Mercy Me (13 page)

“No'm. I'm going with the chillun. It'll be a strange place for them, and they need me to spend a little time with them till they settle in. Then I'll get along home.”

Pastor Osborne spoke up. “Good. That'll help Betty. But Elijah, you needn't to walk home; whenever you're ready to go, I'll drive you.”

“What should I do if I need you, Elijah?” I asked.

“Maybe you could call me at the preacher's house.”

“Sure,” the pastor said. “Esmeralda, you have our number.”

“Yes, I have it. . . . Okay, then, Elijah, if you aren't at the Osbornes', I'll find you at home. Might be I have to send somebody else, though. I think I need to stay right here at the hospital.”

I closed the car door, and they eased on around the driveway. Watching them go, I wished I could be there to see Betty's face when those kids arrived. She would light up like a Christmas tree.

I looked across the parking lot and saw Lucy Mangrum getting out of her car. I waited for her.

“Esmeralda, I couldn't stay put,” she said as she hurried up to me. “What if that lady wakes up and I'm not there?”

“It's good you came. Let's go up and see her.”

When we reached Carmen's room, they were still bathing and dressing her. As we stood in the hall, I filled Lucy in on all that was going on. I had to let her in on the fact that Carmen Miranda was not the woman's real name. Lucy said that if Carmen spoke Spanish, she would try to find out what her name really was.

Finally we were admitted in the room. There were tubes going in and out that poor emaciated body, and the girl was still unconscious. We'd hardly sat down when there they came to take her down to X ray.

While Carmen was gone, I went down the hall and called Clara to bring her up-to-date on the situation. “Tell the women not to be calling the hospital. I'll call you if there's any change.” Once the W.W.s heard the children were at Betty's, I knew they'd go over there with food and help the Osbornes any way they could.

The chair I sat in was not the most comfortable, but after they brought Carmen back to the room, I had reason to stand by her bedside. She was mumbling and from time to time opening her eyes, though I'm not sure she was seeing anything. She was kind of wild and talking out of her head. Still, I told Lucy to listen and ask what her name was.

Lucy tried. It was no use. The woman was not in her right mind.

The one thing that made me smile that day was them nurses. They could not have been nicer. They brought me a better chair—a big, soft recliner. Sometimes there were as many as two of them and an aide in the room, fussing over Carmen, sponging her off, checking the IVs, taking her pulse.

Of course, they were being so nice because of Carmen's celebrity status. Once they used up every excuse they could think of for staying in the room, they stood around, asking me questions about Carmen. “Was she on Broadway?” “What movies did she play in?” “How many times was she married?” “Who was she married to?” I tell you, that put me on the spot. I reckon a born liar could've handled it, but I for one am not a born liar. I just told them this was not the time nor the place to be asking such questions.

But by then, the news that a celebrity was on the third floor had spread to the next shift coming on duty. As soon as the shift changed, Lucy and I had a fresh crop of nurses making a beeline to Room 319, hoping to get a glimpse of Carmen Miranda. I tell you, it just plain wore me out.

A Christian don't get away with lying. I felt so guilty, but I couldn't tell them nurses the truth because Carmen had no kind of insurance, and hospitals are fussy about money. Still, as Splurgeon says, “A clear conscience is a good pillow.” And my conscience was far from clear.

So I just concentrated on the business at hand. Since Lucy didn't want to leave the room to get something to eat, I went down to the cafeteria, ate one of them sorry hospital meals, and brought her a plate. Carmen was still very restless, but we hoped this was a sign she was getting a little better.

However, after supper, when Dr. Elsie looked in on her, she just shook her head. “The next twenty-four hours are crucial. I would've put her in intensive care, but we're filled up in there. Keep a close eye, Esmeralda, and if you need me, I can be here in two shakes of a lamb's tail.”

That was a comfort. The white coat and the stethoscope made Dr. Elsie seem like a different person from the woman in a shirtmaker dress who sat on the third pew in Apostolic Bible Church.

“I'm afraid it'll be a long night for you,” she said. “Can I get you anything?” After we said no, she reached over and hugged us both. I tell you, the white coat could not hide the heart of the saint in a shirtmaker dress.

A little after eleven o'clock, five nurses came into the room, whispering amongst theirselves. Above their whispering, I heard a tap on the door. Pastor Osborne poked his head in the room. “Is this a bad time?” he said.

“No, come in,” I said.

He slipped into the room. “What are all these nurses doing in here?”

“Well, I don't know, really,” I lied. Of course, I knew they had come to see the star of stage, screen, and television. It was downright crazy. Carmen was sleeping more peacefully now, but those women were bumping into each other, trying to find something to do so as to stay in the room. Before they started asking ridiculous questions, I took the pastor into the hall where we could talk.

I asked about the children. He said Betty had bathed and fed them, then he had told them stories and helped Betty put them to bed in the spare room. Sometime in the late afternoon, he had taken Elijah home with more than enough food for his supper. “The W.W.s brought over casseroles to last a week,” the pastor said. “While they were there, we all got down on our knees in the living room and prayed for Carmen.”

I felt guilty for not telling him Carmen was not her real name. I started to tell him, but I chickened out. “Pastor, I just wanted to tell you how much it means to me having you praying for her and us. Also, the good messages you bring us every Sunday. Like Splurgeon says, ‘Good pastures make fat sheep.'”

The minute I said it, I knew I was not a fat sheep; for all I was worth, I was a black sheep for sure.

After Pastor Osborne left, Lucy and I settled in for the night. I slept very little, because the hospital staff kept coming in all during the night. Then, at a little before five o'clock, we started hearing ambulances. One after another of them was coming, their sirens screaming.

Well, I couldn't worry about what was going on. Lucy and I had enough on our hands without anything more.

But after five o'clock, when we really needed a nurse, they were all tied up with that emergency, whatever it was. Carmen was thrashing about in the bed, pulling at the side rails and trying to get out. It took both of us to hold her down. She was babbling something, and Lucy said she was asking for her babies. That was a good sign, but Carmen was getting wilder by the minute.

We sure needed some help, but now I figure it was a good thing we couldn't get a nurse, because that was when we got Carmen's real name.

It's amazing the strength of a person at death's door. As I was trying to keep the poor girl from doing harm to herself, she dug her fingernails into my arm and would not let go. Frantic, she stared at me and asked something. I looked over to Lucy.

“She wants to know who you are,” Lucy told me.

“Tell her I'm her friend.” I hesitated. “And ask her to let go my arm.”

Lucy relayed all that information, but Carmen did not let go.

“Tell her the children are safe—that they are with the preacher until she can get well.”

“I did already, but it doesn't quiet her.”

“Well, ask her what her name is, then.”

Carmen mumbled something that Lucy bent to hear. Then Lucy looked up with a smile. “She says it's Maria Lopez.”

I was able to free my arm. As I stood there examining the marks her nails had made, I said, “Ask her where she comes from.”

Lucy asked, but now Maria was jerking like she was having a seizure. I went out in the hall and hollered, “Get me a nurse in here right away!”

I didn't see a nurse anywhere, not even at the nurses' station. A maintenance worker at the far end of the hall put down her mop and came toward me. She was as big around as she was tall. “Call Dr. Elsie,” I told her. “Tell her it's Carmen.” The woman shuffled off down the hall, but I didn't trust her to do what I asked.

I looked in the room to see if it was safe for me to go find somebody. Maria was still jerking and had wet the bed, but she was not so violent as she had been before. “Lucy,” I said, “there's not a nurse on this floor. I'm trying to get hold of a nurse.”

“Wait a minute,” Lucy said, sounding about to panic. “Don't leave me right now.”

Maria was coming out of the seizure, if that's what it was. She lay there exhausted, making a gurgling sound in her throat.

“Well, then we got to change this bed,” I said. I went to find sheets. The maintenance woman unlocked a closet, handed me a gown, and piled my arms with sheets, pillowcases, towels, and washcloths.

Back in the room, I cleaned up Maria, then put a folded sheet under her and showed Lucy how to lift her and remove the wet sheet. It took a while, but we managed to have Maria in a nice clean bed by the time a nurse finally showed up.

With a nurse in the room, I figured it was all right for me to make the call to Dr. Elsie. I went out in the hall to use the phone. When I got ahold of Dr. Elsie, I gave her a blow-by-blow description of the night's activity. She laughed at the nurses' curiosity about Carmen Miranda. “Esmeralda, she's been dead since the fifties!”

“I know,” I said, “but that's the only Spanish name I could think of, and you know the hospital would never admit a patient that had no name. They might keep her in emergency a day and a night, but after that, they'd like as not ship her out.”

Dr. Elsie chuckled. “In the meantime, she's getting the royal treatment!”

“Well, yes,” I said. “I'm not too proud about that, but it was the best I could do.”

When I got back in the room, Maria was sleeping and Lucy looked like a very happy camper. “Maria is from Guatemala,” she told me, wringing her hands. “All her family were killed in an earthquake down there. I don't know what brought her here. She's real agitated about her kids. I kept telling her they're safe and sound.” She stopped wringing her hands and looked down at them. She was quiet for a moment. “Esmeralda, do you think the Lord is going to heal her?”

“I hope so,” I said, but I had my doubts.

I was fixing to go downstairs for a bite of breakfast when Dr. Elsie came. She read the chart, which didn't have much written on it, then checked Maria from head to toe.

“Dr. Elsie, what do you think?” I asked.

“I think the fluids have helped, but she still needs to be in ICU. There's been a train wreck in Sumter County with injuries filling every bed, so we'll have to keep her here.” She turned to Lucy. “Have you found out anything more than her name?”

“She's from Guatemala. All her family were killed in an earthquake.”

“I see.” She jotted something on the chart, tucked it under her arm, and told us, “I'm ordering another sedative. If she gets out of hand, call the nurse.”

Lucy and I spent another long day at the hospital. Nurses were so busy with the emergency patients, they didn't have time to pay attention to Maria. I kept close watch on the IVs, and when one needed to be changed, I made it my business to find a nurse. Maria slept all day, so in the afternoon, I sent Lucy home to take a shower, make some phone calls, and rest for a bit. In two hours she was back at the hospital and gave me my turn.

I took a bath, put on fresh clothes, and fed the birds. I was ready to drive back to the hospital when the phone rang. It was Beatrice. I didn't have time to tell her the whole story, so I just told her I was sitting in the hospital with a friend she didn't know. She didn't press me, because she was too excited about what she had to say.

“Esmeralda, Carl said he would go to church with me Sunday. What do you think?”

“Well, I think that's fine.”

“I know, but you know how people are—they'll be looking at us and whispering and asking me to introduce him.”

“Well, go to church a little late, sit in the back, and leave fast.”

“But if we go late, all the back-row seats will be filled up.”

I sighed. That woman could not think for herself, and I was too tired to do her thinking for her. “Beatrice, you're just going to have to do what you think is best. I have got to get back to the hospital.”

“Wait! Just one thing more, Esmeralda. When he brings me home, do I invite him in or just let him go on his way?”

“Why don't you invite him for dinner?”

“For dinner! It won't look right, me bringing a man in the house with nobody here but me.”

I tell you, I was put out with her. “Well, then ask somebody else to eat dinner with you.”

“I never thought of that. There's lots of people hungry after church.”

“Well, you do that, Beatrice. I got to go now. I'll talk to you later.”

As I drove back to the hospital, I figured I'd been short with Beatrice. But for the life of me, I just didn't have it in me to feel bad about that. There she was, hanging on the phone like she was the only person in the world who had a care, and there I was, facing so many problems I couldn't keep my head above water. If I hadn't cared about her, I would've told her, “Beatrice, you are on your own!” But I knew I was thinking that way only because I was tired. When the whole mess was over, I'd be there for Beatrice, like I'd always been.

When I stepped on the elevator, there was Dr. Elsie. She did not mince her words. “Esmeralda, we need to talk.”