Complicated Care

by Denise M. Hartman

  Antonio muttered and acquiesced. They heard another cart coming along and an aid saying loudly in a neighboring room, “We’ve got your chicken pot pie, Jennie.”

  Dinner time. Blanche glanced at the second floor window. Not dark yet she thought relieved. The RCCC had an early dinner for those in the dementia area they believed weren’t able to notice the time. Blanche knew if dinner was on, darkness was coming soon. Her problems loomed much larger than darkness, but deep down in the secret fears of her heart, it would be marvelous to be out of the RCCC before the sun disappeared into the ocean surrounding this island.

  Blanche took a towel from her cart after pushing it as far into a corner of the room as possible. Antonio stood near the closet for a quick disappearing act if anyone came into the suite.

  Blanche marched down to where the salons would be in other wings and found one side converted to an eating area for the more mobile residents as she’d hoped. She did a double take at the woman seated next to Janice. The wig was mangy but lots of people in these places didn’t spend money to upgrade aesthetic things knowing the clock was ticking down, so Blanche figured the staff didn’t notice. She knew it was a huge come down for Shirley aka movie star Veda. Her beautifully highlighted blond locks were as mashed as Blanche’s former up-do. Brilliantly, it made Shirley completely hidden in plain sight.

  An aid nearby said, “We keep coming up short on meals.”

  Blanche realized they’d catch on to Shirley-Veda’s presence soon. She went to the nearest table and picked up the food scraps that littered the table in napkins and threw them away. She worked her way over to their table avoiding the real aids.

  She leaned over preparing to reveal herself to the women when Janice said, “It’s about time you got here.”

  “Why don’t you head back to your room pretty soon?” Blanche mumbled. She patted Shirley on the shoulder who peeked over the thick glasses at her and winked.

  “Oye, what’s your name?” One of the food delivery people pointed directly at Blanche. The cheap shiny wig squeezed her head tighter. She felt as though she glowed in the dark and wondered how she’d got herself into this.

  She pointed her polished finger tip at the front of the hot pink scrubs she wore.

  “What’re you deaf?”

  Blanche thought fast. “Anne, I’m Anne. I’m a temp.” Temps that had come to Blanche’s office had often challenged credulity in their ineptness, maybe this would help her to be seen bumbling around here.

  “Take this tray down to Liz in room 218.”

  Blanche nodded and walked off as told. She deposited the tray on a table while the said Liz was being helped in the bathroom.

  Blanche slipped back down the hall toward Janice’s room. A low profile seemed essential. She didn’t need to be detected either by security or slimy Carlos or legitimate staff for that matter.

  She passed a laundry closet and carried some towels back down the hall for the benefit of the cameras keeping her head toward the floor.

  When they all regrouped in Janice’s room, Antonio kissed all the ladies on both cheeks.

  “Shirley. Veda,” Blanche hadn’t given much thought to how to convince her to take the deal. It wasn’t for the sake of the Dragon but to get Shirley-Veda out of the clutches of the RCCC and Carlos the molester.

  She shook her head ever so slightly to discourage Blanche using her stage name.

  “This is no time for niceties and pride. I think I’ve found you a way out of here, but it won’t...” Blanche searched for a euphemism for ‘be without wounds to your celebrity ego.’ “Easy. It won’t be easy.”

  Shirley might be disguised as an old bag but she was not. She crossed her arms across her chest and stood up straighter.

  “So the Dragon woman works for some sort of publication syndicate. She won’t tell which one or what kind. She’s the one who sent me wanting your stories.” Blanche waved the cellphone. “I pressured her for payment to see if we could get you off the island. She wants to know... to hear about your father and what happened before you went to Hollywood.”

  Shirley-Veda dropped her jaw staring lopsidedly at Blanche. “How on earth? No one has ever...that’s not possible.”

  Blanche felt time ticking. “She’s offering $50,000.”

  “$50,000? Seriously? Those sluts in Hollywood who don’t even act or do anything make millions on single appearances and pictures of their illegitimate children. That’s an insult.”

  Blanche hadn’t thought of it in terms of comparison, just that Shirley couldn’t make it on slim pickings. She decided she better deliver all the bad news. “She wants childhood photos and, uh, current ones.”

  “No, and no. I’ll feed her some of my old publicity photos and then only for a million dollars and then still hoping she catches her office on fire with the photos.” Shirley started pacing distractedly.

  “I also have made contact with an alternate tabloid,” Okay, Blanche thought, my acquaintance did, but continued, “They are offering $100,000 for your stories of your disappearing act and RCCC. I say you try to out the whole facelift scam and then hold out for more money for photos.”

  “You think I should give up my pride, my career, my reputation for a mere $150,000? I couldn’t live anytime on that.”

  Blanche pointed out, “But haven’t you given up most of that hiding away in here? You’re not living a life of elegance and pride under the thumb and whatever else of Carlos and Bruce. Think of it that way.”

  Shirley rung her hands and then rung the cloth of her unflattering house dress. “I won’t be able to live normally on that,” she said to no one in particular.

  Janice cleared her throat. She’d been watching the exchange with interest. “You can pump the Dragon up to half a mil and the tabloid too if you hold back the photos. I had lots of clients who did this kind of thing. But you gotta be willing to settle less than those big lipped fake boob types — your box office hits, I’m sorry to say, are long gone.”

  “$1 million?! I’ll die under a bridge in a cardboard box.”

  Blanche rolled her eyes.

  Janice said, “I’ll teach you to manage your money.”

  Antonio winked at Blanche. “While it’s lovely to chat, I need to know have you lovely ladies found a way into Unit 2?”

  Shirley with the thick glasses propped on top of the mangy wig and her drooping left eye showing, grinned at Antonio. The tabloids set aside. “That’s where I’ve been sleeping.”

  “¿No me digas? Do tell.” He kissed her again.

  “Timing is crucial or they’ll notice. Best to slip in late after they’ve settled in for the night. That’s what I’m doing and coming back before the breakfast carts roll.”

  Blanche felt fear like a hunted animal. She knew darkness didn’t matter. Day, night it didn’t make a difference. She knew it mentally, but...fear did odd things in a person. It affected her heart or soul or mind. All of them.

  Shirley-Veda outlined her idea. “We go in at bedtime and watch for the nurses station to get empty. All the files get kept there. Well, I guess they do.”

  Blanche wondered if the mission was doomed already. Again. But she plunged ahead. Gotta bring the bad guys down. No time for hesitation. She scribbled down the Mr. Smith name and case number she’d seen on Bruce’s screen. “Here’s what you’re looking for.” She handed the scrap to Antonio.

  “Mr. Smith332, what good will this do?” Antonio demanded his ire flaring in the stress of the moment.

  “I know. That’s why we need photo proof if you can get it.”

  “Madre de Dios, do you want me to bring him a mint as well? I will just kill him and the world will breathe better.”

  “No, remember? You are bringing justice, not being the death angel. For the news media? Or maybe a book.” Blanche thought she needed to sweeten the pot to keep him from going off the rails. “You are the avenger of the good Cuban people, and you are exposing him to redeem your past sins.”

  It was Antonio’s
turn to roll his eyes. “You can’t forgive your own sin.”

  “Well, no. You’re right, but you don’t have to pile on more.”

  “Anyway, you get the idea. In the eyes of the world. Maybe look in the Mr. Smith file see if you can see any pictures in there. At least get a record of the date of surgery. You’ll figure something out. Shirley, is there another exit from Unit 2?”

  “There’s the emergency one down stairs by Antonio and Edna’s rooms. I think it may have alarms or guards. The way we are going in seems to be the ho-hum staff entrance. It gives them tighter control of who is on the floor. The rest of the exits are for emergencies or guards. Lots of those since every celeb has their own posse.”

  “So I can’t pass through with the cart and keep going. I don’t know if I can wait until bedtime. The cart will have to go back before anyone notices. I don’t want you to be trapped.” She pointed at Antonio. It seemed like Blanche could feel something closing in and she felt certain it wasn’t just the setting sun.

  Shirley made an oh with her lips, then said, “He can’t just walk out with papers. I think they would notice that.”

  “I will make due with Miss Shirley for my escape. Perhaps we will pass a night of...companionship after we find the evidence and slip out in the morning.”

  She giggled and it was Janice’s turn to roll her eyes, Blanche noticed.

  “Empty the trash,” Janice said.

  For a second, Blanche feared they’d hit a disconnect in Janice’s logic.

  But she clarified, “Take the cart back now and then just go around straightening and emptying the trash.” She twisted in her chair. Tonio find the papers put the papers in the trash by the nurse station and Blanche can walk out with them and no one notices.”

  “If we wait till morning, maybe I can bring the cart back and smuggle Antonio out again without setting off the escaping dementia patient alarms.”

  “Or maybe I just walk out and no one cares. It’s all about tone,” Antonio said.

  Blanche knew there was truth to that, but wasn’t convinced.

  Shirley piped up, “I got it. It’s not tone only. It’s the costume. People see what you tell them to see. We need to find you some scrubs or a white coat to put on once you’re on the other side and for your departure. Blanche, take him down to the end of the left hall and leave him in the laundry closet. I’ll be there in a bit.” She winked at him but bit her lip before lowering her glasses and leaving.

  Janice said, “Hurry, Antonio. The aids will come soon.”

  Antonio got folded inside the compartment of the cart and before Blanche could close it completely a security guard walked into the room. Old age was a terrible thing, she jumped not having heard him coming and thinking she had more time.

  “Seems like there’s some unusual activity this evening, we wanted to make sure everything was okay.”

  Blanche thought sure, the one guy in the entire center to take his job with total sincerity. She thought fast cleared her throat and talked higher than normal to avoid her old lady smoker voice. “Oh, one of our ladies had a little spill, so we had to do some clean up. I’m heading out to Unit 2 for floors now.”

  She had to say something because she couldn’t take Antonio right back out of this wing yet.

  The security guard unnervingly opened the closet and asked Janice if she was okay. “Where’s Arty?” she chirped.

  Blanche shrugged her shoulders and started maneuvering her cart toward the door her heart and carotid arteries pounding.

  Chapter Seventy-Three

  Blanche pushed the cart with Antonio inside and huffed a bit. It should motivate her to ditch the cigarettes but with such stress she really wanted one right now. She heard the security guard come out in the hall after her and hoped he turned to go back to the office and the video screens and not follow her.

  In case he watched her, she felt like she’d better go ahead into Unit 2 even thought that was suppose to be Antonio’s part. She didn’t like deviating from the plan they’d made in Janice’s room.

  She got the clumsy cart through the door into the other Unit. She shuffled along until she saw a dark room. Blanche rummaged in a closet found some sheets and slipped into the room to see if it was really empty. She flipped the light on instinctively then flinched as the overhead fluorescent lights flashed several times.

  No body in the bed yet. She tossed the sheets on the end of the bed and went out to her cart, she clicked the snap open on the compartment holding Antonio while she muttered. “The room right here is empty. I’ll start vacuuming and you slip inside. We’re on Unit 2.”

  She did vacuum the hallways doing a good show for the cameras. Vacuuming was one of those things that could put small things back in order in the world. Not this time she feared.

  The guard from earlier came through the door of the dementia side to Unit 2 and Blanche hoped her jumpiness was internal and not external.

  She rolled up the cord and glanced up behind the guard and noticed the light go off in the room she’d scouted out for Antonio. She hoped the guard wouldn’t notice.

  He passed her without saying anything, but she knew he was paying attention. She needed to get rid of the cart. It was too hard to hide from the cameras.

  As she fiddled around her cart, she spoke quietly in the now empty hallway, “Justice, not death.” Antonio needed to stay on task. Blanche would be a co-conspirator bringing him over here if he killed someone. Would that make her eligible for an accessory charge she wondered?

  She heard Antonio hiss from the room behind her. “No guarantees.”

  As she began to maneuver the cart, she saw a beefy man step outside a room down across from the nurses station. She snatched glances. He wore a security guard uniform, but not the same as the RCCC guys she could tell that much. His gold skin and dark cropped hair spoke of Latino blood. His biceps testified of hours in a gym.

  He turned and stared at her hard. She hoped her cart gave her legitimacy but felt her heart rate increase. Then she noticed he fingered a pack of cigarettes.

  Blanche kept her head down but waved, “Smoke break for me. I’ll be back to do the trash.” So she’d have a reason to be back, right? So he wouldn’t notice her later. Just blending in to the woodwork. She found it hard to swallow.

  Blanche managed to get herself back over to the dementia side with a relieved breath only to be scared spit-less by Shirley popping out of a closet. Blanche had to get her emotions under control.

  “Where’s Antonio? You were suppose to leave him here.”

  “A security guard turned up and I had to have a reason to be over here so I went through. Third room on the right.” She thumbed over her shoulder.

  Shirley waved a white coat wildly. “I need to get him this.”

  Blanche shrugged. “The guard has seen me twice and now there’s a burly latino security guy in the hall. I need to be gone for awhile.” She thought she really would take a smoke break. She needed something to relieve her nerves.

  Blanche patted Shirley’s shoulder, “You’re very resourceful. You can get it to him.”

  Shirley’s look of panic fortified and Blanche could imagine for a moment being a director who inspired an actor to their role. Inspired, she said, “This is your part to play.”

  Shirley straightened her shoulders and drew on the white coat.

  As Blanche turned with her cart she added, “Don’t let him kill anybody.”

  Blanche passed Edna on the office sofas without acknowledging her and headed to the employee wing. Blanche found a mesh laundry sack and put her supplies for her next sally in it. She headed for the secret smoking patio on Frank’s wing. She couldn’t risk the employee one. Carlos might turn up or someone else might ask her to justify who she was.

  She slipped outside without anyone paying attention. The humidity and heat swamped over her in a comforting way after the air conditioning and the tension. She drew hard on her cigarette looking at lovely pink and orange clouds above the tree line
. A beautiful sunset. A horrible sense of dread. A phone ringing. She realized it was the Dragon phone and scrambled to answer.

  “Well, what’d she say?”

  So much for preliminaries. Blanche exhaled a lung full of smoke. “Who?”

  “Veda! Don’t play games.”

  They’d been interrupted. Blanche squinted at the sky noticing the trees turning to black silhouettes in front of the beauty of the sunset colors. What had Janice said?

  “$500,000 without photos.”

  “What? That’s insane.” She covered the phone and mumbled with someone else nearby, “I’ll do $300,000 with photos.”

  “Well the other place offered more....” Blanche didn’t know what they might offer in reality. She pulled the phone away from her ear as the Dragon erupted in a stream of abuse and swearing.

  “You are fired. You were my exclusive link and you’d sell me out. I will sue your...”

  Blanche would not stand to be treated this way. She’d taken enough disdain and attitude for one lifetime between children, marriage, and bosses. “No, I don’t think that’s possible. We don’t have a contract. The competition isn’t my problem. It’s yours. I can just leave now and you can start over. I’m an independent entity. You are not the boss of me.” She clicked off and regretted the last line. It was something her grandkids would say. Dignity out the window.

  She finished her cigarette patting herself on the back for not taking the abuse but hoping she hadn’t blown the deal for Shirley. Maybe she should get Edna’s take on it.

  Chapter Seventy-Four

  Shirley slid along the wall toward the dark room. No one saw her. She quietly got Antonio into the white coat. They froze as they heard someone pass outside the door.

  “Now, you don’t sneak or dart around. You are a doctor’s assistant and you belong here. Own it.”

  Antonio stroked his pencil mustache. “It’s not my first time, Reina, but you would have been a marvelous directora.”