The Flowers on the Wall

“There are flowers on the wall…”

Eleanor’s wall opposite her bed, which was usually a bland shade of grey, was erupting with life. A variety of bouquets full of roses, tulips, daffodils, hydrangeas, and frangipani decorated the small space in a vibrant burst of colour.

Jeanie stood at Eleanor’s bedside, eyeing the wall dubiously. 

“Well, where did they come from?”

“George, my brother, brought them here for me.” Eleanor frowned for a moment, “It’s funny. I haven’t seen him for so long, and he looks like he hasn’t aged a day.”

Eleanor watched as Jeanie smiled, almost pityingly at her, before moving around the room picking things up here and tidying there. Shifting her eyes over to the flowers again, Eleanor marveled at how the colours bled across the wall in the rays of the setting sun. 

She had always loved gardening. When her sons had grown up and left home, Eleanor was unsure what to do with herself after spending so much of her time looking after them. A garden, her husband had decided, would do her good. It had started small with every day seeing her coaxing and guiding her plants lovingly, until one by one, they started to bloom. Eleanor had loved that garden. When her husband became sick, she couldn’t spend much time maintaining it anymore, and sadly it became overrun with weeds. By the time she could go out and see the damage done, it was already too late for her to salvage them. Eleanor smiled, George always knew what her favourite flowers were.

Days were starting to become a blur for Eleanor, each day rolling into the other, following the same routine. Most of the time she would see people coming and going, and yet Eleanor stayed stuck in her bed, cursed to watch life pass her by.

She moved her fork once more through the soggy rice before her, masquarading as apricot chicken, when Jeanie wheeled her trolley in. Eleanor could see the dirty dishes piled precariously atop each other on the trolley and wondered idly how so many people had finished their meals when it tasted like this.

“Still goin’ love? I can give ya some more time if ya like.” Jeanie came around to the tray hovering over Eleanor’s lap, and started tidying up the empty tea cup and sugar packets. 

Mustering up some determination, Eleanor lifted one last sloppy spoon to her mouth, chewing slowly on the tasteless mush, before swallowing with a grimace and putting the spoon on the tray. She could see Jeanie glance disapprovingly at the mostly full bowl, but considering it wasn’t Jeanie that had to eat it, Eleanor didn’t pay any mind. Jeanie was quick to collect her bowl and set a glass of water on the bedside table before disappearing out the door. 

The nights were Eleanor’s favourite time of the day lately. The background chatter of the residents and visitors moving to and from rooms during the day died down and all that was left to hear was the quiet whirring of her mini fridge and the distant sound of crickets singing through her window.

Picking up her book, Eleanor settled down to read. Not quite remembering what the last couple of paragraphs had talked about, she backtracked to the beginning of her chapter and started again. For some reason, she could never get through to the next chapter of her book, as she could never remember what had happened before. She was starting to feel a little stuck.

Eventually, movement over the top of the book drew her attention away from her story. Eleanor was unsure how long she had been reading for. It was quiet outside, the crickets had stopped their singing, and she could only just hear the murmurings of other residents' televisions through the walls. 

A man sat at the foot of Eleanor’s bed, smiling sadly at her. It took her a moment to recognise this man as her husband, Henry, but that didn’t make sense. How did he get in? Visiting hours had long been over and there was always a very strict woman at the door who ensured no one came in, and no one went out. Eleanor had the niggling feeling that she was forgetting something, something important.

“Hello stranger. It’s been a while hasn’t it?”

“Has it?” Eleanor tried thinking back to when the last time she saw Henry was, but no memory was coming forward to offer help. It can’t have been too long ago, Henry was always close by when she needed him. “Well where have you been?”

“Not far,” Henry said. “Never far.”

“Would you like a cup of tea then? I’ll put the kettle on.” Eleanor shifted slightly on the bed, slowly moving her legs over to the side. Henry put his hand on her knee, stopping the movement.

“Can’t this time love. I’m not staying for long I’m afraid.”

Eleanor started to protest, he had only just gotten here! There was that niggling feeling again, there was a reason she was worried about Henry leaving - something to do with his health - but she just couldn’t put her finger on it.

“There’s something I need to tell you, Eleanor. You’re ready to hear it now.” Henry leaned forward, staring directly into her eyes, and she felt the fight seep out of her body immediately.

“The time is coming soon, where you’re going to leave here. It is going to be scary, you’re going to be afraid, but that’s okay. Things are going to get a little bit harder, normal everyday things that come naturally to you, are going to take all your effort. That’s okay. When that time comes, I want you to think of me. I know you’re strong, I have the utmost faith in you, I know you’ll be alright.”

Eleanor watched, confused, as Henry stood from the bed and planted a soft kiss on her forehead. She wanted to ask what he was talking about, she wanted to tell him not to leave as she had an awful feeling, but her eyelids were drooping. Eleanor was tired. Her limbs felt heavy and her bones ached, a deep ache, and so she let her eyelids close and gave into her body’s demands.

The next time Eleanor heard someone walk into her room, it was Jeanie. She recognised her voice talking, muffled as it was, as she moved about the room. Eleanor tried to open her eyes to tell Jeanie to quiet down, she was tired and she wanted to sleep, but her eyelids were glued together. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t open them. Eleanor thought that maybe she should be panicking about this new problem, but instead felt an eerie calm. Each breath she took was exhausting, it took everything for her to take a deep, rattling breath and let it go again, creating a loud wheezing noise that grated through the room. She tried to push her tongue out to her lips, to wet them and soothe the sting when they moved, but her tongue didn’t obey. It was more effort than she could muster.

“Here you go darl’,” Jeanie said. Eleanor felt a firm, smooth pressure run across her lips, and managed to sigh in relief.

“You just rest easy now, we’ll take care of ya.”

Eleanor distantly felt the blanket being pulled up to her shoulders, and under this new warmth she realised how cold she had been. Staying awake was tiring, and she found she couldn’t maintain it for very long before slipping back into unconsciousness.

A rough, calloused hand is what roused her from her sleep again. It enveloped her thin, cold fingers, giving them a gentle squeeze. Breathing was still difficult, and she couldn’t stop the wheezing if she tried, but surprisingly she mustered enough energy to open her eyes. 

It was hard, unsticking her eyelids, and it took a moment for the world to come into focus. The room was dim, a faint light emanated from a lamp in the corner of the room, and that’s all Eleanor needed to see the man sitting in front of her.

“Hey mum.”

John. She recognised her son immediately, her eyes raking over his face taking in every little detail. Her memory was a little more helpful this time, bringing forward a vision of a truck on a slippery road and the words ‘he’s dead.’ A sob wracked through her body, and she didn’t have the strength to fight it.

“You left me,” Eleanor managed to get out between her sobs. Mothers aren’t meant to cry in front of their sons, she was always a firm believer of that, but she was tired, and not strong enough to control her body anymore.

”I know mum,” John said. “I’m so sorry, I never wanted to.”

“You’ve been gone for so long…”

“I know, but I’m here now. Catch me up on what I’ve missed?”

Eleanor could feel her breathing getting easier, no longer hearing her wheezing breath rattle through the room. Her body was also starting to feel lighter, her bones no longer aching, and she could feel nothing but relief. Distantly, she heard footsteps enter her room, and some muffled urgent calling, but she didn’t care about that. Right now John was smiling, gently squeezing her hand.

“I might need a cup of tea first. It’s a long story.”

“That’s okay,” he said. “We’ve got all the time in the world.”