Brilliant Disguise

Grim and Frostbitten Hearts

3 December 2014

“Ugh, it’s getting worse,” forty-seven-year-old nursing assistant Pepper Baiij groaned as she looked out the panoramic front window of Trinity Retirement Community in Lawrence, Kansas at the blowing snow. “It’s becoming a full-on blizzard. Maybe I should come with you on your outdoor rounds, Mary.”

“Wouldn’t do to have both of us getting lost in the storm, Hon,” sixty-four-year-old security guard Mary Fonseca countered. “You know I wouldn’t feel right if one of the folks wandered out and got lost. I’ll have my phone with me so I can call you if there’s a problem. Listen, the activities department asked me to get the Christmas decorations out of storage and bring them to their appointed spots. If you have time, you can come with me and help.”

“I have time,” Pepper replied. “As far as I’m concerned, I hope I have time all night. This has been a rough couple of years, hasn’t it, Mary? It’s been one year since the flood hit on my birthday in October, and now it’s looking like December is going to be back-to-back blizzards. Happy fucking birthday and merry fucking Christmas.”

“Tell me about it,” Mary agreed. “I’m not going to be a happy camper if we’re stuck here tomorrow. I was hoping to have my gift shopping done by now. I hate the holiday crowds. But Zari threw a wrench in my plans when he decided to die on me last month.”

“Your brother—right. I’m sorry. Holidays haven’t been the same for my family since my dad died. Really, they haven’t been the same since he got sick. Nobody feels much like celebrating.”

“Your dad died around this time of year, didn’t he?”

“Four years ago, tonight.”

“Well, I guess we can be sad sacks together. I know you’ll get this and won’t give me the Morbid Mary lecture or the Come to Jesus lecture. It’s like I said when Zari passed. The ones who die are the lucky ones. Those of us who are still here have to keep suffering.”

“I totally get it,” Pepper agreed. “There wasn’t any wailing and gnashing of teeth when my father died. He’d been declining from the time he had the stroke and fell down the stairs in 2001. During the last two years, his dementia had gotten much worse. He wasn’t himself anymore. He wouldn’t have wanted to go on that way. Still, there’s an empty space where he used to be. He always loved the holidays. He was a devout Catholic, so maybe it’s appropriate that he left the world during his favorite season.”

“Let’s go down to the storage area. Maybe we’ll find something to cheer us up.”

“Yeah, who knows?” Pepper smirked. “It’s probably as close as we’ll get to a Christmas miracle.”

Organized Insomnia

Gigi Hibbert assembled her planners, her calendars, her pens, pouches, and post-its before her on the desk and stood over them like a general surveying maps. It was sizing up to be another sleepless night, and the former schoolteacher supposed that it was a good time to work on her Christmas cards. The wind howled angrily outside the apartment, and when Gigi looked out the window, she could barely see the streetlamps across the way.

Gigi expressed gratitude for her cozy home and said a little prayer in hopes that the power would stay on. She wasn’t sure that the prayer reached anyone, but she couldn’t say that it didn’t either. At a hundred and eleven years of age, she had, as her twenty-seven-year-old great-great-great grand-nephew, Jay Micheal said, seen some shit in her time.

As the oldest resident of Trinity Retirement Community, the city of Lawrence, and the state of Kansas, and one of the oldest citizens of the United States, many friends and family members had passed on before Gigi, and some of them came to visit her.

Gigi supposed that a lot of people thought that she was just a crazy old woman believing that ghosts came to talk to her. Michaela Oakley said that the visitors were demons and that Gigi had best be careful lest she find herself dragged to hell one night.

Gigi shrugged off Michaela’s prattle as stuff and nonsense, although she herself believed in the existence of demons. Michaela was the sort of puritanical old prude who believed that women should not wear trousers, even women whose jobs made the wearing of dresses impractical. Gigi knew full well that the staff at Trinity groaned whenever they received a call from Michaela. Gigi tried not to be the sort of resident who inspired groans from the staff.

As far as Gigi could tell, the staff at Trinity liked her. Pepper, the aide who was working tonight, helped her with her showers on Tuesdays and Thursdays while Qiana helped her on Saturdays. Qiana was a big, bold Southern black girl in her mid-thirties who laughed loud and said what was on her mind.

“You ain’t no bigger than a little birdie, Miz Gigi!” Qiana proclaimed. “Yes ma’am, y’all skin and bones! You promise me you gonna eat hearty at mealtime so’s you don’t up and blow away!”

Pepper was a large white woman in her mid-forties who was clearly uncomfortable with her appearance. She had a round face and her complexion problems led Gigi to believe that Pepper was the kind of person who would never be thin no matter how little she ate. Having talked with Pepper at length, Gigi was aware that people saw it as their business to scold Pepper about how much she ate without knowing how much she really ate.

“People need to mind their business,” Gigi told Pepper one night when Pepper was tucking her into bed. “We all different. You be just fine with me, Honey. Now, you won’t be surprised if old Gigi comes out and chats with you girls later, will you? Don’t go mistakin’ me for no ghost—I ain’t dead yet!”

“If we’re at the desk, you’re always welcome to chat with us,” Pepper invited. “Come on down!”

Fragrant Findings

Pepper and Mary took the elevator to the basement. Both were tasked with doing indoor rounds at night, but Pepper never entered utility rooms or the big storage area where items such as the holiday decorations were kept. The big room had a musty odor that made Pepper feel like an archaeologist entering a tomb or catacomb.

Pepper shivered as the overactive imagination she’d always been derided for kicked in and a movie began playing on the silver screen in her mind. She was no longer Pepper Baiij, dumpy, fat, lonely loser whose job consisted of redirecting confused elderly folk to their apartments and sometimes assisting those who had fallen or were having a medical emergency, but mostly helping folks who couldn’t get to the bathroom in time because their bodies no longer moved well enough or fast enough and their ancient plumbing was leaky.

For a moment, Pepper was no longer the Late-Night Laundry Lady who couldn’t fold a fitted sheet to save her life. She was no longer Pepper of the Routine Clerical Tasks. She was not Bottom of the Barrel Pepper, Wiper of Asses and Circulator of Flyers. She was Dr. Pepper Baiij, Action Archaeologist, a badass fat-ass whom no-one dared give any shit because she had a reputation for kicking ass.

Pepper wished that she could remain in the realm of her imagination where she traveled the world kicking ass, taking names, and making amazing discoveries. Her son and daughter were her assistants on her adventures, and the world was their pearl-plentiful oyster.

Mary’s voice called Pepper back to reality. The catacomb faded, revealing a dusty storage room in the creepy basement at Trinity Retirement Community in Lawrence, Kansas. The room had such an uninspiring vibe that Pepper doubted any ghost would bother with it.

“Nothing ever happens here, Pepper,” the room mocked. “Kind of like your life, right?”

“Come on, let’s get the trees loaded onto this cart,” Mary encouraged. “Oh, and whatever are these fragrant findings?”

“Come again?” Pepper inquired.

“Best to stop your woolgathering, Pep,” the naysayer voice in her head needled. “If you’d put such childish things aside when your parents told you it was time to, you might have managed to do something with your life besides increasing the size of your ass with each passing year.”

“It looks like a bunch of loose fake evergreen branches in baskets,” Mary continued. “They reek of fake pine scent. Smell!”

Pepper took a whiff and immediately started sneezing.

“Sorry,” Mary laughed. “Oh, wait, I think I know what these are. These are those things that they deck the halls with, aren’t they? I’m glad that we don’t have to try and put them up ourselves.”

“Don’t give them any ideas,” Pepper warned. “They already think that night shift has too much time on our hands. We have to fight to keep them from giving us a bunch of busy-work.”

The Flying Future

Gigi turned her television to the History Channel. There was a show about the development of aviation. Gigi was born on December 17, 1902, a year before the Wright Brothers’ first successful flight. She smiled wistfully as the program went over facts that she already knew. She had always been fascinated by aviation and had wanted to be a pilot, but she ended up becoming a teacher.

Gigi’s first classroom in 1925 consisted of just twelve students ranging from kids barely done with potty training to restless teens eager to make their way in an ever-changing world. There was no official classroom aide, but the older kids helped wrangle the younger ones. Gigi stayed in touch with the students from her first classroom through the years and outlived all of them.

Little Guadalupe Profeta, the youngest of Gigi’s charges, died just twelve days ago in Trinity’s long-term care center. Guadalupe’s parents were negligent alcoholics. The little girl was being molested by her uncle. When Gigi protested to authorities that the child needed help, she was told that there was no proof of her accusations and that it was not in the child’s best interest to interfere. At least she had a roof over her head and was not being beaten, they reasoned.

When Guadalupe grew up, she became a nun and devoted her life to helping abused children. Gigi was proud of her student and the two remained close following Guadalupe’s graduation. Gigi became Aunt Gigi, and Guadalupe remained Little Lupe.

Guadalupe died of liver cancer on December 3, 2012, with Gigi by her side.

“Now, don’t be sad, Aunt Gigi,” the ninety-three-year-old Little Lupe admonished. “I’ll be right on the other side waiting, and when you get there, we’ll have us a coffee. It’s you I have to thank for the good life I ended up having. If I didn’t have school to look forward to, I wouldn’t have wanted to live. Some teachers make learning a misery, but you made learning fun, and you fought for those of us who needed fighting for. That’s why when I grew up, I wanted to be just like you.”

“Child, you did me one better,” Gigi countered, kissing Guadalupe’s hand. “You were able to help so many kids. I always felt like I failed you ‘cause I couldn’t get you into a better place.”

“You saved me, Mamacita,” Guadalupe replied, tenderly touching Gigi’s weathered cheek. “You saved me, and I’m gonna be waiting for you in Heaven, at the coffee shop. Adios por momento…solo uno momento.”

Back in the present, Gigi heard a familiar voice behind her.

“Hola, Mamacita Gigi. Can I come in?”

Gigi turned to see Guadalupe as she had appeared at eighteen years old, the day she graduated from high school. Her pupil was surrounded by a bright halo of light.

“Child, you know you welcome anytime,” Gigi responded. “I’ve been expecting you for a while now. What took you so long?”

“You know me,” Guadalupe laughed. “Always running late. Shall we go for that coffee now?”

Procellous Ponderings

“Let’s get this fusion forest of jelly junipers upstairs,” Pepper ordered as she and Mary loaded the last baskets of loose branches onto a pair of utility carts. “The sooner we disperse them to their proper locales, the sooner we can get to sofa surfing.”

“This one’s heavy!” Mary remarked, stumbling forward as she plopped the basket on the cart with a clang. “I wonder what’s hiding at the bottom. You know, Pepper, you have a real way with words. I’d like to read your writing sometime.”

“Maybe,” Pepper hedged. “I tend to be shy when it comes to showing my work to the people I know. In person, I’m a woman of few words, but when it comes to writing, I’m guilty of prolixity. I’ve been told that my work is too heavy-handed. I don’t mean to sound haughty, but I want to write what I feel in my soul, not meaningless crap that I churn out in seconds to make a buck. Sadly, with my unwillingness to jump into the fray of what’s popular, I don’t foresee myself getting lucky on the money front in my lifetime. Maybe I’ll end up with posthumous fame like my literary hero, H.P. Lovecraft.”

“I’ve never read Lovecraft,” Mary admitted. “Thinking about heebie-jeebies lurking in the shadows when I’m doing my rounds would make me a basket case.”

“We are a couple of basket cases. Look at all these baskets!”

Mary smirked.

“Let’s get the festive décor to its stations,” Pepper repeated. “Then we can grab a coffee and sit down. Lord, help me make it through the night! I’m feeling tired and run down like nobody’s business.”

“Girl, you and me both,” Mary commiserated. “I remember when I was a little kid. We’d go picking wild strawberries in the early part of summer. It’s so long ago now that it seems like it happened to someone else.”

“I look back on my childhood and think what a selfish little shit I was,” Pepper mused as the elevator started its ascent. “I wish I’d been more grateful for what I had instead of feeling sorry for myself for what I didn’t have.”

The elevator doors opened onto the main floor. The panorama window revealed snow whipping on the wind in a wave pattern.

“The weather’s procellous,” Pepper noted.

“Pro-what?” Mary inquired.

“Procellous. It means stormy, as in the sea. Of course, we’re not at sea, but the way the snow’s blowing, it looks like waves whipping up.”

“I don’t know, Pep. I think we may be at sea. Anyway, I feel out at sea without a paddle most of the time.”

Farewell

After dropping the festive decorations at their appointed places, Pepper and Mary returned to the first floor. Pepper spotted Gigi walking towards her apartment. She called out a greeting, but the old woman didn’t respond.

“Gigi must be lost in thought,” Pepper noted. “Usually, her ears are sharp as can be.”

“Well, my eyes aren’t sharp as can be. I didn’t even see her. Let’s go pay her a visit.”

Pepper knocked softly on Gigi’s door. Hearing no answer, she opened the door slowly.

“Gigi?” she called out. “It’s Pepper and Mary. We were putting out Christmas decorations, but we’re back now.”

“Pepper!”

Hearing the urgency in Mary’s voice, Pepper turned to look.

Clad in her favorite kimono, Gigi sat in her recliner. At first glance, she appeared to be asleep, but Pepper and Mary could see that she wasn’t breathing.

Tears flowed from Pepper’s eyes as she gently clasped the venerable lady’s hand.

“Godspeed, Miss Gigi,” she whispered.

It was two hours into the next shift before Pepper and Mary were finally able to head home. By then the snow had let up. The coroner cleared the funeral home to take Gigi’s body away. There was a shadow over Trinity Retirement community although the sun had broken through the clouds.

“We shouldn’t be sad, I suppose,” Pepper remarked to Mary. “She slipped out peacefully in her sleep. I wish my dad could have gone that way instead of hanging on for years in a slow decline.”

“Yeah,” Mary agreed. “Zari too. Girl, did you really see Gigi?”

“Clear as I see you right now.”

“Pepper, you always say you’re boring, but there’s much more to you than meets the eye.”

“I wear a brilliant disguise and still waters run deep. Beware the undertow.”

“If you say so,” Mary laughed.

“Come on, let’s get out of here. Then we can come back in eight hours and do it all again. My mother thinks that Earth may be purgatory, and I must admit, I kind of believe her. Ah well, who knows what joys await us tonight? I’ll see you later, Mary.”

Pepper took a tentative step onto the icy sidewalk and slowly made her way to her car to begin the precarious journey to her dilapidated mobile home.

Acknowledgments

Brilliant Disguise is a 1987 song by Bruce Springsteen.

Help Me Make It Through the Night is a 1970 song by Kris Kristofferson.

Prompts

Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie

First Line Friday

https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2021/01/15/first-line-friday-january-15th-2021/

*Music Challenge: Help Me Make It Through the Night

https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2021/01/08/help-me-make-it-through-the-night-challenge-173/

*Sunday Writing Prompt: Getting Lucky

https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2021/01/10/sunday-writing-prompt-10th-january-getting-lucky/

*Tale Weaver: Basket Case

https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2021/01/07/tale-weaver-309-7th-january-a-basket-case/

*Tale Weaver: Tired and Run Down

https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2021/01/14/tale-weaver-310-tired-and-run-down-14th-january/

Wordle

https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2021/01/11/wordle-222/

Haughty

Branches

Procellous- stormy, as the sea

Prolixity- a tendency to speak or write at great or tedious length

Touch

Stumble

Throat

Wild Strawberries

Heavy

Fray

Kimono

Seconds

October Spooky Writing Challenge: Disguise

https://thewritershandbook.tumblr.com/post/630699213481705472/this-years-october-spooky-writing-challenge-is

Putting my Feet in the Dirt

http://puttingmyfeetinthedirt.com

Reedsy

https://blog.reedsy.com/creative-writing-prompts/

Start your story with someone looking out at the snow and end it with them stepping tentatively onto a frozen surface.

Write about someone who gets stuck in their workplace during a blizzard and decides to explore rooms they aren’t normally allowed in.