Divinity: The Gathering: Book One (14 page)

Rodney, the security guard sat at his usual post reading the paper with a cup of coffee and half eaten salmon bagel sitting on the small counter space in front of him. He was an older soft natured guy in his late fifties, and in some ways he reminded me of what my dad might hav
e looked like once his hair began to start graying.

“Hey there Rodney,” I waved as I passed him.

He crinkled the newspaper down and peered over it, instantly smiling, “Well hey there young lady, how have you been?” He asked.

I stopped to chat with him for a moment, “I’m good, how about you?” I asked with a smile and then stopped to politely converse with him for a moment.

He sat up with a playful grunt, “Can’t complain.” He winked.

I smiled, “Yeah, same here.” I replied.

“How’s school going?” He then asked.

“It’s going; I’m just trying to keep up.” I joked.

He laughed heartily, “You’re highly capable kiddo; you could teach that school a thing or two if you ask me.” He smiled.

I returned the smile, continuing on past him down the short corridor towards the front-desk area. The e
mployee lounge was located behind the main desk where Lenell usually sat.

Lenell was talking to a nurse who didn’t look familiar to me when I walked up to the main nurses’ station. In front of the nurse rested an extremely old, bony, tawny skinned black woman sitting in her wheelchair. She wore an orange sherbet colored plush robe and mismatch house slippers and socks. Her head, dotted with sparse white afro puffs, hung low with her chin practically touching her chest as if she were peacefully sleeping.

Lenell handed the nurse a clipboard and two white sample cups that I knew contained the woman’s meds. They both turned to look at me as I scanned my badge across the security plate to get into the employee entrance and came around to meet them. I was greeted with bright smiles—Lenell’s being the bigger of the two.

“There she is now looking so pretty as always. How are you doin' baby?” She asked. Lenell was a large framed black woman in her mid-forties. She always had a smile on her round face and wasted no time b
ecoming my surrogate grandmother when she took me under her wing to train when I had first started here. She was an attractive woman with an equally beautiful personality to match. No one could help but be put in a good mood around her because her spirit and her words were always positive and uplifting.

“One day at a time. I’m alright, how are you Ms. L
enell?” I returned the friendly smile and greeting and joining her behind the desk. I set my bag and purse down on the floor for now; I would put them up in my employee storage locker later.

“Yes, Lord, amen. I've been running a little ragged, but I am doing great. Thank you for coming in early at the last minute honey, I know I can always depend on you.” She gave me a warm, sincere hug. I was lost in the softness of her bosom, and I instantly felt co
mforted as if I were a small child.

“You’re welcome.” I gave her hand an endearing squeeze.

“This is Erin here; she’s filling in for Marsha, and she usually works the morning shift. Erin, this is my adopted grand baby Star,” She then introduced me to the nurse who was tending the tiny, frail woman in the wheelchair. Erin looked to be a middle-aged woman with yellow, blonde hair, gray eyes and soft laugh lines around her eyes and mouth, which added a friendly accent to her constant expression even when she wasn’t smiling. “Nice to meet you,” I smiled.

She smiled, “It’s nice finally meeting you too. You go to the University at Bloomington right? Lenell talks about you all the time.” Erin smiled and asked me.

I nodded.

“Smart one this one, she’s gifted and blessed.” Lenell added in, making me blush. “I’v
e heard. What are you majoring in sweetie?”  Erin asked.

I hesitated, “Literature and the arts for now.” I shrug
ged—never really sure how to answer that when people asked because I had no idea what I was going for any more.

“Oh wow, okay. Well, it’s good to meet you Star, thank you for coming in early and helping out.” Erin smiled again.

“No problem.” I replied.

Just then the woman in the wheelchair slowly rose her head up as if it were a painful act. She had either been awake after all or our small chit-chat had disturbed her. Hearing us talking, I supposed she was curious to see who I was. She was really old. Her light-brown face held a smattering of small, dark-brown freckles under her eyes, and her skin was a wrinkled grayish brown. Her mouth was a thin dry line and there were tiny patches of what used to be her eyebrows, sat like sparse white, quote marks over each of her drooping eyes. She looked at me for a moment, and then her eyes went wide in sort of a—surprise. Her thin mouth and her jaw began to move as if she were chewing or swishing water around in it. Lenell and Erin both looked at her and then at me in surprise of their own.

“Ms. Hawthorne, this is Star, she’s one of our best staff members, but she’s a volunteer in the evenings, which is why you don’t see her during the day.” Lenell spoke to the woman softly. The woman didn’t respond, and it seemed as if she didn’t even hear Lenell speak. I was getting a little creeped out myself, the way she kept looking at me, so I casually pretended to flip through a sheaf of papers just to have something to do other than stand there and be stared at like that.

“Ms. Hawthorne has been here for abo
ut week now. She doesn’t speak,” Lenell then whispered to me. I figured it had to have been recent, since I didn’t recall ever seeing her before today.

“She hasn’t spoken in over six years actually accor
ding to her chart. Relatives said something happened the year before, that essentially affected her mentally and since then she hasn’t uttered a word to anyone about anything.” Erin went on to say in a hushed tone.

I took it all to mean that Ms.
Hawthorne was more than likely hard of hearing since they had no problems speaking about her issues in front of her. As for reading lips, she may have just been trying to do that. I looked at the elderly woman for a moment after hearing that with curiosity. “What happened?” I asked softly feeling a bit guilty for talking about Ms. Hawthorne as if she hadn’t even been sitting right there.

Erin shrugged, “No one knows since she doesn’t talk. Her granddaughter thinks it may be some form of dementia or Al
zheimer’s even though those tests came back negative.” She whispered.

“Well, she’s due for her meds and a nap,” Lenell then said speaking to Erin.

“Right, see you around later Star.” Erin said to me.

“Okay,” I smiled.

Erin balanced the sample cups with meds on the clipboard and continued to wheel the old woman in the chair down the hall, making a left at the end of the corridor and disappearing.

“Well now that was a first for her, recognition like that. The way she looked at you— as if she knew you or something. Usually she only stares into space qu
ietly like she’s seeing something else we can’t.” Lenell then turned to me and said. I don’t know why I shivered involuntarily when she had said that. No, that wasn’t true…I knew exactly why I had that immediate reaction.

“She really hasn’t spoken a word in six years, to an
yone?” I then asked incredulously.

Lenell shook her head no slowly, “As far as I know. At least, that’s what I was told.” She replied.

“It must have been something really traumatic. What’s her illness?” I then whispered thinking back to the incident in Professor Phillips office.

“Probably, ain’t no telling although she does seem very paranoid and jumpy someti
mes when we leave her alone. She’s got pancreatic cancer and hasn’t taken too well to the side effects of the treatments. It’s terminal so we keep her on a steady dose of painkillers and nausea medication for now. I can’t even imagine the pain she’s endured, bless her soul.” She clucked her tongue and shook her head.

I nodded in sympathy for Ms. Hawthorne too. Thunder rumbled low and macabre like, in the di
stance, as a sudden reminder of the heavy coming rains outside.

“It’s supposed to be storming all evening, so I don’t wanna keep you too long,” Lenell then said pulling out some charts and going over something on the computer.

I rubbed her shoulder, “Yeah you and my roommate both. A little rain never hurt anyone.” I shook my head with a smirk.

Immediately, after that comment, lighting flashed and illuminated the entire set of windows along the back living area walls. It was like a large burst from a camera flash and thunder boomed loudly practically rattling the windows. Lenell squeaked, and we both jumped with a start. She put a hand to
her ample bosom and chuckled, “Lordy Jesus, boy I tell you no matter what age you are; thunder is still scary,” She said as we both laughed. It scared me too.

A young couple emerged with
one of the head social workers from one of the rooms to the right side of the corridor next to the front admissions' desk. They talked quietly among themselves while I began going over my to-do-list, once had I retrieved a supply cart from the supply room. Since I wasn’t a certified medical social worker or nurse, though I still wore the standard issued light pastel blue scrubs with the smiley sunshine faces and butterflies, my duties were limited.

I basically answered phones occasio
nally, filed paperwork, getting and stocking extra supplies like blankets, pillows and bedpans, preparing aromatherapy sessions and most often, sitting with a patient to keep them company or simply read to them. That was the part I really enjoyed and found meaningful no matter who it was, and I had many regular patients who requested that I come to visit them frequently. It was hard though at first, being with a person for so long, even if you knew their time was limited and then coming in one day to find that they were no longer living. Even so, I knew that at least I helped to make their last days or even moments, peaceful, and that they weren’t alone when it happened. Stocking was typically done first so

I began organizing, gathering and loading up all the supplies needed for each specific room according to the list on the portable push cart.

Thunder continued to crack both high and low, reaching crescendos that I could feel in my chest like the sharp treble and deep baseline to a heavy-duty hip-hop or rap tune. Random flashes lit up the corridor through the tall, ceiling to floor Victorian style, single-paned windows. Evening and the rain clouds made it appear super dark outside sooner than normal at only five p.m. Maybe that’s why what I saw caught my attention out of my periphery. Dark storm clouds typically blotted out the moon and stars…so what were those glittery sparkles streaking across the darkened sky in the distance? Fireworks? Comets?

              I stopped for a moment, cupping my hands on either side of my eyes to peer out and watch the distant, darkened sky a bit longer. Sure enough, several more shot downwards, some leaving arcs of long, fiery, reddish trails of sparkles behind that had to have been seen by the entire city.

It instantly made me think of something extraterre
strial, and then I thought of my dream last night. I continued to watch until there were no more. The sky remained just as dark as it had been until more cracks of lightning lit up the mass of blackness all around.

I finally blew it off supposing it was maybe the effects of the lightning electrocuting something and creating sparks or something but deep down, I think I knew better.

I started with the first room at the end of the hall and was just finishing up getting the last remaining toiletries off the cart when Erin scurried towards me from across the living area with a small note in her hand and a smile that held pleasant excitement on her face.

I wrinkled my brow and paused with a set of pillows under my arm, waiting for her to approach me.

“There you are,” She whispered once she reached me. Her face beamed.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“Do you remember what we told you about Ms. Hawthorne’s condition, about her not speaking a word for the last several years?” She went on with raised brows that wrinkled her forehead.

I nodded, “She spoke?” I asked with a half-smile.

“No, not quite but she wrote this,” She said as she opened up the piece of paper that she had in her hand.

I peered at it seeing the uneven, shaky scrawl written in black ink and trying to decipher it.

It said: ‘Plese have the girl star vist me.’

She had misspelled the word ‘Please’ and left the ‘I’ out of visit, but it was still a meaningful note that could be understood. I raised a brow and looked at Erin who smiled warmly.

“I think she means you.” She then said to me.

“Are you sure she means me?” I asked her.

“You’re the only Star here and given the way she looked at you earlier, I’m pretty sure,” Erin replied, “She’s never made an attempt to communicate in any way until today. She motioned for my clipboard when I got her settled into her bed, and it took me a moment to figure out what she wanted and a little longer for her to write this.” She went on to explain.

I was surprised myself.

Why would she want to see me?