ODD NUMBERS

by M. Grace Bernardin

  “Well, maybe my Alex could stand in as the doctor. He used to want to be one, you know. Maybe he still does. I’m never quite sure what goes on in his mind anymore.”

  “There they are: doctor, lawyer, Indian chief,” said Sally as they spied the strange trio through the glass doors of the hospital’s main entrance. The automatic doors opened when Sally and Allison stepped onto the transit. They hurried through to get out of the cold, and brought with them a wintry blast of north wind so strong it blew Bobby’s long hair and ruffled Tim’s neck tie.

  “There they are,” said Tim with a smile.

  “You ready?” Sally said blowing on her hands and rubbing them together rapidly to warm them.

  “I believe so,” said Tim. He then turned his attention to his two comrades and addressed them. “Remember gentlemen,” was all he said as he shot a knowing glance at Bobby first then Alex. Both of them gave Tim a quick nod in response. The three quickly stationed themselves around the hope chest then solemnly, almost ceremoniously, with as few words as possible; the way men so often do when working toward a common goal, they each grabbed a side of the rectangular shaped chest, lifted it and began moving toward the elevator.

  Sally walked ahead of the men with a quick purposeful stride, striking her realtor pose as if she was getting ready to walk them through the Taj Mahal. Allison walked along side Alex who, with furrowed brow, was concentrating very hard on supporting his end of the chest.

  “What did Mr. Schultz mean when he said ‘remember gentlemen’ to you guys?” Allison asked in as quiet of a voice as possible.

  “He just told us that if anybody looks at us suspiciously to keep moving and act like we know what we’re doing; and if anybody asks us why we’re carrying this thing through the hospital we’re to let him speak, ‘cause you know he’s a lawyer and stuff,” Alex replied in voice just above a whisper. Allison had to smile to herself the way this whole thing had become an adventure for Alex.

  Some people eyed the three males and their cargo curiously while others seemed to mind their own business and walk right by. They made it up to Vicky’s floor with no interference other than a few strange looks. But then suddenly, there she was. She emerged from the nurses’ station just directly across the hall from Vicky’s room. This nurse was not a big woman but you didn’t have to look too far beyond her diminutive stature to see the authority she commanded. She was the quintessential larger than life head nurse, the alpha caregiver for the unit, the omnipresent protector of all in her charge.

  “Excuse me,” the nurse said approaching the band of sojourners. True to Tim’s instructions, the three men just kept forging forward. “Excuse me,” she tried again. “May I help you?”

  “Thanks very much, Ma’am, but I believe we got everything under control,” Tim said.

  “Excuse me, but where are you going with that,” she said persisting, her eye more on chief Bobby than the rest.

  “We’re taking it to a patient. Excuse me, you’ll want to move out of the way Ma’am, this thing is wide and extremely heavy,” Tim said as they maneuvered the chest at an angle to get it into Vicky’s room. Sally held the door open for them and they walked right through with the nurse following.

  “Do you have permission to bring that in here?” The head nurse said as the band of visitors huddled into the room while she successfully blocked the door in a manner that would make Sally envious. All the while Vicky, who was sitting up in a chair, looked on watching the whole scene play out before her, first with a look of shock and confusion on her face then bemusement as it became more clear what was going on.

  “We do,” Tim answered abruptly and confidently.

  “I’d like to know who gave you permission and for what purpose.”

  “I can’t reveal that information to you. To do so would be a breach of doctor/patient confidentiality.”

  “Are you aware she’s sharing a room and there’s limited space in here. We can’t operate around this big piece of furniture.”

  “Not to worry. We’re simply going to empty the contents and take it back with us when we leave.”

  “I can’t imagine who would give you permission to bring this in here.”

  “It concerns her Native American heritage Ma’am, a ritual similar to the white man’s version of reading the last will and testament.” It was Bobby who spoke this time, his manner so calm and serious it would have convinced anybody. “This is her lawyer. He’s here to make sure everything’s in order.”

  “That’s correct. If you insist we remove this chest you’ll be infringing on her religious rights. I suggest you call her primary physician, the chaplain, and her social worker. They’ll confirm what we’ve just told you.” Tim spoke with such confidence he almost convinced Allison for a moment.

  A brief stand off occurred where the nurse stood with folded arms and attempted to stare down first Tim then Bobby. Finally with a sigh of defeat she bade them to do what they had to do as quickly as possible and get that thing out of there.

  “Nurse Ratched lives!” Tim said and everyone let go a laugh of relief.

  “Tim Schultz! Well, if you aren’t the smooth talking ambulance chaser I remember from years gone by.”

  “Yes, some things never change,” Allison said giving him a skeptical squint as she tried to size him up. At the same time she couldn’t help admire him and the way he handled the busy body nurse.

  “That was fast thinking Mr. Chief!” Sally said to Bobby.

  “It’s Bobby,” Bobby and everyone else replied in unison.

  “Sorry, I just drew a blank,” Sally said.

  “Yeah, but Mr. Chief? Sounds like one of the hand puppets from Mister Roger’s Neighborhood. Or some kid’s action figure that might come with a Happy Meal,” Allison said, feeling suddenly flippant, like she was back at Camelot exchanging barbs with her old friends

  “Kind of sounds like the name of somebody’s pet St. Bernard to me,” said Tim.

  “I was thinkin’ professional wrestler,” said Vicky.

  “So what brings you here?” Vicky asked Tim. “You’re not gonna try and talk me into suing somebody, are ya?”

  “Naw! My motives are completely honorable. Chief Bobby and I talked and I want to offer my services–pro bono. I’d like to help you draw up a living will and maybe I can talk to your social worker about finding you some place to stay after you leave here.”

  Vicky said nothing, only looked down at the floor with a sad far-away expression.

  “You’d do that for me? No strings attached,” she finally said.

  “Not exactly,” replied Tim.

  “Uh-oh! Here it comes. What do I got to do?”

  “Take the first step. Take it for real this time.”

  “What d’ya mean?”

  “Are you ready to admit that you’re powerless over alcohol and that your life has become unmanageable?” Tim said bending down and leaning in toward Vicky, who sat like a small frightened child in her chair, with the most solemn expression on her face Allison had ever seen.

  “Oh, that step. As in twelve steps,” Vicky said.

  “You know I’m just like you and Bobby here,” Tim said. “I’m a drunk and a druggie. You know, you’ve seen me at meetings over the years.”

  “I know. I always tried to avoid you.”

  “The doctor said if you stay sober for at least six months they’ll put you on a waiting list for a liver transplant. But you gotta want it, man,” Bobby said.

  “A new liver, a new life,” Vicky said with an enigmatic smile. She looked far away again, her eyes focused up and out towards the corner of the room, as if she was searching the ceiling panels for the answer. “I do want it and I have taken the first step. It’s the second step that gets me into trouble. Is there really a power great enough to save me from myself?”

  “You’ve already taken one step. You just have to take one more step forward and believe,” said Bobby.

  “A step into the darkness,” Vicky said.

>   Allison listened and it seemed so did Sally and Alex.

  “Have you finally hit bottom,” Tim said.

  “I guess I got a high tolerance for hitting bottom, but I think I finally feel the hard ground under my bruised ass,” said Vicky.

  “Then you got nothin’ to lose,” said Bobby.

  “You got that right. What haven’t I lost? I got no home, no job, no money, no self respect, not even any dang teeth, and only a half a functioning liver. Yeah, I’d say I finally hit bottom. I’ve lost everything.”

  “You haven’t lost everything Vicky,” Allison said. “You’ve still got friends.”

  “Yes, wonderful old friends,” Vicky said as she looked teary-eyed at Allison. “And I hope a new young friend if he can forgive me,” Vicky said looking at Alex.

  “You mean me?” Alex said completely caught off guard.

  “Yeah, I mean you.”

  “I forgive you,” said Alex shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly as if to shrug off the intensity of the moment and his inability to know how to react to it.

  “My God, you look like your daddy!” Vicky said.

  “Really? Most people can’t figure out who I look like,” Alex said with a self-conscious chuckle.

  “You even sound like him.”

  “Thanks… I guess.”

  “Do you like music and numbers like your daddy too?”

  “Well, I like music but I don’t have any talent. My little sister got that. My big brother’s the math whiz.”

  “What do you like?”

  “Playing video games, listening to my ipod, hanging out with my friends.”

  “No, I mean in school. What’s your favorite subject? And you can’t say lunch or recess,” Vicky persisted.

  “P.E. I like sports.”

  “Cool! What else?”

  “Science… I guess. I’m taking biology this year. Next year chemistry. I like the experiments.”

  “Oh, a hand’s on kinda guy,” said Vicky.

  “When he was little he used to say he wanted to be a doctor when he grew up,” Allison added.

  “Is that so? Uh-oh, we better lay off, Allison. His face is turning all red. I think we put him on the spot. I’ll take the heat off you kid and put it back on me where it belongs. I got something I just gotta say to you.” Vicky held her hand out toward Alex and he grasped it without hesitating.

  “Listen, what I did was a real stupid thing. It was a selfish thing. Now that I’m sober and my head’s cleared up I can see that. I wish I could talk to every kid and tell’ em to stay on the right path but I can’t. I’m lucky enough to talk to just one kid though, and I gotta chance to make something right with that so I hope you’ll hear me out.” Alex nodded and appeared to be listening intently.

  “Now, I could give you a big lecture and tell you to just say no to alcohol and drugs, but that don’t work and you know it. Sayin’ no to something ain’t enough. You gotta find something to say yes to. I can’t tell you what that is. You gotta figure it out yourself. Promise me you’ll find something to say yes to; something decent, honorable, and true; something way bigger than making yourself feel good. Promise me that, ‘cause I don’t want to see anyone end up like me.”

  “I promise,” Alex said in a surprisingly strong voice.

  “You look like your daddy, but you got your mama’s heart. I can see that in your eyes,” Vicky said before she gave his hand a squeeze and released it.”

  “I know this comes as a shock to you, but she meant it as a compliment,” Allison said to the speechless and self-conscious Alex.

  “So what do you say we open this chest and find out what’s inside before Nurse Ratched gets back with the security guards,” Sally said.

  “I’ve got your key right here,” Allison said grasping the key which now hung around her neck. “I hope you don’t mind I wore it today. I was afraid I’d lose it in my purse,” she said lifting the silver chain up over her head.

  “I don’t mind. Thank you for taking care of it,” Vicky said as Allison handed her the chain and key. “And thank you Sally for taking care of the chest.”

  “I was happy to do it,” Sally said.

  “You do the honors,” Tim said as he and Bobby pushed the chest closer to her chair.

  Vicky’s hand trembled slightly as she put the key into the tarnished lock and turned it. Bobby and Alex helped her lift the heavy lid. Immediately the smell of mothballs, cedar, and a faint trace of cigarettes filled the room.

  “Smells like grandma’s,” Vicky said her eyes filling with tears. She began to sort through the contents: colorful quilts, afghans, a set of needle pointed throw pillows. Each item was held up and displayed as Allison and Sally marveled at the beauty and care of each piece. In the middle, carefully wrapped in old newspaper was a pewter bread tray and water pitcher.

  “I knew there was something besides just cloth in there,” Tim said with a chuckle as Vicky presented the pewter items.

  In the bread tray were recipe cards, bound by an old rubber band that snapped in half the moment Vicky undid the thing.

  “Her pumpkin bread recipe,” Vicky said wiping her eyes and nose with a tissue.

  She came to the last few items–a shawl, a sweater, and some knit scarves.

  “Sorry about the smell, y’all. I need to air this stuff out,” she said holding a sweater up, folding it, and placing it neatly on the pile in front of her.

  “My grandma was way into keeping warm,” Vicky said. She hated the cold weather, always said she wanted to move to Florida. Oh, Lord, look at this!” Vicky held up an orange ball of yarn and a pair of knitting needle, still attached to the one was a shapeless swath of tightly knit gold, brown, orange, and maroon yarn. “Grandma was trying to teach me how to knit. I started this when I was about fourteen, and as you can see, I didn’t get very far. It was supposed to be a scarf.”

  “I like the colors,” said Allison. “You gonna finish it?”

  “I don’t know,” Vicky said holding up the knitting needle with the swath of autumn colored yarn.

  “I believe Grandma Dooley is sending you a message. She’s trying to tell you to finish what you started,” said Bobby.

  “You may be bossing me around now, Bobby, but don’t forget I used to outrun and out climb you as a kid.”

  “Maybe so, but who used to help you down when you got stuck in a tree?”

  “Here to talk me down again,” Vicky said tenderly looking first at Bobby then everyone in the room. “Maybe God really is giving me a second chance at life.”

  “Looks like you got a note in there,” Alex said pointing to an envelope marked “Vicky Lee”. The small square shaped envelope was still astonishingly white, un-yellowed and untouched by nicotine and years of confinement in the cedar chest.

  “And something else. Looks like that might be the last item,” Sally said looking at the contents in the bottom of the chest. There underneath the envelope lay something wrapped in tissue paper and tied about with a blue bow. Vicky reached in and picked up the envelope.

  “From your grandmother?” Allison asked. Vicky nodded her blurred eyes and reddened nose about to erupt again with all those years of locked in emotion.

  “Do you want us to leave the room while you read that?” Tim asked.

  “Maybe you ought to,” Vicky nodded. “Except for Allison,” she called out as everyone shuffled toward the door.

  “You want me to stay?” Allison asked and Vicky nodded in the affirmative.

  “You sure?”

  “I’m sure.”

  “I’ll come and get you when she’s finished,” Allison said to Tim on his way out the door.

  “And Tim…” Allison called out to him in the hall. “Thank you!”

  Allison closed the door and pulled up a chair near Vicky. Vicky’s hands trembled as she worked slowly and deliberately to open the envelope. She opened the folded sheet of paper contained within and smiled through tear drenched eyes.

  “It’s dated January,
1975. My eighteenth birthday,” Vicky said.

  She began to read aloud, her eyes moving back and forth on the page, pausing periodically when the emotions got the better of her.

  Dear Vicky Lee,

  I know you’re a young lady now and it’s been some years since you come to believe on the Lord Jesus Christ. I know it’s been a hard year what with losing your mama and putting up with your daddy and his troubles. Then to make it all worse you had that terrible accident. I look at your pretty face and every time I see that scar, I think there’s a scar inside your heart that no one can see.

  I know you’re angry at the Lord and you blame him for your troubles. I don’t know why we have troubles in this life. I don’t know why sometimes you pray and it seems like the Lord hears your prayers and everything goes just fine. And other times it seems like he don’t hear you at all. I don’t know why that is. I only know he’s weeping with you and he sees that scar in your heart that no one else sees. I believe if you trust in him it’ll turn out fine in the end. Look at his only son. Not even death could keep him down. But you have to trust and you have to come back to the Lord.

  I know you’re angry at your daddy. I’d like to take a strap to him myself but he’s a grown man and he’s made his own decisions. All the same I’m asking you to pray for him. Don’t give up hope. It’s never too late.

  This here was supposed to be your birthday present. But then I got to thinking about it and figured you might think I was nagging you or pushing you if I gave it to you now. I decided to put it in your hope chest because it can be used as a wedding dress. But that ain’t why I made it. I made it for your baptism. That’s my prayer–that you get baptized and return to the Lord. I will always love you, in this life and the next.

  God Bless You and Keep You,

  Grandma Dooley

  By the end of the letter, both Allison and Vicky were grabbing for the tissue box, Allison sobbing silently and Vicky wailing out loud in her crazy, demented way.

  “I don’t know why that letter touched me so. I know it wasn’t for me. But still,” Allison said. The two women held each other and took turns comforting each other.