One Last Love (5 page)

Bonnie watched the rain forming puddles on his terrace as his mind wandered the corridors of his life. He wondered why the worst memories burned themselves so deeply, when the best memories were worth so much more. When he thought about Colin as a baby, a joyous time, the memories of his death immediately flooded his mind. Of when he first met Carol, yet the bitterness of their latter years instantly submerged the thought. Bonnie shook his head slowly, the whispered, ‘Enough.’ He wriggled himself to the edge of the sofa and pulled his wheelchair towards himself, and after two tries he managed to stand, turn and seat himself. Then a soft tap at his door.

‘Hello. Mr. Mayfield?’

‘Yes.’

‘Nice to meet you. I’m Dennis,’ the young man in the doorway said. He was dressed casually in jeans and a sweater.

‘Ditto Dennis.’

‘Look, I just dropped by to see how you were getting on.’

‘Yeah?’

‘Well, I’m a counsellor here, and I thought you might like to have a little chat.’

‘Ah, so Odele sent you then.’

‘Well, she did mention that you’d just arrived and that you might like to talk about things.’

‘So you’re a shrink then, are you?’ Bonnie said, with Dennis still standing in the doorway.

‘Something like that. Sometimes is good just to talk about what’s on your mind. Get things of your chest, so to speak.’

‘Well, I have to tell you Dennis, I’m not much of a talker. Prefer to keep my personal stuff to myself. You know how it is. No offence, but I don’t think there’s much to talk about anyway considering the situation,’ he said but was thinking that he’d really like this time wasting do-gooder to piss off.

‘Oh, I understand Mr. Mayfield. But if you change your mind, just ask for me at the nurses’ station. You never know.’

‘Alright, I’ll keep it in mind,’ he lied.

‘Good then. Well, I’m sure I’ll run into you again.’

‘Ok,’ was all he said as Dennis gave up and left. ‘Bloody nosey bastard,’ Bonnie thought to himself.

Once the doorway was clear, Bonnie rolled towards his door, then into the hall. Being too wet to go outside, he decided that if he achieved nothing else, he would do a few laps of the halls until his mind cleared. He needn’t have made such a grand plan, as within a few short seconds he met Danny coming towards him.

‘I was just coming to see you.’

‘And why would you want to do that then?’

‘To see if you knew how to play Canasta.’

‘Of course I do.’

‘Good. Can you teach me?’

‘Teach you? Why in heaven’s name do you want to learn how to play Canasta?’

‘I found a Canasta Pack in the living room when I went to look for a book just now and it reminded me of my granddad. He used to play it all the time. I was only about six or seven when he died but I remember he tried to teach me how to play one evening. Forgotten it all now though.’

‘So you went hunting for the oldest bastard you could find then huh?’

‘Of course. No one plays Canasta now, so I had to find someone with a good few years on the clock.’

‘Geez. What a prize. So I get to play pretendy granddad, do I?’

‘Nope. At your age Bonnie, great-granddad I think.’

‘Smart arse,’ he said with a grin.

‘Well?’

‘Well bloody what?’

‘Will you teach me?’

‘After I find a place to have a quiet smoke without getting drowned.’

‘There’s the terrace off the dining room. It’s only used in summer so I suppose….’

‘Well done Sherlock. Lead the way.’

‘You know smoking is very unhealthy.’

‘I’m only in this bloody chair for speed young fella. I can still stand up and give you a bloody good clip around the ear.’

‘Temper, temper Bonnie,’ Danny laughed. ‘Follow me, I’ll show you the way.’

Bonnie lit his cigarette as Danny grabbed a plastic chair from a stack near some plastic tables that had been tied together over winter.

‘So where’s your wheelchair? Bonnie asked.

‘Oh, it comes and goes. I’m feeling a bit stronger this morning, so I thought I’d see how I went under my own steam.’

Danny didn’t comment as Bonnie coughed painfully on his first puff, and again on his second. He took a third and the smoke settled quietly in his lungs on this attempt. The rain was easing and the wind had died down to little more than a breeze. From where they sat they could see the entrance gates in the distance, and the road in front. Cars busily going left and right in little groups huddled together due to the wet road. Bonnie took a fourth puff and let the smoke linger in his lungs before exhaling. Danny glanced at Bonnie but said nothing. After a few minutes, Bonnie took his last puff, and looked around for an ashtray. There wasn’t one of course, so he flicked the butt towards the grass. It didn’t quite make it. Landing on the brick paving a few feet short of its target. He ignored his bad aim.

‘Are you married?’

‘Was once, a long time ago. She died,’ Bonnie replied as he looked into the distance.

‘Kids?’

‘Only one, but he died young.’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘Wasn’t your fault.’

‘I didn’t mean….’

‘Don’t worry about it….and you? Um well, stupid question I suppose.’

‘I had a partner for a long time.’

‘A bloke?’

‘What else Bonnie?’ Danny smiled.

‘I’m a bit thick sometimes.’

‘I think he got worried when I first got sick. I dunno, just wasn’t the same after that.’

‘So he pissed off then?’

‘Faded away really.’

‘Yeah. People have a habit of doin’ that. Don’t let ‘em get close anymore. Learnt my lesson.’

‘Love huh?’

‘Love’s a load of total bullshit.’

‘So, you didn’t try again. I mean after your wife.’

‘Bloody women are only trouble Danny. Had a few on and off. All bitches in the end. Geez, never thought I’d say this, but you’re probably lucky in way.’

‘Oh Bonnie, the grass is always greener huh?’

‘Hey, I ain’t planning on turning pufta you know.’

‘Don’t worry Bonnie. You’re safe.’

Both saw the car turning into the gates in the distance. As it drove slowly along the gravel driveway leading up towards them, it’s colour and shape emerged from the mist of the drizzle. Dark grey, long, with only two doors at the front and long glass windows extending along the rear. As it neared the front of the building, it was easy to read what was tastefully understated in light grey along the side of it. ‘Jacobs & Sons – Funeral Directors’

‘So, let’s get started on teaching you Canasta then,’ Bonnie said as he spun his wheelchair and headed back inside. Danny followed quietly. Forgetting to put his chair back, which sat alone facing the now stationary hearse. Within a minute the rear hatch opened, waiting politely for its passenger, who Bonnie had missed the chance to meet the evening before in the dining room.

*****

‘I told you, you have to have more naturals than wilds.’

‘But they’re Jokers.’

‘It doesn’t matter. Jokers and Twos are both wild.’

‘Alright,’ Danny said as he changed his play. ‘That better?’

‘No, you can’t use wilds with Threes.’

‘Damn.’

‘And anyway, they’re red Three’s so don’t hold them in your hand. Lay them down and take replacements from the deck.’

‘And the black Threes?’

‘Use them as discards. They’re useless.’

‘I though you said Canasta was easy.’

‘Ha, a game with no buttons and a screen must be a tough one for a young fella like you to learn huh?’ Bonnie said with a sarcastic grin.

‘And I suppose you’re an expert with a Game Boy?’

‘What the hell is a Game Boy?’

‘A thing with buttons and a screen. I’ll teach you one day,’ Danny laughed.

‘Probably just end up electrocuting myself.’

‘Oh I could just imagine what’s left of your hair standing on end Bonnie. ZZZzzzzzzzz!’ he said as he wiggled his fingers above his head.

‘Well, you’d be holding my hand teaching me young fella, so you’d have sparks coming out of your ears.’

‘Bbbbbbzzzzz,’ Danny said as he pointed his fingers at Bonnie like electrodes.

‘Bbbzzzzzzzz to you too!’

‘Bbbbzzzzzzz!’

‘Bbbbzzzzzzz!’

‘Are you two crazies bees or something?’ Angeline laughed as she heard the buzzing from the hall and peeked into the living room to see what the odd noises were.

‘We’re just electrocuting each other,’ Danny replied.’

‘What with?’

‘His Game Boy,’ Bonnie laughed.

‘I wouldn’t have thought you played Game Boy Bonnie,’ Angeline said in surprise.

‘I don’t. Have no idea what one even bloody looks like,’ he said and he and Danny laughed along with each other.

‘Oh you two are completely mad.’

‘Probably. Wanna join us Nancy? I’m teaching young Danny here how to play Canasta,’ Bonnie offered.

‘Do I really have to?’ she said with a smile, but it didn’t hide the pain Bonnie could see in her eyes. Unlike the evening before, she was in a wheelchair, with a drip inserted into the back of her left hand. The plastic bag and the tube feeding her, wobbling from a stainless steel pole above her head.

‘Would you mind if I just watched?’

‘You can tell me if he’s cheating,’ Danny smiled at Angeline.

‘I’ll keep an eye on him.’

‘Alright. If we’re all ready, I’ll deal,’ Bonnie said.

‘Can I cut first?’

‘Oh Danny, and here I was thinking you trusted me,’ Bonnie smiled.

‘If you’re anything like my granddad, I don’t. He always cheated my mum told me.’

‘It was Henry,’ Angeline quietly said as Bonnie dealt the cards.

‘Henry?’ Bonnie asked, still concentrating on counting out fifteen cards each.

‘Yes. He was the one who left this morning. I saw them drive him away.’

Bonnie stopped dealing. He’d lost count.

‘His grand daughter was there. She works in a florist shop she told me,’ Angeline continued.

‘I’m sorry,’ Bonnie said softly without looking up from the one card still in his dealing hand. Not knowing what else he should say.

‘I’ll get some tea,’ Danny said. ‘Or would you prefer coffee Bonnie?’

‘Coffee. Thanks.’

Bonnie sat in silence. The card still in between his fingers.

‘I don’t mind coffee for breakfast, but then tea for the rest of the day for me,’ Angeline said as she changed the subject. Bonnie noticing how she had opened her thoughts for only a moment, then slammed the door shut on them as if in self protection. She had cleared Henry from her mind it seemed.

‘I’ve never been one for tea myself, but my wife Carol used to drink it by the bucket load. Ten cups a day on average,’ he said then wondered why the hell he had mentioned Carol. He’d spent the best part of half of his life trying to rid his mind of her and here he was discussing her with a young girl he hardly knew.

‘It’s more addictive than coffee I believe.’

‘Yes. I’ve heard that too,’ Bonnie said just before a short silence arrived that lasted until Danny arrived with a tray of tea, coffee and biscuits.

‘Here we go then.’

‘Always said puftas make bloody good waiters,’ Bonnie said but his mind was still on Carol. There had been happy days.

‘You really are an old bastard Bonnie,’ Danny said with a smile.

‘So what’s it about, this word pufta I mean?’ Angeline asked but Bonnie was lost in his thoughts.

‘Sorry. I was off with the pixies,’ he said.

‘That’s ok. I do it all the time,’ she said. ‘Just interested to know where the word pufta came from?’

‘Well, I’m not sure to be honest. It was just a word we used back then when gay still meant being happy,’ he said. ‘So we had other words.’

‘What other words?’

‘Oh I don’t think you really need to know them all Nancy. It’s ancient history.’

‘But I bet you have a long list,’ Danny said but without any humour in his tone.

‘Like you said, all ancient history now,’ Angeline smiled but sensed a little tension.

‘Think I’ll finish my cuppa and go for a fag.’

‘Oh I like that one Bonnie. Is that a gay cigarette?’ Danny asked.

‘Na, all my smokes are dead straight,’ Bonnie said.

‘You two crack me up,’ Angeline said with no cheer and with a weakness in her voice. ‘Think I’ll finish my tea and go for a rest.’

‘Probably do the same,’ Danny said. ‘We’ll try Canasta again tomorrow perhaps?’

‘Ok,’ Bonnie said then slurped down the last of his coffee. ‘Now, I think I’ll roll off for that smoke.’

After their brief and polite ‘catch you laters’, Bonnie wheeled himself out onto the dining room terrace and lit his smoke and a cough or two followed as usual. He was angry with himself for how he’d just treated Danny. It was only for an unsaid moment, but he knew Danny had sensed it. Nothing particular in the words either had said, yet there was a moment of animosity that even Angeline had noticed. For one of the very rare times in his life, he knew he should apologise.

He turned his wheelchair towards the rose garden. The rain had stopped and shards of sunlight were hitting the wet ground. Reflecting from the grass and leaves. Puffing slowly, then squinting as a trail of smoke irritated his eye. He popped his smoke into the corner of his mouth to free his hands and pushed the wheels of his chair slowly, moving from the terrace onto the path that led to the rose garden. Stopping after a short distance to take a puff of his smoke. Then moved ahead again but coughing stopped his progress. He waited for it to pass, took the last puff of his cigarette and flicked it onto the grass, then moved forward towards the entrance to the rose garden. He wheeled through and stopped next to the bench opposite a rose bed. The bench glistening with drops of water on its shiny green painted surface. He sat and looked at the rose bushes, flushed with new green leaves and some already with small buds. The north didn’t really have spring, but with the wet rose leaves sparkling in the sunshine, it looked close enough to Bonnie.

‘They should bloom soon,’ a woman’s voice from Bonnie’s right said. He turned his head towards the voice. A tall, slim woman with a friendly smile, leaning on a walking stick. Her face wore a friendly look, but with piercing grey eyes that were sharp and aware.