Blackout (6 page)

“Where you from?” Joyce asked.

“Um, the Midwest.” Donald had mentioned her Midwestern accent. “Do we need to take anyone to the activity?” Alice asked to change the subject.

Joyce said, “Only two go from this hall. We’ll wait a while to take them ’cause it’s kind of crowded there right now.”

They continued making beds and turning residents until eleven thirty, which was lunchtime for the residents. After Alice had fed five people, she became more confident about the job. She had bed-making down to a science, too. When she and Joyce finished turning everyone who needed it, they went to the rotunda to note the time in each record.

Alice noticed Margaret marching down the hall, clipboard in hand, hairnet still covering her gray hair.
Doesn’t she ever take it off
, Alice wondered.

After Joyce and Alice had lunch, Joyce taught her how to give bed baths. These were also documented in resident charts.

At two thirty Alice entered Mrs. Lacy’s room again. Joyce wheeled her roommate to Activities for story time and asked Alice to turn Mrs. Lacy onto her other side. The only light in the room came from the draped window at the side of the bed. As Alice approached the sleeping figure, she wondered whether she should turn on the light. Then she saw the resident lying on her back, head propped on pillows, and hands folded over her stomach. Alice flipped on the light switch. She didn’t remember Mrs. Lacy being on her back. She’d been on her left side, Alice was sure.

Mrs. Lacy made no sound. She didn’t snore, or sigh, or breathe heavily. Alice hesitated, then leaned down and touched the woman’s shoulder. Alice’s skin tingled as she drew back. There was something different about the woman. Oh, yes, Mrs. Lacy’s hands had uncurled. The lines on her face seemed to have smoothed out somehow. Alice touched an icy-cold hand. She shuddered.

“Oh, no,” she whispered as she stepped back from the bed. She stared at Mrs. Lacy, trying to tell herself she was just in a deeper state of unconsciousness but not believing it.

She rushed from the room toward the rotunda, bumping into a linen cart, then almost running into Joyce.

“What’s wrong?” Joyce asked.

“It’s Mrs. Lacy. I think she’s…” Alice couldn’t say it.

“What?” Joyce demanded. She glared at Alice. “Come on.” She took Alice’s wrist and rushed back to Mrs. Lacy’s room.

Alice wouldn’t go inside. She stood in the doorway, shivering, while Joyce felt for a pulse, then grabbed Alice again. They went flying down the hall to the rotunda.

“Betty!” Joyce said. “Need you in 312.”

Betty looked up from a chart, frowning. “What now?” she asked as she followed the two aides down the hall.

Betty stopped in the doorway as the aides waited on either side of her.

The overhead fluorescents illuminated Mrs. Lacy clearly. She seemed peaceful, but a sense of dread overcame Betty as she slowly entered the room.

Damn
, she thought.
I liked Mrs. Lacy
. She’d been a real lady. When she’d first come to Merry Hills she was mobile with the aid of a cane. Each morning she’d dressed with care, put on lipstick and one piece of jewelry. Pleasant to all, she took a walk around inside the building after breakfast and after lunch every day. She attended lots of activities, never complained, ate her meals, was continent. She’d come to Merry Hills because of the increasing crime in her neighborhood that caused her to fear staying there.

She had one son in Connecticut and a woman from her church who helped her move in and visited her faithfully every Wednesday. All her friends from years past had either died or moved away to be close to their families.

Then she found out her son had passed away in a helicopter crash. The woman from church put her on a plane for the funeral, and when she came back from Connecticut, she could hardly walk. The son had had no wife or children, and Mrs. Lacy had seemed to give up. Soon she needed to use a walker, then a wheelchair.

The woman from church stopped coming. Betty called the pastor to find out she’d moved away, and he couldn’t get anyone to take her place.

Mrs. Lacy stopped speaking and became incontinent. A series of small strokes finally made her bedbound.

And now. And now, she was gone. Betty hoped, but didn’t really believe, she’d rejoined her son. For a moment, Betty reflected on her own childless and husbandless state but quickly put the thought aside to go to Mrs. Lacy, to automatically feel for a pulse. There was none. Betty shivered. Carefully, she raised the sheet over Mrs. Lacy’s face. She heard a gasp from the doorway and turned to see Alice with her hand over her mouth, eyes huge with tears.

Oh, no
, Betty thought. “Joyce, keep Mrs. Lacy’s roommate occupied when she returns, will you? Alice, you come with me.” She took the girl’s arm and walked her down the hall toward her office. Rita stood behind the rotunda, and Betty stopped a moment, keeping her hand on Alice, who was snuffling and wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.

“Mrs. Lacy’s gone,” Betty told her assistant. “Please follow procedures. I’m going to my office.” She moved her head to indicate Alice. “I’ll check with you later.”

“I’ll take care of everything,” Rita assured her.

Keeping a firm hold on Alice, Betty steered her down the hall to her office. Once there, she indicated a chair, handed her a box of tissues, closed the door, and went to sit behind her desk.

A sob escaped the girl, and Betty sighed. She thought the reaction a little overblown. After all, Alice hadn’t even known Mrs. Lacy until today. Probably reacting more to stress than anything, she decided.

“It’s too bad that had to happen on your second day, Alice. But it does happen. Some people will say Mrs. Lacy is better off now.” A sudden thought occurred to Betty. “You didn’t know her before you started working here, did you?”

The crying stopped suddenly, and Alice stared at Betty.

“I…I don’t think so.”

“What does that mean?” Betty demanded. “Either you did or you didn’t.”

“I can’t remember.” Alice put her face in her hands and started sobbing in earnest.

Puzzled, Betty got up and came around to the front of her desk, perching on its edge in front of the girl. She patted Alice’s shoulder and let her cry a minute.

“Tell me.” She handed Alice a fresh tissue.

“I…I can’t remember anything about my life before Donald brought me to Valleyview.”

“What? Oh, Alice.” Betty clasped her shoulder. “Nothing at all?”

Alice looked up at her, eyes pleading—for what, Betty didn’t know. Understanding, belief, help? “I had a dream about an old woman once, a nightmare really, and some of it seemed real. And today, I remembered riding in a truck headed toward a tree. But that’s all.” She dabbed at her eyes with the tissue.

“Have you told anyone else?” Betty stood up and went to the window, staring sightlessly at the front parking lot. This was incredible. What you get for not following the hiring rules, she told herself ruefully. No wonder she didn’t have ID and other papers with her. And the inspection team would be having exit interviews any minute now.

“No. I pretend I remember things. I was afraid to tell anyone. I have a feeling, a sense, that something terrible happened before I forgot. So, maybe it’s better if I never remember. But it’s driving me crazy. Oh, Ms. Cranston,” she cried, “they won’t put me away somewhere will they, thinking I’m crazy? I couldn’t stand it.” She shivered and shook and cried some more.

“Why would you think that, child?” Betty asked.

“I don’t know. Just a feeling I have.”

Betty came over to her once more and put an arm around her shoulder. “This is bigger than both of us. You need to see a doctor who knows how to help people with this type of problem.”

“You don’t think my memory will come back? It has to.”

Betty watched Alice take another tissue and dab at her red-rimmed eyes.

“From what I’ve read in the journals, that’s certainly possible. You had a head injury?”

“Yes.”

“Well, it might come back on its own. But Alice, what if it doesn’t?” She didn’t want to mention the possibility of hysterical amnesia. If Alice had had a bad emotional shock before the head injury, that could cause amnesia, too. “All I know is you need professional care.”

“But I don’t have the money for that.” Alice bowed her head in defeat.

“Those things can usually be worked out,” Betty said soothingly.

A light tap sounded on the door, and Betty went to answer it.

Wanda stood there. “I’m ready for the exit interview, Betty,” she said. “My plane leaves in an hour and a half.”

“I’ll be right out,” Betty told her. Then to Alice, “I have to go to the administrator’s office for about half an hour. I want you to stay here until I come back. Okay?”

“Yes, Ms. Cranston,” Alice said. She sniffed and coughed as Betty left with Wanda.

Wanda didn’t say anything as they walked to Katherine’s office. Betty tried to focus her thoughts on the upcoming meeting, but she kept thinking about Alice. Something about the girl touched a chord deep inside her.

As the two nurses approached the office area, Margaret left Katherine’s office with Janice, the dietary inspector from home office. Margaret’s expression revealed nothing. Betty was surprised to see her without her blue hairnet. The woman wore it like a badge of honor. Of course, she had worked her way up from cook to head of the dietary department.

Katherine beckoned to Betty and Wanda to come into her office.

“How did Betty do, Wanda?” Katherine asked as they all sat down.

“Now, Katherine,” Wanda said. “You know it’s the department as a whole. And they did very well. Got an eighty-eight percent overall.”

Betty felt her mouth tighten. Not even a ninety. Damn it. She’d expected at least a ninety-two.

Katherine frowned. “What were the main issues?” She glanced at Betty, then at Wanda again.

“The decubiti rate acquired in-house. And, Katherine, even I’m having a hard time determining a cause. According to documentation, the residents are turned every two hours. Unless just the documentation is done, and not the actual turning…”

“No. I spot-check that,” Betty said. “They’re being turned.”

“Well,” Wanda said. “Home office is designing a new form.” Betty rolled her eyes. “I know,” Wanda said as she laughed a little, “just what you want—more paperwork. But it will help you determine percentages of things like decubs acquired in-house, weight loss, residents on antipsychotic drugs, stuff like that. It shouldn’t take more than half an hour a month to work up. It will give you a clearer picture of trends.”

“But not necessarily the answers to why they’re happening,” Betty said bitterly.

“True.” Wanda shrugged and smiled. “But on to other things, Betty. Really, your department does an excellent job. Both employee and resident satisfaction are high.”

Betty and Katherine exchanged looks and smiled.

Wanda explained the rest of her findings, going over each page of the report. When she finished, she got up and shook hands. She left Katherine’s office to join the rest of the inspection team in the lobby.

“Whew,” Betty said.

“I know you have mixed emotions,” Katherine said. “But I have confidence you’ll find the cause of the decubs and get it fixed. Next year you’ll break ninety, I’m sure.”

“Damn right,” Betty replied. “This is unbelievable. Something’s rotten, and I’m going to get to the bottom of it.”

They remained silent a moment. Katherine fiddled with a pen while Betty stared out the window. The inspection team was leaving in their rental car. Must be nice, she thought. Find the problems, then leave it to someone else to fix.

She stood up to go back to her office. Katherine got up, too, and came around her desk. Katherine walked with Betty toward the rotunda where Brenda and Yolanda stood talking with Rita.

Betty said to Rita, “There’ll be a meeting of all nursing staff tomorrow at nine a.m. Get the word out. We got an eighty-eight, and I’m damn well going to find out why!” She glanced at her watch. “I’ve got to go to my office.” It had been about an hour since she’d left Alice. She hurried down the hall, almost running into Lettie and Thomas Black.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“Is everything all right?” Thomas asked, concern on his face.

“Yes. Yes, everything’s fine.”

“Do you have a minute, then?” Thomas glanced at Lettie, then back at Betty.

“Do you know me?” Lettie asked.

“Yes, Lettie.” Betty kept her impatience in check, but it was hard right now. “I’m sorry, Thomas, but I do have to see to something rather urgent. Can we talk another time?”

He appeared disappointed. “Of course. I’ll catch you later, then.” He led Lettie away as Betty hurried down the hall to her office.

She opened the door and stepped inside. Alice had left. Not surprised, she eased herself into her chair, feeling utterly defeated. What a day. May she never have another one like it.

She reached for the phone to call Hannah. “This is Betty Cranston. I’m calling to see if Alice got home all right.”

“Yes, Betty, she did.” The voice on the other end sounded puzzled. “Is there something I should know about?”

“No,” Betty said hastily. “Except one of our residents passed away today, and Alice seemed upset.”

Betty thought,
Alice took me into her confidence about her amnesia. She’ll have to tell Hannah in her own way and time. It’s not my place to do it
.

Hannah said, “That’s too bad. And yes, I can see how that might bother her. She hardly said anything to me when she came in, now I think about it. Just went to her room.”

“Yes. Well, if she doesn’t come in tomorrow, I’ll understand. Tell her that for me, will you, Hannah? But I hope she comes back. I think it would be best if she does.”

“I’ll let her know, Betty. Thank you for your concern. I really appreciate it, and Alice will, too.”

“Yes. I’ve a lot to do, Hannah. I’ll talk to you later.”

“All right,” Hannah replied. “Thanks again for calling.”

Even after they hung up Betty sat awhile, her hand still on the phone.

In a few minutes, she roused herself. Thinking about Mrs. Lacy and the strange coincidence of the folded hands, she decided she really should call Jerod, her nephew on the police force. When she tried, though, he was out. She saw by her watch it was after four o’clock and decided to go home early today. After all, she’d been at the center until almost midnight the night before.