Blackout (22 page)

In the hall, she passed residents making their way to the dining room where they would wait for their evening meal. She stepped around a medication cart. The aide carefully locked it before going into a resident’s room, a small tray with medicine on it in her hand. A laundry aide wearily pushed a cart toward the laundry room, brushing her hair away from her sweating forehead. Alice smiled and nodded at her.

The reception area was deserted. As Alice approached Betty’s office, she could hear voices.

Donald said, “You really don’t think Alice had anything to do with these events, do you?”

Alice stopped a moment, stunned, then crept closer to the doorway.

“I don’t know what to think anymore, Donald. It’s quite a coincidence she started working here the day of the first event, as you call it.”

“You have no proof any of those women were attacked.”

“I know what I know, damn it.” The sound of a hand hitting the desk made Alice flinch. “All three positioned exactly alike, and one paralyzed, so someone had to put her arms like that. And I saw Ma the same way. That’s four. Donald, you don’t want to believe it. But my gut, my heart, and my brain all tell me it’s true.” Her voice sounded anguished, and Alice put her hand over her mouth to stop herself from making a sound.

“But why would you think Alice—”

“Lots of reasons. What do we know about her? Her background? What she says she remembers isn’t very savory. Her father killed her grandmother? Like father, like daughter? She says she has amnesia, but we can’t prove that. And even if she does, it’s probably hysterical, so that means she’s unstable. Oh, Donald, you’re half in love with her, aren’t you?”

Alice felt her knees begin to buckle, and she had to put her hand against the wall to keep from falling.

Donald mumbled something Alice couldn’t hear. Then he said, “She couldn’t have attacked Lettie. I was with her the whole time after we got here until you found out about her.”

“The whole time?”

“Well, she did go to the ladies’ while I talked to Josh.”

“For how long?”

“I don’t remember. Ten to fifteen minutes at the most.”

“That’s all it would take.”

“Really, Betty, I don’t think—”

“Donald, I’m not saying she did it. I’m saying it’s a possibility, and we need to watch her closely. For everyone’s sake, hers included. I don’t want to believe it. I don’t even want to think it. I like Alice. I really do. But, you know me. I’m a realist, unlike you, with your head in the clouds lots of times. Since you’re so close to her, I want you to keep an eye on her, that’s all.”

“Don’t you have anyone else you suspect?”

“Sure, I do. Hell, Donald, it could be you.”

“What?” He laughed a strangled laugh. “You don’t really think—”

“No, I don’t. Not really. But at this point I’m not sure of anything. Anything except someone is murdering my residents. Maxwell believes me, and Jared half believes me. No one else does. Oh, except Ma, of course. Ma! I’d better go see her again before I leave.” Betty’s chair squeaked.

Alice turned and practically ran through the reception area and down the hall back toward Activities. As she passed the sitting room for the residents, she saw it was empty, so she ducked inside.

Gratefully, she sank into a chair and put her head in her hands.

What Betty thought of her was monstrous, unbelievable. She’d poured her heart out to her, and now Betty thought her capable of murder. How could she face her, stay in her house, come to work here?

Couldn’t Betty see Alice could never hurt any one of these people? Especially Lettie. They were like her grandmother. She’d loved her grandmother, hadn’t she? She must have. She’d been so upset when her father killed Nana.

But Nana had done something terrible, something so bad Alice didn’t want to remember it.
Is it possible, then, that I’m hurting these old people without remembering? If I have amnesia, could I be doing things now I don’t remember later?

Alice shuddered. She stared at the fireplace without seeing it and tried to recall if she’d done anything to those three women.

She didn’t remember anything, but did that mean she hadn’t done something?

She felt so confused. She needed to talk to someone about it, but there was no one she could trust anymore. Only Donald, Betty, and Betty Senior knew her secret about the amnesia. She didn’t dare discuss it with any of them now. Where was her father? He was the only one she could talk to.

Betty and Donald found her sitting there, unaware they’d entered the room until Donald said her name.

She gave a start and recoiled from them, pushing her back into the chair as hard as she could.

“Did you find my daddy?” she asked, her voice barely audible. “Do you know where my daddy is? I need him. I need him now.”

Donald took Alice’s arm and helped her out of the chair. She forced herself not to pull away. Betty’s face showed only concern, but Alice could no longer trust her own impressions. Donald’s expression was blank.
He doesn’t want me to know what he’s thinking,
she realized.
I need to learn how to do that. And how to keep quiet about my past. How could they both believe for one minute I’d murder old women? Why? Why would I?
She wanted her mind to stop torturing her. She felt so tired suddenly.

She allowed herself to be taken to Betty’s car. She’d do what they wanted her to and then when she was alone in her bedroom, she’d try really hard to remember more. But she wouldn’t tell them anything again.

“I have to stay late,” Donald said. “Have some work to finish up.”

“See you later, then.” Betty started the car. She pulled out of the parking lot and said, “I want you to know Jerod’s really working hard to locate your father. As soon as he finds out anything, he’ll get in touch with me.”

Alice wondered if they’d ever find him. Nothing seemed to be going right.

“Now, I’ve got to figure out what to feed you tonight. I served everyone that chicken casserole I’d made for the church potluck. I don’t have anything else hidden away in the freezer except some single frozen dinners. I suppose we could have a pizza delivered. Do you like pizza? Of course, I guess you would. All young people do. Well, here we are.” She pulled into the driveway with a sigh Alice didn’t think she realized she’d made.

“Pizza would be fine,” Alice said as she got out of the car. “I need to go wash up.”

“Go ahead. I’ll order the pizza.”

Alice went to the guest bedroom, and reaching underneath the bed, she grabbed the drawings she’d made and took them to the bathroom. If they were going to cause so much trouble, she didn’t want them around anymore.

Slowly, deliberately, she tore the one of the farmhouse in half, and in half again. When only tiny pieces were in her hands, she began putting them into the toilet. Sadness overcame her as she watched the bits whirl away. She wondered if she’d ever remember everything. After she flushed the third time, she suddenly realized Betty might hear her and wonder what she was doing, so she left the rest on the counter top to do later. After quickly brushing her hair, she went to the kitchen to find Betty.

“I called,” Betty said. “Hope you like pepperoni. And strawberry ice cream for dessert.”

“That’ll be fine,” Alice replied.

Betty finished putting out plates and napkins, and they sat down at the table.

“Did you remember more?” Betty asked gently.

“No.”

“Then what happened…”

“Nothing. Well…” Alice thought quickly. “Nancy slapped me, and I thought I remembered something.”

“Joyce came and told me about that. It will be taken care of. But you didn’t remember any more?”

“No.”

Betty stood up and began wiping an already clean counter with a sponge.

Does she really think I murdered those women,
Alice wondered.
She seems so nervous. I’ve never seen her so jumpy before.

The doorbell sounded, saving them both from the awkwardness that had come over them.

While they ate, Betty asked Alice to tell her about the incident with Nancy in the ladies’ room. Alice tried to make light of it, but she could still feel the sting of the slap on her cheek. And as she retold the story, she began to sense it hadn’t been the first time someone had hit her in the face. She put her hand on the spot and tried to remember. Nothing.

She helped Betty do up the few dishes. “Do you want to visit Hannah tonight?” Betty asked as she put away the last glass.

Alice really didn’t, but thought it was expected of her. She nodded at Betty. “Let me change my blouse. I got tomato sauce on it.”

“Sure,” Betty said. “You go ahead.”

In the bathroom, Alice changed her blouse. She flushed the rest of the tiny pieces, then tore the picture of her father and grandparents in half. As she did so, she felt suddenly dizzy, and she gasped. “What’s wrong with me?” she whispered as she made her way to the bed, the sketch still in her hands. She put the two edges together again on the bed. Somehow she knew what she’d drawn was accurate and true. And the grief she felt was not for her grandmother, but for her father. Why? Her grandmother must be dead, must have died horribly. Alice’s hand went to her cheek.

She felt a sudden slap again. Her grandmother’s face, contorted with rage, mouth wide, screaming. Yelling at Allison. “Can’t you do anything right, girl? You call this clean?” Her grandmother picked up the dish Alice had washed and pointed to a piece of white rice, hard to see on the white dish.

Hot tears streamed down Alice’s hand as a knock sounded on her door.

“Ready, Alice?” Betty asked.

Alice jumped up and threw the two pieces of the drawing into the nightstand drawer.

“I’ll be right there.” Quickly, she washed her face with a cold wet washcloth.

On the way to Sacramento, Betty asked Alice about her day in the activity department.

“I really liked it,” Alice said. “Yolanda’s nice.”

Betty nodded, and they remained silent for the rest of the ride.

They visited Hannah first. She was obviously glad to see them. “It’s like being a prisoner, only worse! I can’t even get up and move around.”

The word prisoner echoed in Alice’s mind. An image of her grandmother came again. This time she whispered, “Your daddy’s coming home tomorrow. You’re old enough now to know the truth.” Nana paused and studied Allison’s face a moment. Allison tried to show no expression while her heart hammered painfully in her chest. She knew she was about to be told something that had been kept from her since she was little and her daddy went away. And she was scared.

“He’s been in prison,” Nana said softly. “But he gets out tomorrow—”

“Alice,” Betty said, her tone sharp. “Hannah asked you a question.”

“What?” Alice said. “I’m sorry. I remembered something—” She saw the expectant expression on Betty’s face and recalled her vow to herself not to tell any more. “But it’s gone now.” She brushed her hand across her eyes. When she looked at the two women again, they were exchanging a glance. Did Hannah know about her amnesia? Alice had never told her. So, if she knew, either Betty or Donald had. She felt betrayed once again. Alice bit her lip and turned away.

She saw her father’s face, eyes looking at her intently. “I didn’t kill her, Lissy. I’m innocent.” She thought confusedly,
he didn’t kill Nana?
But she knew he had. Her head began to ache, and she became aware of where she was again.

“What did you ask me, Hannah?” she managed to say.

“How’s Donald?”

“He’s fine,” Alice replied dully and studied her shoes, hoping her headache would go away.

“Maybe we’d better leave now,” Betty said.

Alice glanced up in time to see another look pass between the two women. Suddenly, she didn’t care. Her head throbbed, and she hoped she wouldn’t remember any more. It might be better that way. It didn’t seem like she would be recalling pleasant memories. Everything so far was best forgotten.

They said good-bye to Hannah and went to see Lettie. The only light in the room came from the partially opened Venetian blinds. Thomas sat beside the bed, holding his wife’s hand through the safety bars. Lettie lay so still, the rise and fall of her chest the only noticeable sign of life. Her hair had been carefully arranged around her waxen face. She didn’t look like Lettie to Alice. The bun and the anxious expression were gone. She seemed younger, the wrinkles smoothed out, but then again older with the white hair brushed out around her pale face.

The steady blip-blip of the heart monitor was the only sound in that dim room. Thomas tried to smile at them as they entered, but his lips couldn’t seem to finish it. Clean-shaven, every hair in place, only a slight strain around the eyes showed his concern.

“Any change?” Betty asked.

Thomas started to get up, shaking his head. Betty motioned for him to sit back down.

“How are you doing?” Betty asked.

“I’m all right,” he said, his voice hoarse. Alice wondered if he’d been crying. As they got closer, she could see his eyes were bloodshot.

Suddenly Lettie’s eyes opened. The familiar frown creased her forehead. Alice held her breath.

Thomas said, “Lettie? Lettie, how do you feel?”

Slowly, her eyes turned to Thomas. “Do you know me?” she whispered.

Alice could barely hear her, but she knew what she said.
Oh
, Alice thought,
she’s going to be all right!

“You’re Lettie,” Thomas said gently. “Do you feel okay?”

“Tired,” Lettie said, closing her eyes. “Pillow took my breath away…”

Betty stepped forward. “Who, Lettie?” she asked urgently. “Who?”

Lettie’s eyes slowly opened again. “Do you know…” Surprise widened her eyes, and she took a large breath of air with a little gasp at the end. The startled expression left her face, the wrinkles smoothed out once more, and Alice realized she no longer breathed.

The heart monitor sounded one long, loud note, jarring Alice. Thomas stood up, appearing stunned, still holding his wife’s hand, grasping it and releasing it compulsively. His eyes filled with tears, and Alice turned away.

Alice felt numb as several hospital personnel rushed into the room, two of them pushing and pulling a large CPR machine.