell.
“Dorothy accused her of being the thief. She thinks Sarah’s the one who’s been stealing everybody’s stuff.”
Rachel stepped back, a wild look in her eyes.
“Dorothy got it wrong,” he said hotly. “Sarah is innocent. Everybody thinks so.” He dared anyone to say different. Instead of breathing fire, Rachel slumped against the train wall and clutched her chest.
Billy had no clue what to do or say. He’d never seen her like this. Ben and Leo shuffled on their feet like they were standing in hot water.
“Rachel?” He worried this might be a heart attack. Her chest heaved in and out, her face turning sidewalk grey. “Do you want to sit down? She grabbed onto a piece of his shirt and clung on. He didn’t know CPR. He didn’t know shit. “I’m going to get one of the staff,” he squeaked. He gently pulled away from her, his shirt knotted where her fist had just been. She shook her head no, eyes fluttering.
“Rachel, what do you—” but she was stumbling away, clinging to the wall for support like an old woman. She turned once and said, “Tell Sarah I’m sorry,” sounding desperate and truly bonkers.
They followed her at a distance until she disappeared into her mother’s empty room.
“Man, that was weird,” Leo said, after they’d fobbed out and gulped in the fresh air. “This place is like a soap opera.”
“That’s dementia, man,” Ben said, shaking his head as if he’d spent a lifetime studying the subject.
“Rachel’s not a resident.”
“She’s not?” Ben said dumbly. “She didn’t look all there to me.”
Billy felt sick. “Shut up, Ben. Her mom just died. Cut her some slack, will you.”
Rachel ate at him for the rest of the afternoon. Later, as Leo and Ben waded into the slough for God knows what, he sat on a rock and stared at the ground.
“There’s something wrong with Rachel,” he mumbled to Nick that night. They were sprawled on the couch watching another nature special, a mother elephant trying to push her baby out of a mud hole with her trunk, the other elephants along the edge trumpeting her along.
“I think she’s having a breakdown or something,” he added, stuffing his mouth with more popcorn.
Nick turned and squinted at him like he’d grown an extra head. “What are you talking about?”
“Rachel’s off. You were right.”
Nick muted the TV. “I never said that.”
“Yeah, you did. Maybe not those exact words. But I know you think she’s weird.”
“Weird doesn’t really do the feeling justice.”
Now there were three elephants in the mud hole, but the baby kept sliding down in the muck. It was a couple of feet to safety, but the incline was too steep for her.
“So, what happened?” Nick sounded annoyed.
“Ben and Leo picked me up at Prairie View this afternoon. I was showing them the murals and Rachel showed up.”
“Rachel’s mom died last week. What was she doing there?”
“She was looking for Sarah, and when I told her she got fired, she went nuts. I mean really nuts.”
Nick leaned back and thoughtfully threw a piece of popcorn into his mouth. “Sounds like she cares about Sarah. Doesn’t sound unreasonable to me.”
Billy felt his cheeks burn. “I never even told Rachel I was sorry that her mom died.”
“Well, you didn’t have a chance. You were at canoe camp when it happened.”
“But I could have said something today. I just stood there like an idiot.”
“Don’t get bent out of shape. It’s hard to know—”
“And I coulda told her how to find Sarah. Rachel had something to give her, and I didn’t say anything. It’s like I just froze. She’s done all this great stuff—buying the paint and my helmet and hamburgers. Her neighbours are dicks and now her mom is dead. What are you supposed to say to someone when their mom dies?”
Nick sighed. “I don’t know. I guess you tell them you’re sorry. Tell them you care.”
“I didn’t say any of that.”
“You don’t just get one chance to tell someone how you feel.”
“But she’s done with Prairie View now. I might never see her again.”
Nick sucked air through his teeth. “There is that.”
Billy perked up. “But I know where she lives.”
Nick tilted his head, eying him with suspicion. “How do you know that?”
“We’ve driven by her place. It’s a dump. She used to live there when she was a kid, and she came back to be with her mom.”
“You mean she’s taken you in her car? The two of you? Outside of Prairie View?”
Nick could be dense. He was missing the whole point. “She came back because she’s a good person. She sat with her mom until the end because that’s what good people do.”
Nick clenched and unclenched his fists. Billy stared at a piece of popcorn on the floor and waited for something to happen. When it didn’t, he said, “What’s wrong with you?”
“Yeah, okay,” Nick said, a little less stunned. “So, if you know where Rachel lives maybe you could drop off a card.”
“You think?” Billy chewed on the idea. Rachel’s house was sold, but she couldn’t have moved out already. “And what about flowers?” he blurted. “Flowers would be appropriate, right?” He imagined knocking on her rattletrap door, a bouquet in his hand.
Nick smiled and reached into his pocket, pulled out some twenties, and handed them over. “Get Rachel something nice. Then she’ll know you’re thinking about her.”
They stared at the silent TV, both gnawing their lips. He could feel the heat radiating around their bodies. But then out of the blue Nick said, “Billy, you don’t have to paint more walls, if you don’t want to. The place looks great and I’m proud of you. If you’ve got other stuff to do, that’s okay.” Billy was confused by Nick’s sudden softness. “You can hang out with your friends, hang out here if you want. Maybe spend a little less time at Prairie View. What about it?”
Billy nodded, not sure why. The elephants finally managed to hoist the baby out of the water by getting their trunks under her legs and pushing from behind. It took the whole family to get her up on the bank and not one stomped on her head.