Standing outside in the hall, staring at the door he'd passed through a million times before, Boris couldn't help but feel...odd. Father Krickett stood right beside him, hand on his shoulder, grind on his face. Boris turned and looked at the priest - his diamond blue eyes and his ruffly blonde hair - and wanted to feel something, but he couldn't. He didn't know what to feel. All this time he'd waited for this moment, for his daughter to wake back up, and yet here that very moment was and he wasn't sure how to broach it.
"Just go in," Krickett said, "I'm sure she'll be glad to see you." "I just...I feel so awkward," Boris replied, "It's been so long. She's been in a coma for...for so long now." "I know, but think of it as a new beginning," Krickett said, "Everything will be fresh and-" The door opened, and a nurse walked out. She stopped and looked at the two men as she held the bedpan in her hands. After a moment she cleared her throat and spoke. "Are you the father?" she asked. "Yes," they both replied. "No, the father of the girl, not a...nevermind," the nurse said, making them chuckle as she continued, "Um, she's awake, but...well, you should walk with me a ways and let me explain the situation." Boris and Krickett followed the nurse, whose nametag read 'Jenny', down the hall as she took the bedpan to the bathroom. "She's fine, right?" Boris asked, "I mean, there weren't any other complications were there?" "No, she's perfectly fine, physically. She's going to require a few months of physical therapy to relearn how to walk, but otherwise she'll good as new. The issue isn't her body. The issue is her mind," Nurse Jenny said. "How so?" Krickett asked, putting his hands in his coat pockets. "Well, the coma has left her rather...scattered. This is normal, it happens to many people who awaken from comas. They don't really remember things from before. A lot of times they get their memory back, but...sometimes they don't ever regain it. Right now she's very coherent, she's very with it, and that's a good sign, it means her brain activity is normal. But she doesn't seem to remember her family," Nurse Jenny said, dumping the bedpan in a toilet and then turning to the men as she leaned against the stall wall. "What...what do you mean she doesn't...you mean she doesn't know who her mother and I are?" Boris asked, "Is that...is that what you're telling me?" "Again, sir, it's common," Nurse Jenny replied, waving a hand and trying to quell his upset, "And a lot of times, hell likely most of the time, their memory returns over time. So you have nothing really to worry about, because she'll probably be okay, but you should prepare just for the off chance that she doesn't. Trying to form a family with someone who doesn't know they're family with you is tough for most people, and often times they rarely get back to the state of family they'd once had." "So, what...what do I do?" Boris asked as they began to exit the bathroom. "Honestly, my professional medical advice? Just listen. Be there. That's all you really can do," Nurse Jenny said, "I have to get back and empty more bedpans. You fellas need any help, there's other nurses around." With that she turned and headed down the hall, leaving Boris and Krickett standing there together, surprised. Boris looked at Krickett, who scratched his forehead and exhaled, pushing up his glasses with his other hand. "So..." Krickett said, "Should we go in?" *** Polly was lying in her bed, staring at the ceiling, when her door opened and Carol was standing there. Carol glanced in and looked around, and - upon noticing the completed hot tub - smiled as she looked back at Polly. "It looks good, she did a good job!" Carol said, "Have you seen Boris?" "Not since yesterday," Polly said, "...why did you send her here?" "What?" "That woman, the one who installed my hot tub, why did you send her here?" Polly asked, not looking at Carol, still not even sitting up from the bed. Carol tapped her nails on the side of the door and sucked on her tongue, thinking. "I guess because I wanted you to feel like you mattered too," Carol said, "That you were our friend, and I figured it'd make you feel better to be around a pretty young woman. Make you not feel so...old." "...do you ever think you might fall in love again, Carol?" Polly asked, her genuineness catching Carol by surprise. "I...I mean, anything is possible, I suppose, but-" "You and Boris seem friendly enough." "Boris?! Please, hah, that's a riot, dear. No, Boris is nothing but a curmudgeonly amusement," Carol said, "He's a nice guy, he's entertaining, but he's not my type in the slightest. I won't lie and say I don't feel anything for him, because I do, but it's...familial, you know what I mean? Boris makes me feel like I haven't lost everyone in my family, in my life, because he makes me feel like a family member." Polly nodded and smirked a bit. "Yeah, I guess I understand that," she said. "Well, if you happen to see that sack of family garbage, point him my way," Carol said, as she exited, pulling Polly's door shut behind her. Polly finally sat up and looked at the hot tub. Had having that young woman around made Polly feel better about herself? That she wasn't sure of, but what she was sure of was that Carol was right, and she felt like she finally belonged to their group, and that Boris especially felt comforting, like a family member you just liked to be around. Still...she couldn't help but feel like something else was missing in her life, something she'd once had and now longed for yet again. Something like love. And here she was, at the end of her life - presumably - with so much love to give. And no woman to give it to. The thought just made her want to drink. *** Boris and Father Krickett entered the room and Ellen smiled at them as they strolled inside. As Boris sat in a chair by the bed, and Krickett stood by the window, Ellen watched them closely, as if she didn't trust them, let alone know them. Boris ran his hands down his tweed coat and adjusted the cap on his head. "Um, it's been a while," Boris said. "That's what they tell me," Ellen replied, making Boris chuckle as she added, "I'm...I'm sorry, I don't know you. They say you're my father, but I just...I don't really remember much of anything." "That's perfectly normal. Your memory will likely return the longer you're awake, especially with the aide of therapy," Father Krickett said, "Your mother should be along shortly, she was stopping by the restroom when we entered, so." "And you are?" Ellen asked, turning to Krickett, "A priest?" "I am indeed a priest, yes, but I am also a friend of your fathers," Krickett replied, "Do you remember why you wound up in a coma? Have they at least informed you of anything in regards to that?" "I remember I was having a surgery, but...otherwise, not really, sorry," Ellen said, looking ashamed. "Sweetheart, don't be glum about it, it's...these things happen, it'll take time but you'll come back to it," Boris said, making her smile. The door opened and Lorraine entered, pushing something into her purse and apologizing for taking so long before putting her arms around Ellen and squeezing her tight. As the hug ended, Boris found himself getting up and ushering Lorraine out of the room, back into the hospital hallway. "What is it?" Lorraine asked, as he shut the door behind them. "She doesn't remember us," Boris said, "The coma has given her amnesia. Now, they tell me that if we just work with her, get her into therapy, then perhaps we can help her restore it, but for the time being, she doesn't really know who we are." "I bet you're happy about that, aren't you?" Lorraine asked, surprising him. "The hell's that supposed to mean?" Boris asked, his voice growling. "Oh please, come off it, you've always wanted a second chance. After all, isn't that what the whole business with that school girl you're housing all about? Aren't you just really substituting her for your own failures and shortcomings as a father?" "How dare you!" Boris replied, snarling now, "I'm doing that because that girl deserves a better home life than the one she had! Every child does!" "Please, you're simply alleviating yourself of any guilt or responsibility," Lorraine said, "And I understand, Boris, I really do, because, god knows...it isn't easy to live with the things that have happened to us as a family unit. But at least don't try and pretend that isn't what you're doing, that's more shameful than doing it to begin with." "You don't know anything about me," Boris said, his voice growing quieter, but angrier, "You live in your fancy condo and I subjected myself to living in a nursing home so I could maybe learn to understand how to be friends with people. But you just...you stayed the same while I adapted and grew. You stayed stagnant, and now you're saying I'm the one being selfish?" "Not selfish, no," Lorraine said, "God, no, um...I don't know what the word is, but I understand why you're doing this. You want to rebuild your relationship with Ellen, but an Ellen who doesn't remember the accident, who doesn't remember you caused it, who doesn't hold any grudge against you for the loss of her legs. And I understand why you'd do that, I really truly do, but-" "You're unbelievable," Boris said, as the door opened and Krickett stepped out. "Are we okay out here?" he asked. "Ask Miss High & Mighty," Boris said, waving his hand at his wife. "Mrs. High & Mighty, is it?" Krickett said, turning to face her, "Mr. High & Mighty here seems to think there's a problem." Lorraine smirked at Krickett's attempt at humor and sighed. "He's completely impossible to talk to, always has been, always states nobody understands who he is or how he really feels or thinks," Lorraine said, "All I was saying was I understand if he's happy about Ellen's memory being wiped, because he gets a fresh start now, a clean slate, to build something new with her. Something not so tainted by her anger towards him for her disability." "I didn't cause the accident because I was mad at her about Soccer practice," Boris said, turning and pointing at Lorraine, "I was never mad at her, I understood why she felt the way she did, hell, I was never big into team sports myself and it wasn't until living in the home that I finally learned how to cooperate with others and be friends with people! No, I was never mad at her. I was mad at YOU. You pushed her into playing team sports when she so clearly didn't want to, and I was distracted because she...she sounded so much like you that it...it threw me, and I snapped, and I wasn't paying attention to the road." Lorraine stared at him. "What...what are you saying?" Lorraine asked. "I'm saying you are a bad person, and a bad mother, and a bad wife," Boris snarled, "That you pushed her to be interested in things she was never interested in, and then punished her when she wouldn't comply, and you pushed me to be just like you even though I'm nothing like you. She didn't have parents, she had hostage negotiators, and frankly, maybe you're right...maybe I am glad she doesn't remember us, but certainly not for my sake. For hers. She shouldn't have to remember people who made her youth so painful." Boris turned and started to storm off down the hall, as Krickett started after him. "Boris, maybe just come back and-" "Leave me alone!" he shouted, tearing away from the priest and heading through the doors into the stairwell. Only one person could understand how he felt, and he had to see her. *** Polly was seated in her hot tub, in an old one piece swimsuit she'd had for years. As she leaned against the bubble jets and felt them relieve tension in her lower back, she lifted the cigar to her lips and inhaled. She blew the smoke out and then lifted the small cup of scotch to her lips and sipped, just as the door opened and Boris stumbled inside. "Hello there," she said. "...let's get drunk," Boris said. "Waaaay ahead of you, pal," Polly said, lifting her glass. Boris snatched the bottle from the side of the hot tub and drank some, then wiped his lips on his arm and looked at her. "People are...shit," Boris said, "Just utter shit. You think you're on the right path, you think you're becoming a better more understanding person, and what do they do to you? They hit you so hard that you fall off said path and go back to the bad person you used to be. The bad person you worked so hard to stop being. People are garbage." "Amen to that," Polly said, taking another puff, "It just seems like being the worst version of yourself is so much more fun, and easy, considering that's what everyone wants us to be." "Then let's be the worst versions of ourselves," Boris said. "What are you thinking?" "I'm thinking we get in your car," Boris said, climbing into the hot tub still in his clothes and looking down at her, "And we drive to a casino, and we gamble until we're flat broke, and we take all sorts of pills. You still got pills, right?" "Got all kinds, pal," Polly said. "Good," Boris said, "Let's get fucked up."
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
About
Golden Years follows the exploits of a bunch of old people in a retirement home as they try to have fun, relax or come to terms with the soon to be end of their lives. Archives
April 2024
|