Eating Prayers

“Dr. Rabine?  Yes, I’m Morris Yarborough.” He smiles as Dr. Rabine ushers him to the chair in his office, “I was expecting a couch.”

“Very funny.  They warned me you had a sense of humor.” He shook his head as Morris sat in the ugly plain cushioned chair.  The walls were paneled with diplomas and certificates cluttering one of the walls, but other than that the office was sparsely furnished. “I’m glad you decided to come.”

“I almost didn’t.” Morris looked down at his worn out sneakers.

“Well, I’m glad you decided to come.” Dr. Rabine coughed and wheeled his swivel chair next to the chair Morris was sitting in. “The police told me what happened, but I need you to describe the events.  I am going to turn on the recorder.  Is that alright?” 

Morris shook his head.  Dr. Rabine turned on the recording device.  

The following is a transcript of his testimony with a warning that some of the content may be disturbing to some listeners:

My name is Morris Yarborough. Four months ago,  I graduated from community college with a certificate in counseling.  I spent three years studying social behavioral sciences at Payne Community College so when I accepted the position with the St. Milo’s City Shelter, I felt as though I was ready for anything, but I was wrong. Oh man, I was so wrong.  My first week at the shelter things went pretty much as planned.  Some of the people had problems that needed to be addressed by a professional like yourself.

(Dr. Rabine nods, but does not comment) 

I would serve the people dinner and then I would sit down at a table and we’d chat about this and that.  It was all copesetic.  We’d talk about how the cops get a kick out of busting up their homeless shelters and chasing them waving their night sticks.  Some of them think that everyone who is unshoused is a crackhead. It ain’t so, doc.  Some of them are college graduates like me even.  Most of them have spent some time in jail and yes some of them do partake in illegal drugs, but most of them are just plain old regular folks.

After my first week, I was feeling pretty good about myself. Sal Marlano, who is in charge of the place, told me I was fitting right in with the rest of the crew.  Sal is alright, by the way.  He knows when to be a boss and when to give you a little leeway.  The rest of the crew think the world of him.  Wendy, one of the servers, told me that he helps her keep sober and she has received her year chip thanks to him.  We got Leon and Tony working the kitchen.  Both of them have been with the shelter for over ten years.  Sal went to AA meetings with both of them and told me he trusts them like a brother.

(pauses)

The first time I saw her, she was sitting all by herself near the front door. I didn’t think much about it at first until I heard Wendy announce, “Oh Alma, you’re back?” 

“Yes, dear, I am.” She nodded.  She was wearing a filthy print blouse, but most of the people who came in weren’t clean either after spending the day panhandling out on the street.  Her face had not aged well as her lips were pressed against her toothless jaw while her nose jutted out into a beak curving over her colorless lips.  Wearing an overcoat that hung over her shapeless wizened frame, Alma did not look at anyone as she ate her dinner from her tray.  What shocked me was when she picked up the plastic cup she had filled with water and took a healthy bite out of it.  Even without the benefit of a mouth full of teeth, she crunched on the piece of plastic without emotion.  It wasn’t until I saw her mouth smeared with blood, I became concerned. 

Upon hearing the commotion, Sal appeared from his tiny office, “Hey there Alma.  You can’t stay here, you know.  Not after the last time.” He laid down his ultimatum with his fists resting on the table where she was sitting.  

“Can I finish my dinner?” She replied in a meek voice.

“Yeah,  but then you gotta be leavin.’” Sal insisted.  It was the first time I had ever seen him become short with a person.  

“I will.” She muttered in his wake as he returned to his office.

“Morris, you must understand.” Wendy pulled me aside after seeing the apprehension of my facial expression. “Alma has cause trouble in the past.”

She made sure she was out of Alma’s earshot as she confided in me.

“Yeah, but-”

“Morris, there are things about her you do not understand.” Wendy assured me as I focused on the old lady sitting all alone.

“She seems harmless.” I shrugged.

“She’s not.” Wendy glanced over at her, “And you best keep your distance from Alma Applegate.  Wendy went over to Alma and handed her a cloth to wipe her bloody mouth.

“Thank you dear.” She smiled a bloody smile.

“You’d better be on your way once you have cleaned yourself.” Wendy insisted.  I could not take my eyes off Alma.  

What could she have done that was so awful?

“I see you met Alma.” Leon smiled as I walked into the kitchen.

“Yeah, I did.” 

“She’s to be avoided if you know what’s good for you.” Tony continued to mop the floor making it slippery to walk on. 

“What’s the big deal?” I asked.

“You don’t really want to know.” Leon chuckled as he looked through the kitchen window as Alma brushed herself off before exiting the shelter.

“You make me want to find out even more.” I undid my apron. 

“I’d wait a few minutes in case that old bat hovers for a few minutes before pushing off to wherever she’s headed to.” Leon nodded as I hung up my apron.

“You guys are freaking me out.” I put my hands on my hips.

“Better safe than sorry.” Tony flopped his web mop on the floor.

“Hey, Paracicci, not so much bleach.”  Sal emerged from his office holding his nose.

“Sure, sure, Sal.” Tony gave his mop one last sweep of the floor.

“De Palma.  Not so much salt.  I’ve got some complaints.” Sal hung up his clipboard.

“Tell ‘em to go eat at the Golden Toga.” Leon shook his head.

“Is that weird-bag gone?” Sal peered through the kitchen window into the dining area.

“She got on her broom and is riding the skies.” Tony laughed.

“Not so funny.” Sal pointed a finger at Tony as he walked out the door.

“She freaks him the heck out.” Tony emptied the bucket of dirty water in the industrial sink.  

“I wish you’d guys would tell me what her big sin was.” 

“Maybe one day, you will be lucky enough to see for yourself.” Leon said as I walked out the door. 

(Dr. Rabine stops the tape)

“So, what did you make of things?” Dr. Rabine asks 

“At first I thought she was just some harmless deranged old lady. You see them all the time.  Old ladies who carry on a conversation with people who aren’t there.” Morris runs his hand through his bushy hair. “But she would come in about once a week and I hear her talking to herself.  It was when I started paying attention I noticed she was actually talking to someone.”

“You were warned not to engage with this woman, right?” 

“Oh sure, many times by Sal and the others.  Even the regulars warned me to stay clear of her.” 

“But you didn’t listen?”

“No, doctor I didn’t.” Morris shook his head, “It’s like being told not to do something and of course it’s the first thing you want to do.” 

“Yes, it’s all part of human nature, isn’t it?” He smiled, adding, “I’m going to turn on the machine again.” 

“How are you doing today, Alam?” I would ask her as I passed by.

“Eating prayers.” She would answer and then resume talking to her invisible companion, but one time I caught a whiff of something that nearly made me gag. I know a lot of people who come in do not have access to running water, but this odor was overwhelmingly strong.  

“Mrs. Applegate is ripe.” I told Leon and Tony.  They looked at each other.  

“Better tell Sal.” Tony tapped on the closed office door.

Sal opened the door and stared at Tony, “Yeah?”

“Alma smells.” Tony simply said.

Sal’s face had the expression that he had seen a ghost. “Ya kiddin’?” 

“It’s what Morris said.” Tony pointed at me. 

Sal glared at me, “What did she smell like?” 

“It was bad.” I shook my head, adding, “Like some rotten pulled from the mud.” 

“Aw geese.” He closed his eyes, “Better call the police.” 

“Why?” I asked. 

“Kid, just take it from me, it’s what we do when she has that odor about her.” Sal began to dial his office phone.  “Yeah, this is Sal Marlano at the shelter.  Could you send a couple of patrolmen here.  Alma has that odor again.” 

In less than ten minutes, two uniformed patrolmen walked into the shelter.  I watched as Alma Applegate froze like a statue.  

“Hello Alma, how are you tonight?” One of the officers asked. 

“F-f-fine.” She stuttered. 

“Have you been taking any nightly strolls?” The other officer asked after grimacing when he got a whiff of her.

“No.” She said with certainty, “I’ve been camping down by the river.” 

“Is that a fact?” The first officer shrugged. 

“Yes officers.” Her eyes shot back and forth between them like a ping-pong ball. 

“How about we go have a talk with Dr. North?” The second officer suggested.

“Ah-noooo. That won’t be necessary.” She put her hands over her eyes.

“I think we need to.” The first officer looked at his partner and then back at Alma, “If not I will have to put these handcuffs on.” 

“No, no, I’ll go.” Her voice was like a small child as she shook her head. 

I didn’t see her for about three weeks, but when she did come in, she walked right up to me, “You!  You told them.” 

She shook a gnarled finger at me.

“Told them what?” 

“That I had an odor. Dr. North had me admitted, because of you.” She huffed. 

“I said something, because you had an awful odor.” I explained.

“You don’t know.” She snapped, “Mind your own business.” 

She sat down and I continued on my way. 

“Don’t let her bother you, Morris.” Wendy said into my ear as I passed.

“What is the problem?”

“Believe me, you don’t want to know.” Wendy said as I continued to pass into the kitchen. 

I did want to know. Everyone got nervous when she started talking about eating prayers.  Wendy told me she was once a devout Roman Catholic who had aspirations of becoming a num, but then her  Borderline Personality Disorder became more chronic until she had to be hospitalized. If I was to believe what she told me, Alma Applegate murdered a suitor after he got handsy with her.  She cut him up with a butcher knife, put his remains in a garbage bag, and dumped him in the river.  Sal seemed to collaborate with Wendy's story.

“So kid, don’t mess with her, you got that?” He told me behind his closed office door. 

“She talks to ghosts.” Tony admitted. “Of course she’s the only one who can see ‘em.” 

I even called Dr. North, but he informed me of the confidentiality laws between doctor and patient, but then as I was about to hang up the phone, I heard him utter, “Don’t talk to her when she’s eating prayers.”  

(Dr. Rabine turns off the recorder) 

“Morris, I have her records on my computer screen.” He sighs, “All I can say is she was very ill.”

“I gathered that much.” Morris closes his eyes. “What happened after that was beyond anything I hope to ever be a part of again.” 

“I am sorry you had to experience that.” He shook his head, “When she was discharged from the psychiatric hospital last month, she was medicated and had demonstrated she was capable of resuming a normal life.” 

“Why did she keep coming back to St. Milo’s City Shelter if she had her own place?” 

“She was lonely.  She wanted company.” Dr. Rabine answered with a simple nod.

“But she never talked to anyone.” 

“Sometimes it’s just being in the vicinity of other people that makes a difference.” He shook his head, “Alright, let’s finish this up.”

“Oh, I hate to remember that night.” Morris groaned.

“It’s all part of the healing process.” He smiled as he flicked the switch on.

The final night she came in, Sal was in a mood and Tony and Leon were goofing off.  It was a slow night until she crossed the threshold. I could tell just by the way she entered the shelter that something was wrong.  Wendy asked me if I’d help her.  I agreed.

“You again?” She snapped, “I am here to eat my prayers.” 

“What does that mean? When you are eating your prayers?” I wanted to ask, but thought better of it. 

“You know just what to say.” She said it loud enough to make me turn around. “Tonight, I will come and free you.” 

“She’s talking about freeing someone.” I informed Wendy.

Her face went white and her eyes bulged out, “We got to have Sal call for the police.” 

“Are you sure?” I asked, “She will just finish her dinner and be on her way.  No harm done.” 

“I wish I could agree with you.” She shook her head. “Did she mention eating prayers?”

“Not that I heard.” I lied.

“If she does, we have to call right away.” Wendy exhaled as if holding her breath had caused her discomfort. 

“I will.” I returned to Alam’s table.

“What do you want?” She growled.

“Nothing.  Just checking on you.” I nodded.

“Leave me be.” She snarled.

“If you need anything, I’ll be right over there.” I pointed to the counter where I usually hung out until I was needed. 

“You do that.” She tilted her head, “I shall be fine.” 

When she stood up to leave, I decided I would follow her in the shadows and find out what she was up to. I have wished a thousand times that I didn’t do that. But once the Rubicon is crossed there is no going back.

She walked three blocks before we came to the cemetery.  The gate was locked, but she put her hands on the sturdy barrier, closed her eyes and uttered a few words. With a flash of light like lightning, the lock opened and the chain rattled against the iron bars. I would find out later, there had been a funeral earlier in the afternoon.  She walked to where the freshly dug dirt was piled over the new grave. 

From the safety of the hedges, I watched as she spread her arms.  The ground began to shake like an earthquake and just like that the earth opened up the newly dug grave. 

“It is so good to see you.” I heard her proclaim as she was joined by a man in a suit.  Stunned into silence, I watched as the corpse came to life in front of my eyes.

“Thank you for setting me free.” He said as they embraced.

“We shall be together before you depart for eternity.” She proclaimed. “I feel the presence of someone.” 

“Who?” The man from the grave asked.

“I will find out.” She withdrew a knife from her jacket pocket. For an awful moment, I felt as if she could see me hiding in the bushes.  I muffled a cry as she began to search for the intruder. “Come out.  Do not let me have to find you.  If I have to search, I will make this slow and painful for you.”

Begging for a miracle seemed too much to ask for, but then the lightning came sizzling from the sky and set her on fire with her knife still raised with murderous intent. She shook as the fatal electricity ran her from head to toe.  The only thing left was her flaming corpse.  I watched it burn and crumble.  Her resurrected companion groaned and fell back into his grave.  

(Dr. Rabine turned off the recorder)

“So in a flash of lightning, the nightmare ended?” Dr. Rabine inhaled.

“Yes.” Morris snickered, “It explained the horrid odor.”

“It does however begged the questions, what happened to Mr. Ronald Hopkins?” Dr. Rabine asked.

“Who?” Morris shook his head.

“The man you saw come out of his grave, his name was Ronald Hopkins.” Dr. Rabine answered. 

“I don’t understand.” 

“You told me when Alma Applegate was killed by the lightning, he fell back into his grave.” Dr. Rabine nodded.

“He did.”

“The police report does not seem to agree with your eye witness report.” He shook his head.

“What?”

“I can only report what I’ve been told.” He shrugged.

“Hmm, I could have sworn he fell when she burned.” Morris found it hard to get the words out.

“Well, who knows, right?”

Morris left Dr. Rabine’s office with a strange feeling in his stomach as he walked to his car in the parking lot.  He had a strange feeling he was being followed and when he turned suddenly, he caught the glimpse of a shadow.  Was it a shadow or was it something else?  When he got into his car, he turned the key to start the engine.  Another shadow with no origin.  He said a prayer as he pulled out of the parking lot.