One Morning, in the Waiting Room….

The female attendant in my ophthalmologist’s office escorted me to the waiting area and helped me ease myself into the typical chromium-plated metal chairs that one sees across hospital waiting rooms. Cold, unfriendly and uncomfortable. No, don’t get me wrong. My eyesight is fine, and has been fine these 65-odd summers. Of course, I do need to wear reading glasses, but that’s quite normal for someone my age, isn’t it? No, the reason I was at the receiving end of such solicitude was that I had had eye drops put into both my eyes to dilate the pupils and the vision having gone hazy, walking across the doctor’s chamber to the lounge area where the chairs were was a bit of a challenge. One didn’t want to go tripping and falling you know. Normally, I am averse to being helped like this in any way, however ‘kindly’ intentioned.

So, there I was, sitting on that chromium-plated chair – one of a long horizontal line of six chairs, kind of fused together to form one row, with an identical set back-to-back. Since it was just after the clinic had opened that morning, there wasn’t much rush and I pretty much had the waiting room all to myself. When I had entered the lounge that morning, there was only Martha, the receptionist in the farther right corner, a pretty, soft-spoken young girl who always managed to make every patient feel instantly at ease. Soft music was playing in the overhead audio system, muted but pleasing to the ears. Waiting for 30 minutes, with your eyes closed, was not easy, especially when you didn’t have anyone to chat with.

I have been on my own for the last twenty years and seven months. One does become exact with dates and months when one is living alone, I have discovered. Three weeks and four days ago Toby, my ginger cat and my steady companion for almost ten years, crossed the Rainbow Bridge to the vast beyond. We used to have great conversations and understood each other really well. I miss Toby, I miss the way he used to curl up on my lap when I watched TV, or the way he threw his head back and enjoyed a nice rub on his neck. My mind went on a stroll down memory lane...

My random musings were broken by the sound of voices. I could hear Martha’s soft voice and two other voices as they seemed to discuss some appointment or the other. The reception area is diagonally behind my chair and I could hear the two voices get closer as the people they belonged to walked to the chairs directly behind mine. They sat some distance away, not exactly right behind me, but close enough for me to catch their conversation. My eyes were still closed and I could not see them. They were a man and a woman. The woman had a clear, refined accent and she seemed to be complaining about something.

“This is the last time, positively the last time, I am going anywhere public with you, Jack. You know what this will do to me, if anyone sees me here with you.” Her voice was low but I could sense the frustration behind it.

The man spoke, and I was startled by the difference in the two tones. It was sharp, slightly coarse, and there was a sneering quality to it when he spoke.

“My dear Gloria, you’ll do exactly as I say and you know it. Now be a good girl and ask the receptionist when this eye doctor is going to see me.”

There was a sharply indrawn breath followed by a silence. I could feel the hairs on the nape of my neck bristle as the silence continued for another ten seconds. Then the woman seemed to have got up and I heard her heels sharply clicking away on the mosaic floor as she went across to Martha. She was back again soon.

“Another 15 minutes, there’s an emergency case that Dr. Julian is attending to right now,” she said tersely.

The man called Jack seemed to find this funny. He chuckled (nastily, I thought). “Emergency, eh? Well, well, the good doctor doesn’t know that this here is an emergency too.” And he chuckled some more.

I suddenly felt sorry for the woman called Gloria. She obviously was here against her will and this coarse man seemed to have some power over her. Inspite of myself, I felt curious. What was going on between them?

Gloria said nothing. I heard the pages of a magazine being flipped, restlessly, as she spent not more than one second on each. She obviously was not reading but just turning the pages to keep her thoughts in control.

Jack stirred again. He probably had his eyes dilated too and closed, like mine, because he suddenly became impatient. “I can’t wait any more. We’ll get late for that…uh, that…meeting.”

It was Gloria’s turn to sneer now. “Is that what you call it? A meeting?” and she gave a short, cynical laugh.

“Look, Gloria, don’t push me, okay,” he growled fiercely. I didn’t see him, but I could feel him looking sideways to see if I was displaying any reaction.

I began to think furiously. This woman was obviously in some trouble and needed help. Could I do something? I groaned inwardly. The dilation seemed never-ending and Martha showed no signs of coming over to me and escorting me back to the doctor’s chamber for the remaining investigations.

I was trapped helplessly in my chromium-plated metal chair as was that man Jack. The only one who seemed free, ironically, was Gloria, but for some unfathomable reason she also seemed chained to her seat and to the obnoxious Jack.

Suddenly, a cell phone rang. I heard a fumbling, a cussing and then Jack spoke into the handset.

“Hello…who…oh, it’s you Arthur…yes, yes, am stuck here at that eye clinic….what? What??” His voice rose harshly.

“Shhh,” hissed Gloria.

Jack lowered his voice hastily but again its pitch rose as he seemed to be getting agitated about something. “Damn you, Arthur, don’t go back on me, not now when everything is falling into place. She is…er...she is here, with me, nothing to worry about.”

Arthur was probably saying something because Jack was silent for a while, but then he erupted again, “To hell with you, Arthur, I’ll get even with you for this.”

Just then, I heard more people enter through the door and they seemed to be headed towards Martha’s corner. There was silence behind me as the phone call seemed to have subtly altered something in the atmosphere.

The new entrants were nosily making their way to the waiting area, where I was. I could make out the voices of a man, a child and an elderly woman.  They were chattering among themselves and came and occupied three seats, about two places from where I was.

Gloria cleared her throat. “So, Jack, this is it,” a quiet triumph in her voice.

Jack spoke sullenly, “I don’t know what you mean. But this time I am letting you go. There will be other occasions,” he added menacingly.

The chained woman laughed, a scornful, mocking, free laugh. “We’ll see, shall we?” I heard her walking away, her heels clicking on the mosaic floor. A door opened and she was gone.

Just then, Martha came up to me, a smile in her voice.

“Hello Mrs. Caxton, the thirty minutes are up. Let’s take you to Dr. Julian now.”

I opened my eyes and blinked rapidly. The blurry images were slowly forming into recognizable shapes and objects. I could see Martha, smartly dressed as always, bending over me.

“Mrs. Caxton? Time to go.”

I looked at her and slowly got up.

I immediately looked at the seats behind me. There was nobody there. Not even Jack.

“Martha,” I clutched her hand. “Where did this man go?”

Martha looked surprised, “Which man, Mrs. Caxton?”

“The man who was sitting behind me, Jack his name was. And there was a woman with him too. Gloria, I think her name was,” I told her.

Martha looked even more puzzled. “Gloria? Jack? Sorry, Mrs. Caxton, but there was no one sitting behind you. You were here all by yourself for all this time. Till these people came in,” she indicated to my left with her head.

I looked at her blankly. A fissure of tension ran through me. Then, a smile came on my face. Some may even call it, maniacal. And some have, you know, in that hospice where I was stuck for twelve long years after Gray left suddenly one night…..

Of course, Jack was dead. I killed him that night in the hospice, but everybody thought it was his heart. I know a thing or two about eye drops, you know. He was always calling me “crazy woman”. And, didn’t I mention it? My name is Gloria. Gloria Caxton.