Dead or Not

Dripping and about to turn the corner, his ears perked up as his heels slowed. He stood their hovering in the shadow of the wall listening.

               “I can’t believe anyone would actually come to visit her.”

               Woman in scrubs sat around, gossiping away.

               “She’s lost everything. Can you blame her?”

               “I wouldn’t want to go out like that though.”

“She’s stubborn, bad tempered, and violent.”

               “She threw a tray at me the other day. I’ve been having Ramona attend to her since then.”

               “Well she’s not as bad as Tom’s room.” A woman typing on the computer chortled “Ha I’d take an ill tempered fragile old lady over changing Tom’s bed sheets.”

               They chorused praise for her, “You’re the best at it though.”

               “We need you,” one woman proclaimed.

               The man, listening patiently strolled around the corner. The women’s faces were stunned to see him. “Marco,” one of the women called out behind their large circular desk. “We were just talking about your mother.” The other women around responded by turning away from her and shaking their heads.

Marco smiled as he signed his name and handed the clipboard to the nurse. “I know she can be a handful.”

               She took it blinking, “you can leave that on the desk Marco.” She set it back down. “of course I remember you.”

               The women all sat in silence. There were always five nurses on duty. All women, and they all looked like the head nurse, with their short brown hair cut, strong features, and skinny frame. They shuffled around pretending to glance in folders and the head nurse stood over the copy machine pushing some buttons.

               “Alright you’re good to go.”

               Marco, looked down the hall as the doors opened. The micab air, smelling of over sweet orange, swept out and blew past him.

               Will we all end up here? He thought to himself as he scuffled down the hallway. The barren white walls, spotted with framed copies of inspirational quotes. “Attitude is Everything” explained in white words on a bright blue background. He turned right. Eyeing the door, his hand rested on the knob for a moment before he entered.

               When he pushed the door open he immediately heard the pitter patter of rain against the window. The room was completely dark. Lightning flashed revealing his mother’s face was wide awake in bed, her eyes puffy from crying, tears soaking her sheets.

               “Marco,” her hoarse voice whispered in the darkness.

               Thunder crashed into their room. The boom erupting throughout the building.

               “What’s wrong mom?” He sat at her bed side.

               She pulled his hands into hers, “Marco I can’t live like this anymore. I don’t know what’s happening to me.”

               “What are you talking about? have the nurses done something to you?”

               “No!” She snapped, crying out as thunder shook the room. Silence was the only sound left behind.

               Marco turned on the T.V. “Maybe we can watch something together. I’ll turn on some re-runs.” The station switched and the familiar theme song played in the air.

               “No!” She cried again, before looking up and away.

               Marco saw the flash of insight disappear from her eye. Her gaze glazing over. Her voice fading out she asked. “Please just let me die?”

               Then another flash and she had changed.

               “Johnny,” holding her hands against her cheeks she announced cheerfully. “What are you doing here?”

               “Mom?”

               Attention turning to the television she growled, “those nurses left the T.V. on again.”

               Marco quickly switched the T.V. off. As if she was quickly losing her patience she asked, “where is my food?”

               “You’ve already eaten today.”

               “Are you saying you’d rather have your sister starve?”

               “It’s been a while,” he said pulling a pile of cards out of his bag.

               Her face lit up and she forgot all of her anger.

               Inexplicably, no matter the game they played together she won every round.

               I wish some others of us were here. We had so much fun back then. When the world was newer, they all looked so young. What did life do to us?

               Steam began to leak out of her ears the closer she got to any kind of challenge. It was not long before he declared her the winner. She smiled momentarily before her eyes moved towards the window. He layed another hand in front of her, instinctively she picked it up.   

               Even now you seem less happy than back then. I’m sorry.

               They started to draw. Alternating between each of them, they layed down a card or asked about each other’s hands.

There might be a cure that comes out tomorrow, but if I hadn’t heard about it by now, would it be in time to rescue her before she passes on.  

The moment they would stop playing, she immediately went back to sulking in her terrible mood.

Is it the end for her is there nothing good left?

               Eventually, she fell asleep. Even in sleep, her fists were clenched around the blanket. It was something that he was oddly familiar with.

               I could never. She was the only one who forgave me. I give it up to god.”

               Although without people’s intervention she would have been gone a long time ago.  

               She smiled so often.

               As a kid she always used to be happy, but what has happened to her now. She is trapped. For good and forever. But is this my decision to make.

               How many surgeries has she had, and pills is she fed. To keep her blood sugar down and to keep her heart rate steady. Without modern technology she would have decayed so much at this point she would already been gone.

               Tears began to roll down his cheeks.

               Isn’t life a blessing though.

               He sat there fidgeting in his chair, staring off into the darkness. NO doubt everyone else in the family would be happy about it. She has been the only thing holding onto our late father’s assets. Although one time, he remembered, she threatened to donate all of it to charity in her will. Of course all of that was most likely a lie. A lie that she created In order to test her children. We all ended up failing though. We felt betrayed and left her to rot in a sweet smelling prison and she still holds a strong grudge against us.

               When eight o clock hit. Ramona came into the room. She set up her C-Pap Machine, the grey box beeped periodically as 02 flowed into her lungs.

               That doesn’t look very comfortable.

               The instant she awoke, his mother cussed at the nurse and attempted to pull the tubes out of her nose. The nurse restrained her.

               The nurse, grinning and bearing it as they wrestled, strapped machines to her arm.   

He looked up. The clock’s hands had spun past midnight, and he was still sitting there. Every possibility he could think, spinning in his head.

               She didn’t know what she was talking about?

The truth is that was the most lucid she had seemed in a long time.

               His mind always traveled back to her face. The desperation in her voice replayed itself.

               She is losing her mind.

 When he compared a lifetime of memories he was only able to see that she was being truthful. Finally the next morning a new nurse came in and found him lying asleep on the chair.

               “Oh you’re still here,” she responded, jumping back slightly. “Did you spend the night?”

               His mother looked over at him, the loving wise woman gone.

               She’s probably most angry at herself.  

               What needed to be done in order to bring the most happiness.

               Or was it based on the value of each individual life.

               “It’s okay.” She repeated to him, as the nurse unhooked her.

               “I’m ready to move on.” She says.

               The nurse remarked “huh?”

               “I’m ready to move on,” she repeated.

               None of this was promised to us. It was given as a matter of fact a gift from god maybe or a happy accident. Maybe beyond she will be much happier. But it is hard to say for sure. So he moves for it.

               Minutes later, he leaves the room weeping. I’ll always remember you.