The Eyes of the Doe

by Patricia Taylor Wells

  “You go on in,” I said. “It’s about to pour. I’ll be there as soon as I find a parking space.”

  Holly waited for me in the lobby. During the day, it buzzed with a steady stream of patients, medical staff, and visitors. At night, with fewer people around, it appeared much larger. Bright fluorescent lights flooded the open floor plan much like the sun did each afternoon.

  Up ahead, the elevator doors closed, prompting us to take the stairs to the second floor instead of waiting for another car.

  “That’s the sister of the young cancer patient in room 211,” one nurse whispered to another as we walked past the nurse’s station on the way to Jake’s room.

  “Such a shame,” her companion murmured, glancing up from a patient chart.

  Holly walked faster, outpacing me by several feet.

  By the time I got to Jake’s room, she had already gone inside. I stayed at the doorway to give her a moment with her family. The room was ghostly quiet. Ross was sitting in a chair close to Jake’s bed. He was reading a book in the dim light of a floor lamp. He glanced over my way, but didn’t acknowledge he had seen me. Jewell was asleep on her cot and Jake appeared to be dozing as well.

  As I stepped into the room, the paper sack Holly had carried into the room began to slip from her hand. Jake rose to a sitting position when he heard it crackle as Holly caught it. His sudden movement pulled on the transfusion tube, causing the bag that hung on the pole above his bed to jiggle wildly.

  “Get out!” he shouted at Holly.

  “What?” she sounded startled by his outburst.

  “Get out of here with that food!”

  I sank against the doorjamb, recalling what Ross had told me about the transfusions. Jake couldn’t eat during that time.

  “Get her out of here,” Jake ordered his father.

  Ross tossed his book aside and sprang from his chair. He grabbed Holly by the arm and pulled her past me into the hallway. I followed close behind. Ross’s neck and cheeks were on fire and his eyes narrowed, while Holly’s looked like they would pop out of her skull.

  “What the hell’s the matter with you?” Ross yelled at his daughter. He shook her shoulders until she was as limp as a rag doll. Her drink fell from her hand and splashed on the polished linoleum.

  “What did I do?” Holly cried as her shoes soaked up the puddle of Coke and crushed ice.

  The corridor felt like it was closing in around us. The medical staff that had stopped to see what was going on, now blurred into the fluorescent background of the hallway.

  “Don’t you have a lick of sense?” Ross’s words echoed off the tiled walls.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Holly sounded confused.

  “Jake can’t eat when he’s having transfusions. Why the hell can’t you stop and think once in a while?”

  “No one told me he couldn’t eat.” She broke away from his grip.

  “God damn it,” Ross cursed as she fled down the hall.

  Holly pushed past the people trying to get off the elevator and disappeared from view.

  “Ross, this is my fault,” I said.

  “No one’s to blame,” Ross said tersely, stepping aside for the custodian who had rushed over to clean up the mess on the floor.

  “It was my idea to stop at Burger King. I don’t think Holly eats much when no one’s at home, and she didn’t know about the transfusions.”

  “Yeah, I know.” Ross calmed down a bit.

  “I’ll take her home. She’s pretty upset. I wish there was more I could do.”

  “You’d done more than your share,” Ross said. “Look—I’m sorry this happened.”

  “It’s alright. This is a tough situation,” I assured him. I patted him on the arm before walking away.

  I found Holly in an alcove just off the lobby. She was slumped over and crying.

  “It’s okay.” I held her until she stopped sobbing enough to talk.

  “I’ve eaten in Jake’s room lots of times,” Holly defended as she vigorously shook the bag with her uneaten meal.

  “Since Jake can’t have any food, the smell of your hamburger was painful for him,” I tried to explain without breaking my word to Ross to keep quiet about Jake’s bleeding.

  “Everything I do is wrong—the Christmas tree and now this,” she cried. She crushed the bag and threw it on the floor.

  I picked up the bag and put my arm around her again. Ross had told me what had happened over the weekend with the tree. It must have seemed like the whole world was caving in to Holly.

  “Come, let’s go home,” I said, leading her by the hand. We walked arm in arm under my umbrella, stepping around small puddles that had prospered from the shower that was beginning to wind down.

  I waited until we had pulled up in front of Holly’s house before saying what I had to say.

  “Your dad didn’t mean to lash out at you the way he did.” I turned to her. “Your parents can’t think about anyone but Jake right now.”

  “I never want to see him again.”

  “You don’t mean that,” I chided. “You’re just upset right now, is all.”

  “Oh, yes I do. I mean it with all my heart. I’m never going to that hospital again.”

  “That kind of talk won’t solve anything, honey.”

  “I hate Jake. I hate Mother and Daddy. I hate all of them.” Holly began to cry.

  “This is a bad time for all of you. I know you don’t hate anyone, so don’t say things like that.”

  “Everyone’s mad at me.”

  “No one is mad at you. They just over-reacted, is all.”

  “They don’t care about me. I’ve had it with them.”

  “Honey, please,” I pleaded. “What happened is done and over.”

  “Mother and Daddy have completely forgotten about me.” She cried even harder.

  “You’re wrong about that,” I said. “Your family is going through a crisis. Sometimes people say or do things they don’t mean. You’ll feel better after you get some rest.”

  She pouted. “I’m never going to feel good again.”

  “Your father said he’d be home around ten. Are you sure you’ll be okay?”

  “I’ll be fine,” she responded as she got out of the car.

  I waited for her to unlock the door and go inside. It was dark. She had forgotten to leave a light on. But it was even darker in her heart, so I guess it didn’t matter.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  The real tragedy in life is not our losses, but the time and effort we spend regretting them.

  Bibi

  I KEPT GOING to and from the living room window like a fly drawn to light in search of escape. Holly should have been home by now.

  “You’re making me nervous,” Cullen said as I walked in front of the TV.

  “I can’t help it. I don’t know what to say to Holly when she gets here. She hasn’t spoken to Ross or been to the hospital since Monday night. Lord, this is no time to pout. She’s old enough to know that.”

  “Give her time.” Cullen sighed as he got up to change the channel.

  “It’s starting to rain,” I said, peering out the window again. “I wish Jewell hadn’t asked us to stay with Holly tonight.”

  As I headed back to the kitchen, I noticed the silver-framed picture of me on the mantle. It was taken right after Cullen and I married. I was several years older than him, but no one would know it by looking at me. Other than a few dates logged in the family Bible, there were no records to refute the number of years I had gradually shaved off my age. I sighed. Oh, to be that slim again rather than a matronly looking grandmother. I liked how smart I looked in the pinstripe suit I had worn that day. The photographer had posed me with my left hand resting on my right sleeve, allowing my diamond ring to sparkle from the studio lights. It was small compared the more expensive one Cullen bought me for our fifth anniversary. And the one I wore now was even bigger than that one. Thank God I’m not as sentimental as some women. Mildred Wal
ker is still wearing the plain gold band her husband gave her forty years ago.

  When I traipsed back to the window, I spotted Holly coming up the front walk, clutching her books against her chest to keep them from getting wet. The rain had splotched her jacket and flattened her hair.

  “What took you so long?” I asked as she came through the door.

  “The bus was late.” She took off her coat and handed it to me.

  “Well, I’ve got to cut up a chicken,” I said after drying off her coat with my dish towel.

  Holly followed me into the kitchen. She stacked her books on the table and grabbed an apple from the counter. After inspecting it for bruises, she wiped it on her skirt.

  “Don’t you have homework to do?” I asked.

  “I’ll do it later,” she said. She took a bite of her apple and left the room.

  When supper was ready, I called Cullen and Holly away from the Western they were watching.

  Cullen’s eyes lit up when he saw the pie I took out of the oven.

  The telephone rang before we could sit down. We all jumped. Cullen and I exchanged solemn glances as Holly rushed past us and grabbed the receiver. Cullen placed his hands on my shoulders as the clock on the mantle tolled six.

  “Hello,” Holly answered, out of breath.

  I moved closer so I could hear who was on the other end. Holly’s face turned white and she dropped the receiver. It banged against the wall as she dashed toward the front door.

  “Where are you going?” I cried after her.

  Cullen wrapped his arms around me.

  “See who’s on the phone.” I broke away from his grasp.

  “You’d better take it.” Cullen held the receiver for me. My hands trembled as he handed me the phone. I knew what my granddaughter’s husband was going to say even before he spoke.

  “I didn’t know what to do when Holly answered the phone.” Randy’s voice was strained.

  “You should have let me tell her. Now she’s run off somewhere and I’ve got to go find her.”

  “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to say.”

  “I wish you would have let us know sooner. I really wanted to be there when it happened.” I bit my lower lip.

  “Jewell didn’t want Holly up here. Jake was going in and out of consciousness. Right before he passed, he opened his eyes and asked where Holly was. That was the last thing he said. Jewell kept talking to him, telling him to look at her, but he never did. I think she thought he would stay alive if he heard her voice.”

  “Poor Jewell,” I said.

  “She’s hysterical. No one can do anything for her.”

  “Well, I can’t worry about Jewell now. Holly didn’t even have a coat on when she ran outside. I have no idea where she went.”

  I walked out on the front porch and stood in the chill. It was a moonless night with dark clouds crowding the sky, hiding the stars and heaven. An eerie glow enveloped the streetlight at the corner. Holly stood under its shadowy light, her arms wrapped around her chest as she shivered from the cold damp air.

  “Holly, come on back,” I called to her. She acted like she didn’t hear me and took off running in the opposite direction.

  “Drive around the neighborhood,” I ordered Cullen when he joined me on the porch.

  “Leave her alone. She won’t go far.” Cullen ushered me into the house.

  Even though my grandson had just died, we sat down and finished eating. I would have the rest of my life for being sad, but for now, I had to get things ready for all the neighbors and friends who would come by once they heard the news.

  A half hour later, the phone rang. It was Marilyn’s mother.

  “Mrs. Lambert, I’m so sorry about Jake. Holly told us. She’s here with us,” Mrs. Davis explained.

  “Is she okay?” I asked, wiping my eyes with my apron. “She ran off as soon as she found out.”

  “She’s upset. She keeps saying it’s all her fault.”

  “Oh dear.”

  “I didn’t know what in the world had happened. She was pounding on our door and screaming Jake’s name.”

  “She lit out of here before I could stop her.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Mrs. Davis said. “I’ll call the neighbors and let them know. Marilyn will walk Holly home after a while.”

  “I’m just relieved to know where she is.” I hung up the phone. I covered Holly’s plate with foil and put it on top of the stove. Cullen walked over to me, but I didn’t feel like being consoled, so I cleared the table and washed the dishes.

  It wasn’t long before the street and driveway were full of cars and the house was flooded with neighbors, people from the church, and friends or coworkers of Ross and Jewell. I made my rounds with the coffee pot, glad I appeared too busy to exchange conversation with them. I spotted Kathleen standing in the foyer and overheard her telling Ross’s brother Drew and his wife Sybil that she was pregnant again. She hadn’t even breathed it to me. Sybil raised her eyebrow and whispered something to Drew when Kathleen bent down to stop Jennifer from tugging at her skirt.

  I was embarrassed for not having anything but coffee to offer. The first few people who showed up finished off the pie I made for supper. When I started back into the kitchen to see if there were any cookies in the pantry, the front door opened. Holly stood outside looking like an orphan who didn’t belong in her own house. Marilyn nudged her into the foyer.

  I glanced at my watch. It was after eight. Randy was still at the hospital with Jewell and Ross, helping them load Jake’s belongings and take care of all the paperwork. I wished they would hurry and get here.

  Jennifer stopped whining for Kathleen to pick her up as soon as she saw Holly. Holly swept Jennifer into her arms and quickly ducked into the living room, ignoring me altogether. Marilyn shrugged slightly and said she had to leave, so I asked Cullen to see her home.

  This was going to be a long, difficult night. I was not prepared for this. No one ever is.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Every leaf that turns in autumn and every star that falls from heaven remind us that all life is transient.

  Brother Howard

  I HAD RATHER chop cotton in blazing sun than minister to parents who have lost a child. How could I possibly tell someone that their beloved son or daughter was better off with Jesus? In some cases that was true, but no parent ever believed such a thing.

  I didn’t know Jewell or Ross very well since neither of them attended church regularly. Jewell usually dropped Holly off on Sunday mornings and picked her up after church let out. I had visited the Hendricks several times and never understood why the family didn’t worship together, but this was no time to be judgmental. I went over as quickly as I could when I found out about Jake.

  When I got there, the only family members amid the throng of people who had dropped by were Holly’s older sister Kathleen, her niece Jennifer, and her grandmother Bibi Lambert. Jewell and Ross were still at the hospital. I told Mrs. Lambert I would talk to Holly when she came back from wherever she had run off to after learning her brother had passed away. Knots welled up in my stomach. Finding the right words in times of sorrow was always difficult, even for a seasoned minister like me.

  When I heard the front door open, I walked into the foyer. Holly was standing outside with her friend Marilyn in the damp, bitter night. Marilyn and her family were also members of my congregation. Holly seemed reluctant to enter when she saw all the uneasy faces staring back at her.

  “La La,” Holly’s little niece cried as she rose from where she was squatted on the floor and ran toward her aunt with outstretched arms. Holly picked Jennifer up and pressed her face against the child’s soft, plump cheeks.

  Before I could say anything to her, Holly disappeared with Jennifer into another room. Later, I saw her sitting in a corner rocking her niece to sleep in her arms. When our eyes met she quickly looked away. Her face was full of anguish and my heart ached deep inside for her. I knew that as soon as
her parents returned home, everyone here would forget all about Holly. Her grief, as tender as it was, would pale against the tragedy of parents losing a son.

  It was past nine when Jewell and Ross finally arrived. A small crowd immediately flanked them to offer condolences. It seemed strange and perhaps a little cruel that Holly’s parents never went to her. It had to be painful for her, waiting for comfort that never came.

  Earlier, Mrs. Lambert had told me about the argument between Holly and her brother on Monday night. She feared her granddaughter felt guilty for letting her anger keep her from going to see Jake before he died. Knowing this made me sweat even more. Grief and guilt were always a bad combination.

  Most of the evening, I just stood around. The conversations I overheard revealed much about the fragile relationships between family members. Ross and his brother Drew ended up in a heated discussion over where Jake was being buried. Their mother, Ada Hendricks, had insisted on deeding over three plots in the family parcel at the Elysian Fields Cemetery in Land of Goshen to Ross and Jewell—one plot for Jake next to his grandfather and the other two for them. That way, they could be with Jake for eternity. Apparently, this didn’t sit well with Drew, who walked off in a huff. I had seen more than my share of family members squabbling over the rights of a grave site.

  When I went to check on Holly, she was still in the rocker but had dozed off along with Jennifer. Mrs. Lambert walked over and gently shook her.

  “You startled me.” Holly’s eyes opened wide.

  “Here, let me have her,” Mrs. Lambert insisted as she lifted Jennifer from Holly’s lap.

  “Do you know when the funeral is?” Holly asked.

  “Friday, if they can get all the arrangements made by then,” Mrs. Lambert replied. “We have to get up early tomorrow morning and drive to Land of Goshen, so you need to go to bed.”

  “I won’t be able to sleep with all these people in the house,” Holly argued.

  “You need to go to bed.” Mrs. Lambert remained firm.