Published by Boson Books
ISBN 0-917990-48-X
An imprint of C&M Online Media Inc.
Copyright 2002 Rosemary Nourse
All rights reserved
For information contact
C&M Online Media Inc.
3905 Meadow Field Lane
Raleigh, NC 27606
Tel: (919) 233-8164
e-mail:[email protected]
URL: http://www.bosonbooks.com
_____________________________________________
TRANSFORMATION
by
Rosemary Nourse
_____________________________________________
BOSON BOOKS
Raleigh
Jane sifted through her dresser drawer, slowly at first and then frantically, as she could not find the bank envelope containing her last few precious bills.
"Damn her," she said aloud in frustration, slamming it shut. Agitated, she hurried into the kitchen to make a necessary call.
"Hello?" a tired voice answered.
"Rita, it's Jane, sorry if I woke you up. Do you have ten bucks I can borrow till I get paid Friday? I'm out of gas and ten minutes late for work and I'm so tired of living like this..."
"Sure Jane, no problem, it's okay. Just do me a favor."
"What?"
"Don't leave your money in obvious places around the house, your old lady always finds it," Rita advised.
"I know. I'll be right over."
Jane grabbed her purse and flew out the door, feeling frazzled and perspiring before her workday had even begun.
"You're late again Jane," the older woman in a perfectly starched nurse's uniform sternly reminded her. "There are plenty of other girls interested in this job if you're not."
"Yes, I'm very sorry Mrs. Dade. I had some car trouble," she lied weakly.
"That's your last excuse. We all have our problems, don't take a coffee break if you want your full pay," she replied flatly, turning her attention back to her charting.
Mrs. Dade didn't particularly care for Jane. Although she was a hard worker, appeared intelligent and did a good job, she was white trash and altogether unattractive.
"Katherine's waiting for you and she smells ripe too," smirked one of the other nurse's aides as she breezed past Jane.
"I guess you couldn't have helped her to the bathroom," Jane commented.
"She's not my patient and you're the one who was late. I have my own work to do. Why were you late anyway Jane, another hot date last night?" she smiled sarcastically.
Jane ignored her and the other girls' laughter as she headed for Katherine's room. She was accustomed to their cruel remarks and had no friends at the nursing home where she had worked these past five years, except for the patients.
Most of the aides on Jane's floor were young women partially putting themselves through nursing school. While it was backbreaking physical work and depressing at times, the pay was decent and the nursing experience valuable. The students who worked in health care settings typically did better in school.
Jane worked there for all the same reasons the other girls did; she was trying to get through the three year RN diploma program at the local hospital nursing school. But she could only afford to take two classes at a time and the completion of the program seemed so far away. To her, college wasn't about fun or boys or partying, it was purely work and the means to a decent future.
There was no free ride to college from Daddy, just another way Jane was different and another reason for her co-workers to look down on her. They were sure she'd never finish school and that all her future would ever be was that of an aide in a crummy old nursing home.
Though words still stung at times, Jane had trained herself long ago to be impervious to hurt. She had the ability to shut down her heart to most emotions when necessary.
Raised by an alcoholic single mother who had never been responsible, consistent or reliable in her lifetime, Jane had no choice but to grow up fast and assume the parent role in place of her inadequate mother.
Her mother had never held a job for more than a few months at a time and they had only survived due to public assistance. Jane didn't know who her father was and she didn't care in the least; she had no longing to search for him. She logically assumed he was someone similar to her mother. One dysfunctional parent was all she could handle in her life.
Jane did not have a childhood. By the age of six, she had taken over the household; cleaning their apartment, fixing all the meals, dressing herself for school and completing her homework on her own.
She had managed to make a few friends during her school years, but she could never have them over to her place, she never had a ride to get to their houses, she never had the money to buy presents for birthday parties. So she spent a lot of time alone; drawing, listening to music, reading and daydreaming about what her life could someday be.
While her mother was passed out on the old couch, she'd watch cozy sitcoms and pretend the perfect people in the show were her family. She'd listen to the advice Bill Cosby gave the kids on his show or her other favorite TV family, the "Keatons." She'd fantasize that somehow those people were going to come into her life and adopt her. They'd rescue her and then she'd have a nice house, pretty clothes, cool brothers and sisters to banter with and she wouldn't be so ugly. She held onto that fantasy because the soothing promise of it helped her get to sleep at night.
Numerous men came and went, her mother's various boyfriends. They were usually just someone for her mother to party with, to share the misery with. Many times, Jane was scared of them so she'd stay out as late as possible or sleep in the basement of their building until they'd leave. But only one of them had made sexual advances towards her, which only reaffirmed her physical unattractiveness. She assumed no amount of alcohol could make her desirable, which in this case, had been a good thing.
Honestly, there truly wasn't anything pretty about Jane and she avoided her own reflection as much as possible. She had desperately hoped for improvement in her appearance as she grew up, but nothing changed for the better. She was short and stocky with heavy legs, small eyes of a strangely dark color, thin limp hair, a nose that was far too broad and smiling wasn't something she did well. But despite her blandness, the constant rejection from others, and the horrendous treatment from her mother, Jane cared about herself. Something in her drove her to fight for a healthy way of life, to struggle for more and for something better. She had to care, no one else did or would.
"There you are my dear," the elderly woman remarked with a smile as Jane walked into her room.
"Good afternoon Katherine," she responded warmly.
"I can't seem to find my keys. You can help me search Janie, Jonathan's expecting me and I've got to drive to Vermont tonight to meet him."
"Jon knows where you are and I don't think he'd want you to drive all the way to Vermont tonight," Jane gently reasoned with her. "He can meet you here."
"Well, maybe that is a better idea," she paused to think.
"It's almost five o'clock, why don't we get ready for dinner?"
"All right, that would be fine. Let me call Jon first about the change in plans," Katherine stated as she walked over to the phone on her dressing table. "Funny, I can't recall the number, do you remember Janie? This is terribly frustrating."
"It's all right Katherine," Jane put a comforting arm about the woman's shoulders as she began to cry, "we'll figure it out together."
"Hey, plain Jane, stop screwing around with Kathy. I need help with old man Douglas," Cheryl called into the doorway as she walked past.
"I'll be back in a few minutes, why don't you comb your hair and put your sweater on while I'm gone," Jane suggested as she left to help the other aide.
"You waste more time with that nutty lady," Cheryl remarked as Jane walked into the large bathroom where the big steel tubs were located.
"You're going to make a really compassionate nurse someday," Jane replied.
Cheryl rolled her eyes at the comment as they lifted Mr. Douglas out of the tub in the electronic chair, helping to steady him as it landed smoothly on the floor. They thoroughly dried him, settled him back into his wheelchair, dressed him and then took him to the main dining room.
The entire night consisted of pure physical labor; relentlessly lifting patients, turning them, feeding them, changing soiled linens, helping them ambulate or pushing them in chairs. Finally, at the end of the night, all the patients would be bathed and put to bed. They each had a certain bedtime routine they had grown accustomed to and wanted the aides to follow or they could become quite belligerent. Once in bed, the aides periodically checked their patients for incontinence. All of the girls, except Jane, usually sat down and gabbed the last hour or so of their shift. However, they had no interest in talking to Jane and she had no interest in speaking to them either. She couldn't identify with them in the least. They'd all go home to their lovely neighborhoods and their loving parents, save their little paychecks for the beautiful colleges they attended or buy clothes for their dates with good looking guys. Jane would return home to her dumpy apartment in the lousy part of town, to her boozed up mother and hope she could afford another class. She spent the last hour of work checking on Katherine and the others, walking up and down the quiet hallways for miles until the nightshift would come in to relieve them.
Jane made her last round as Mrs. Dade gave report to the next shift. She liked the ward at night with the lights dimmed low, it was peaceful, almost home-like. She walked past Katherine's room last, always stopping to say goodbye before she left for the night. Katherine was usually up watching her small television or reading.
"Janie," she spoke up as she glimpsed her figure.
"Yes, I thought you were asleep," Jane replied softly as she walked into the woman's room.
"Not quite, I drift off a little and think I'm back home again. Or sometimes I think I'm thirty-five, with my three girls running around the house, waiting for me to wake up and start the day. But then I look around this room and it registers that I'm not home, I know that Jon is dead, the girls are grown and far away and I'm all alone in the world. I'm not where I want to be or even who I want to be... And I hate what my life is now.
I can't understand why my daughters did this to me. Why did they put me in this awful place? Is this what my life has amounted to, is it all going to end here?" she pontificated, a tear sliding down her cheek.
It broke Jane's heart when Katherine had these lucid moments of harsh reality. There was little she could say to comfort her, mostly because what she stated was true. It was lousy and unfair for her life to end like this.
"Your daughters weren't trying to hurt you Katherine, they do care about you. It's just that you need help sometimes, your thinking gets a little mixed up at times...."
"I know, I know, the Alzheimer's. I get confused, but at eighty-five, I should be allowed to get confused. Don't ever grant your kids power of attorney Jane, never," she warned her.
"I'll probably never have any kids, but I'll remember that."
"You'd be a wonderful mother dear, it'll happen one day, it will."
"I don't think so," she smiled at her.
"Janie, your inner beauty shines through. You're more attractive than you give yourself credit for and you're astute. Believe me, when it comes down to it, physical beauty doesn't mean much."
"That's true, but it's still hard. You were and still are a beautiful woman."
She smiled and patted Jane's hand as if to shrug off the compliment. But she was right, even at eighty-five, Katherine was very pretty. She had large blue-gray eyes, a slim delicate nose, high cheekbones, and wavy auburn hair that refused to thin or gray. She was tall, naturally slender and had an air of elegance about her.
"How's your mother Janie, has she sobered up yet?"
"Nah, not yet."
"She probably never will."
"No, she probably won't."
"You've got to leave, start your own life," Katherine urged her.
"I know, I'm trying to save my money. I only have one more year of nursing school."
"I told you before dear, I can give you money," she offered.
"Thank you, but I can't accept it. First of all, I'd be fired, then my mother would be after it, not to mention your family would be after me, and then with my luck, I'd end up being arrested."
"That's a thought, a policeman would make a good husband for you, strong and dependable," Katherine joked. "Oh Jane, you're my only friend in this hellish existence."
"You're my only friend in my hellish existence."
"You're too young to say things like that. You've got to promise me, as soon as you finish school, you'll leave this ugly town and your mother. There's a wonderful world out there, Jon and I had traveled most of it, you have no idea what you're missing. There are fantastic places to see with warm people, people who would appreciate someone like you. This town has become a slum, Jon and I were going to retire out West, we had this certain spot in Montana that we loved... No use talking about that now. Anyway, you're special and you're strong—it's out there waiting for you."
"I'm afraid of what's waiting for me," she answered honestly.
"No, everything and anything is possible. Besides, nothing can be worse than what you've already endured." She paused for a moment, "I almost forgot to tell you the most important thing of all; I saw Jon earlier tonight. I'm finally going to him. I'm very happy about it, so terribly happy and relieved."
Jane thought Katherine was slipping back into her confused state and it broke her heart because they'd shared so much. She couldn't handle it, not this time.
"It's late, I'd better get going. I'll see you tomorrow, you can tell me about that trip you and Jon took to the Grand Canyon," Jane said as she prepared to stand up.
Katherine suddenly leaned forward and embraced her. "I'm sorry to see you go, but it is late and you need your rest. I want to thank you Jane, from the bottom of my heart, for taking such good care of me these past five years. You kept me clean, you cared about me, you gave me your friendship and my dignity. I won't forget you. Please remember what I told you..."
Jane returned her warm embrace, then tucked her comfortably back in bed. She stopped and looked back to see Katherine's alert eyes gazing out the window, a smile of anticipation and calm upon her lips. There was something about that moment, something she couldn't describe, but it moved her enormously.
It was one in the morning that cold February night as Jane ran to her old car. It gave her an uneasy feeling to be the only person in the dark parking lot.
Some teenage boys walked past her, glancing at her briefly, then laughing as they walked away. Being hideous had its advantages.
After a few tries, her rusted clunker started and she pulled away as heavy clouds rolled across the black sky and covered the last sliver of moon.
Jane tried to be quiet as she gingerly opened the apartment door. The television was on; empty bottles of vodka stood upon the living room table and were strewn across the floor. Her mother lay asleep on the couch, mouth wide open.
She walked back to her bedroom, shut the door and took off her clothes, exhausted and desperately wanting to go to sleep. She got into bed and turned off the light, hopefully anticipating a quiet night when the door was suddenly flung open.
"Jane, wake up girl," her mother's voice cracked the silence.
"Tomorrow Mom, I'm tired," Jane tried to put her off, hoping she'd stumble back to the couch.
"It can't wait, gotta talk now," she insisted.
"What is it?" she replied with dread, knowing her mother wouldn't give up.
"Did you cash your check today? I said, did you cash your check?"
"No Mom, I do
n't get paid until the end of the week."
"End of the week? We'll never make it 'til then, kid. You've gotta get some money now, they owe it to you, you worked hard for it," she rambled on.
"Could we talk about this in the morning, I'm really tired."
"No, no we can't talk about it in the morning. I won't be able to sleep if I'm worrying about this."
"Then have a few more drinks and you'll be able to sleep," Jane said loudly as she sat up in bed.
"Oh, okay. I guess that was supposed to be funny. All right, you self-righteous little bitch, if that's how you wanna talk. Hell, I'm just a drunk, but you're a working woman, a career woman who wipes old ladies' asses. This is still my house little girl, it's my house and I demand some respect," she yelled.
Even though everything was familiar about this scene, a powerful feeling welled up inside of Jane that she'd never had before and it filled her with rage and courage.
"You want some respect Mom, then dry out, get a job, see a therapist, take some responsibility for yourself for the first time in your life. A person has to be respectable to be respected and that's definitely not you."
The mother was stunned by her daughter's words, "If you only knew what things were like growing up in my house, you wouldn't be so hard on me."
"I know, I've heard it a million times; you were very abused, that's true, but then you grew up and you got away and had the opportunity to make your own life and your own choices. But you made the wrong ones, over and over again. And you got in bad relationships and hung out with the worst people. I don't want to hear that crap anymore because it only rationalizes your behavior. You could've gone to a million rehab and job programs for free, but you didn't want that either because it was too hard. So, this is what you've got, this is the wonderful life you've made for yourself. And what the hell do you think you've been doing to me all these years?"
Her mother stepped forward and slapped Jane hard across the cheek. Instinctively she bolted up, grabbed her firmly by the shoulders and glared into her eyes.
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