A chill was swirlin’ through me like an ice storm. I couldn’t get the sight of Mrs. White or the sound of her demon gasp out of my mind, and her icy bird-claw seemed to still be clinging to my hand.
Ma parked me in the phone room and apologized all over the place for asking me to help. I told her it wasn’t her fault that Mrs. White held on for nine hundred years and decided to let go while she was holdin’ on to me. I tried acting like I was all recovered, but I was pretty wigged out and Ma knew it.
“Just stay in here,” she said, twitching with nerves. “Just stay in here and read your comic book.”
I warmed right up to that idea. And since we could hear clankin’ and bangin’ and Teddy C hollerin’ about needin’ his teeth, I told Ma, “Go on! I’m fine.”
After she left, I holed up with my comic book, and it did help. A lot. But out of the corner of my eye I could see Ma and Gloria working away, and after a while guilt started pangin’ through me. They were doin’ a nonstop hustle in and out of rooms, changin’ diapers, wiping up spills, delivering snacks, and fetching Teddy C’s teeth, which he kept hurlin’ across the room.
They also performed a magic trick when the medical folks were taking Mrs. White away. All they really did was talk to any oldie the stretcher needed to roll by, but it was like a hocus-pocus of smiles and words and gentle touches. I swear the oldies had no idea one of their own was dead and going, going, gone.
After that, Ma and the others started setting up for lunch, and that’s when the guilt pangs took over. Ma hadn’t sat down once the whole time, and here I was, lazin’ around reading comics?
So I went out and helped with lunch and then was busy the whole rest of the afternoon. I did some cleaning up, but mostly what Ma and Gloria wanted was for me to hang out with the oldies, starting with Ruby Hobbs. “If you could just sit and visit with her? She’s about to go tearful on us.”
Tearful I could take, as long as she didn’t go naked!
When I sat by her and said, “Hi, Ruby,” her weepy face dried right up and she started babbling about things that made no sense whatsoever. I tried to follow what she was saying, but she seemed to be stringing random words together and I didn’t have the decoder.
It must’ve made sense to her, though, ’cause she was smiling like she was telling a happy tale, and all I had to do was nod and say, “Wow,” or “Really?” to keep her going. When she was all tuckered out from talking, she closed her eyes right there in her chair and nodded off.
After Ruby, I asked Ma what else I could do, and she said, “Just make the rounds,” which meant going from one table to the next, playing cards or helping with a puzzle or just visiting. It was easy ’cause things seemed pretty much under control. At the moment, Tapping Paula was Napping Paula, Sir Robert was outside with Sweet-Pea Alice and Pom-Pom Pam, June and Linda were by the TV holding hands, and except for Teddy C—who was still fussin’ about his teeth—everyone else seemed to be doing okay.
All that changed when Teena cleared away Debbie Rucker’s snack dish.
“Bring it back!” Debbie shouted. “I said, bring it back! There’s a lot of flavor left in that bowl!”
She was talking about a plastic pudding bowl that looked pretty scraped out to me.
Teena said, “You’re done, Debbie,” and kept clearing dishes while Debbie got madder and madder.
“Did you hear me? Give it back!”
“You’re done, Debbie.”
“GIVE IT BACK!”
Teena ignored her, piled up the dishes, and left. But even though the dish was long gone, Debbie kept shouting, “GIVE IT BACK! GIVE IT BACK RIGHT NOW!”
Ma finally came out of one of the rooms with her blue sani-gloves on. “Is there any way you can get her to quit squalling?” she begged me.
So I went over to Debbie and said, “Hi.”
She was all red in the face, but she did change subjects. “What is your name?”
“Lincoln.”
“What is your last name?”
“Jones.”
“Lincoln Jones,” she said, taking a deep, choppy breath. “Can you please bring me a pudding? They took mine away before I was done.”
“They’re all gone. But we’re having Thanksgiving dinner really soon.”
“We are?”
“Yes, ma’am. I heard there’s turkey and mashed potatoes and stuffing….It’s going to be a feast.”
“Really?” Her red edges were fading fast. “What about pie?”
“I’m guessin’ pumpkin? Maybe apple?”
She let out a happy sigh, and her eyes got glassy. “Lincoln Jones?”
“Yes, ma’am?”
“Will you go for a walk with me?”
My eyes went shiftin’ around, but my mouth went, “Sure.”
She smiled and latched on to me as we headed for fresh air. “Lincoln Jones?”
“Yes, ma’am?”
“I like pumpkin pie.”
“Yes, ma’am. Me too.”
We walked a little further. “Lincoln Jones?”
“Yes, ma’am?”
“I love Thanksgiving.”
“Me too.”
Outside now, she looked up at the sky and took a deep breath. “Lincoln Jones?”
“Yes, ma’am?”
She smiled at me. She seemed so calm now. Like a different person. “I’m glad you’re here.”
I smiled back, and it was truly a wonder to feel the same.