Bingoed

by Patricia Rockwell

The intercom interjected into her musings. “Residents, good morning. It’s seven-thirty and time for the first seating at breakfast. We have fresh cinnamon rolls today!”

  Essie smirked. They have fresh cinnamon rolls every day, she thought. She roused herself from her chair, made a fast detour to her bathroom because all the water she had swallowed to take her pills had seeped right through her, and then out she rolled to the dining hall.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  “After the age of 80, everything reminds you of something else.”

  —Lowell Thomas

  After breakfast, she hurried back to her apartment to brush her teeth and visit her toilet a second time. Just as she was walking out of her bathroom, her daughter Prudence arrived.

  “Mom!” called Prudence. “I’m here! Are you ready?”

  “Pru!” greeted Essie, “What’s the weather like? Do I need a jacket?”

  “Just your light coat, I think,” answered Prudence. She opened Essie’s small living room closet and removed her blue raincoat and slipped it on her mother. “I’ve already signed you out, so we can just go.”

  “A long trip today, right?” asked Essie.

  “I know,” agreed Prudence. “But, Mom, the trees are in bloom and there are so many of them between here and Elmwood. You’ll love it!” She guided Essie out of her apartment and out through the main entrance. At the front of the building, Prudence helped Essie into the front passenger seat of her little white Toyota, and then quickly dismantled Essie’s walker and stuffed it in her trunk. Then she slid into the driver’s seat and the two women took off amidst a lively conversation about weather and catching up on family events.

  “Oh my!” shouted Essie as they hit the highway on the way to Elmwood, “How beautiful!” And truly, the road seemed to be lined with parade watchers and those watchers were all festooned with garlands of flowers. Essie was entranced. She so seldom had the opportunity to get outside of Happy Haven, that when she did, she always enjoyed the natural scenery.

  “A perfect April day!” exclaimed Prudence. Soon, they had arrived at the doctor’s office. Actually, it was a small brick building located conveniently along the highway. Prudence parked directly across from the entrance and shortly the two women were inside and waiting in the doctor’s lobby.

  Almost immediately, the nurse called Essie’s name and she wheeled herself down the narrow hallway and around several corners into the small office. Prudence followed and the two women seated themselves before the doctor’s impressive desk. They always enjoyed commenting on the doctor’s array of unusual artwork on the walls and strange sculptures on her desk. However, today, they didn’t have time for that because the doctor entered from another door and immediately seated herself at the desk.

  “Miss Essie,” said the plain female physician with her hair pulled back into a loose bun, “how have you been?”

  “Fine, Dr. Payne,” said Essie politely, “Just fine.”

  “Now, let’s see, you’re at Happy Haven, right?” Essie always thought it was unusual that she was seeing this doctor for, among other things, memory loss and the doctor never seemed to remember anything about her.

  “Right,” responded Essie.

  “And how are you feeling?” continued the doctor, looking from her folder on her desk up at Essie.

  “Fine, doctor.”

  “Eating well?”

  “Oh, yes.”

  “Getting exercise?”

  “Oh, yes.”

  “What about activities?” the doctor continued.

  “I play Bingo,” offered Essie.

  “Really?” queried the doctor, the tip of her pen between her teeth. “Do you ever win?”

  “Once in a while.”

  “That must be exciting!”

  “It is!” said Essie. “One of our residents won the other night and he collapsed and fell into a coma!”

  “When he won at Bingo?” she asked.

  “Yes. Well, not right when he won,” Essie said, correcting herself.

  “Oh?” asked the doctor.

  “No, now that I think about it,” said Essie, thinking hard, “he was fine when he won. It wasn’t until he went up to claim his prize that he collapsed.”

  “What was the prize?” chuckled the doctor. “A Ferrari?”

  “No, just a dollar bill,” said Essie.

  “I can’t imagine him getting all that excited over a dollar bill,” noted the doctor, “unless, of course, he was really poverty stricken.”

  “He’s definitely not poor,” said Essie.

  “Then it must have been something else,” suggested the doctor.

  “Yes,” agreed Essie.

  The doctor moved on. “How’s your memory, Essie?”

  “Fine.”

  “What’s your name?”

  “Essie Cobb.”

  “How old are you?”

  “Ninety.”

  “She just had her birthday,” interjected Prudence. “It was a great party!”

  “I’m sure it was!” said the doctor, smiling. “Essie, do you know the date?”

  “Uh, Tuesday, April 5, 2011.”

  “That’s right. What about the President?”

  “What about him?” retorted Essie.

  “I mean, who is the President?” asked the doctor. Essie responded correctly. “What about the governor?”

  “Who?” asked Essie, looking flustered.

  “Doctor,” said Prudence quickly, “I don’t think it’s that she doesn’t remember the name of the governor. It’s more that she’s just not interested in politics.”

  “I see,” said the doctor. “There must be a lot going on over at Happy Haven that keeps you occupied.”

  “Oh, yes,” said Essie.

  “That’s good,” said the doctor. Essie smiled. “Essie, do you have any questions?”

  “Do you know anything about Medilogicos?” Essie asked abruptly.

  The doctor laughed. “My goodness, Essie. That’s quite a question. Medilogicos is a large medical software company.”

  “Are they—uh—successful?” asked Essie.

  “I’d say they are,” the doctor said, smiling. “We use their services. Truthfully, they’ve revolutionized a lot of medical testing and how we interact with patients.”

  “Good,” said Essie. “Then their executives are probably not poor.”

  “I would think not,” said the doctor. “Have you heard of Bill Gates?”

  “They’re as rich as him?”

  “Not quite, but believe me—Medilogicos is well known in the medical community.”

  “That’s good to hear, doctor,” noted Essie.

  “I guess we’ll just keep things the way they are then, Essie; okay? I’ll call in renewals for all your meds.”

  “Good,” replied Essie.

  “And I’ll see you in six months.”

  “Okay,” agreed Essie. The doctor beamed at Essie, shook her hand, and then exited out the back door in the office. Prudence and Essie rose and ambled out into the lobby. Essie waited as Prudence made her six month appointment. She was thinking about what she had talked about with the doctor—not about her health or memory. None of that. She was thinking about the conversation about Bob’s collapse at Bingo and how he hadn’t fallen right when he got the Bingo; he had fallen when he went up and claimed his dollar bill. That didn’t make a lot of sense now that she thought about it. If Bob was all that upset—about Ben Jericho or Violet Hendrickson—or whoever or whatever was worrying him—you’d think that the added stress of actually winning would send him over the top—anxiety-wise. You wouldn’t think that he’d be just fine during that exciting part and manage to walk all the way over to the center of the room and reach out and grab that dollar bill—and only then hit the floor.

  Prudence came into the lobby.

  “Let’s go, Mom!” she said and the women headed out of the doctor’s office and back to Happy Haven—the scene of enough excitement to keep Essie’s memory and mental
faculties in top form for a long time. Gerontologists! Ha!

  Chapter Twenty-three

  “Those who love deeply never grow old; they may die of old age, but they die young.”

  —Sir Arthur Pinero

  When she returned from the doctor’s office, it was still relatively early in the morning. Essie checked back in, said goodbye to her daughter, and dropped off her coat. Then after a quickie (meaning a quick potty break), she headed out into the family room. None of her three compatriots were in sight, so she continued rolling towards the back of the room and down the narrow hallway leading towards the chapel.

  As she slid inside the small room and her eyes eventually adjusted to the darkness, she observed a figure in one of the front pews. From the colorful scarf on her head, she knew it was Evelyn Cudahy. Evelyn’s head was bowed and Essie did not wish to disturb her. She pulled her walker over to the side of a back pew and sat down and waited. After a few moments, Evelyn looked up and rose. Turning and starting to walk down the chapel’s center aisle, she saw Essie sitting quietly in the back.

  “Essie,” said Evelyn, walking slowly over and sitting in the pew in front of Essie. “We meet again.”

  “Hello, Evelyn,” said Essie. “Are you feeling better than last night?”

  “Yes, as a matter of fact, I’m doing remarkably well today,” she said joyously. “I believe that last night I was just overcome with exhaustion and concern.”

  “For Bob?”

  “Yes,” she answered, “of course, for Bob.”

  “And today you’re greatly improved.”

  “Yes,” she replied, then added quietly, “I spoke with him just a little while ago on the phone. Oh, Essie, he’s well enough to call me.”

  “How wonderful!”

  “You just don’t know!” said Evelyn. “I didn’t know that I’d ever talk to him again.” Tears welled in her eyes and she pulled a rolled up tissue from her pocket and wiped them.

  “You are certainly a very good friend to Bob, Evelyn.”

  “Essie,” said Evelyn. “Essie, I’m looking at you and I believe you are very smart, very intuitive.” Essie remained quiet, listening. “I think you know, don’t you?”

  “About you and Bob? I think you and Bob are more than just friends, Evelyn,” responded Essie.

  Evelyn’s tears welled again and her nose began to run. Her tissue was soon working overtime.

  “We are,” she replied. “Essie, it’s only a secret because we were waiting for the right moment. And then Bob collapsed at Bingo and—oh—it’s just been a nightmare. What was supposed to be wonderful turned into this nightmare.”

  “A secret?” asked Essie.

  “Bob and I are married,” she whispered.

  “Married?” responded Essie, shocked. So Bev was right.

  “Just a few days before the Bingo episode, we went to city hall and eloped.”

  “Oh, my!” said Essie. “I had no idea.”

  “No,” said Evelyn. “Not many people do—just Hazel and Rose. They helped us with the wedding. They’ve been wonderful. Hazel’s with me almost all the time to assist me with my chemo. Rose has been visiting Bob in the hospital because I’m not allowed to.”

  “But if you’re his wife, surely they’d let you in,” argued Essie.

  “It’s not that,” explained Evelyn. “I’m not allowed in for my sake, because of the chemo. They won’t let me in that part of the hospital.”

  “But you got to speak to him today—that’s wonderful!”

  “Yes,” agreed Evelyn. “I feel so confident now that he’ll recuperate and be back here soon.”

  “Did he say anything about what upset him so before Bingo? You know, you said he had something important he wanted to tell you.”

  “He didn’t tell me on the phone, but he did say to be careful.”

  “Do you think whatever he’s worried about is what was worrying him the afternoon before Bingo? You know, the thing he wanted to tell you about but didn’t get a chance.”

  “I don’t know why he said to be careful, Essie. I don’t know what he wanted to tell me after Bingo.”

  “Do you think maybe he discovered something?”

  “Like what?”

  “I don’t know,” replied Essie, not wanting to reveal her hand, “maybe something about a staff member or maybe somebody from outside had contacted him. You never know.”

  “I guess he’s just worried about me and my chemo, but my oncologist says that I’m doing well.”

  “That’s wonderful, Evelyn,” said Essie, touching her arm which rested now on the top of the pew in front of Essie. “Did Bob say any more about what the doctors think caused him to collapse?”

  “He did say something strange. He said they found some unusual substance in his bloodstream. They don’t know what it is. He said they didn’t know if it was the cause of his coma, but evidently they’re still investigating. Whatever it is—or was—it appears to have drained from his system. It’s actually probably lucky that he collapsed and was hospitalized when he was because they were able to give him a transfusion and that was no doubt helpful in getting rid of this substance.”

  “No doubt,” agreed Essie, contemplating the information Evelyn had just imparted to her.

  “When he returns, then you’ll announce that you’re married?”

  “We plan to, yes.”

  “We’ll have to throw a big party for you!”

  “That would be lovely, but please keep it very low key,” she begged. “We both just need some peace and quiet.”

  “Then, that’s what you will get!” she said, patting Evelyn’s hand. With that, Essie bid farewell to the new bride and headed out of the chapel and back to her room. She had a lot to contemplate before lunch.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  “Middle age is when your age starts to show around your middle.”

  —Bob Hope

  Lunch was uneventful. Essie, Opal, Marjorie, and Fay dined on chef salads and homemade rolls. They waved at Evelyn, Rose, and Hazel when the three women from Bob Weiderley’s table arrived shortly after they did. Essie was itching to tell her tablemates about Bob and Evelyn’s secret wedding but true to her word, she kept quiet.

  “Where were you all morning?” asked Marjorie. “I looked for you at trivia.”

  “Pru took me to my gerontologist,” Essie responded, not adding that she also spent time extracting information from Evelyn Cudahy. “I’m healthy as a horse.”

  “I’ve known some pretty sickly horses in my day,” claimed Opal who had grown up on a farm.

  “My old person doc says I’m a healthy old person! There! Is that better?”

  “What about your memory?” queried Opal. “You always forget what you ate the very next day.”

  “So?” scowled Essie. “Who cares if I remember what I eat? It’s not important.”

  “Oh, it could be important, Essie,” explained Marjorie in her sweet elementary school teacher guise. “Just imagine if you weren’t supposed to eat something you were allergic to and you forgot if you ate it or not!”

  “What!” Essie sputtered. “You two are ridiculous. Fay, you have the right idea. Just sleep through lunch!”

  Fay opened an eye when she heard her name. When she saw that her friends were embroiled in a row, she quickly went back to sleep.

  “I found out something!” announced Opal, when the hubbub had quieted. “Violet recently got a raise. A big one.”

  “How’d you find that out?” asked Essie.

  “My morning aide, Jerold, heard it from another aide who heard it from another aide.”

  “That’s hearsay,” said Marjorie. “It might not be true.”

  “It probably is,” said Essie. “And for what does she get a raise? It’s not as if she does anything.”

  “Essie! Why are you all of a sudden so opposed to Violet?”

  “Because,” noted Essie, “I finished reading all those minutes from that Board of Directors’ meeting back before she
was hired. The minutes that Fay printed for us from the computer. Turns out . . .—“ She leaned in and Marjorie and Opal leaned in to hear.

  “Turns out she was selected from three candidates.”

  “So?” asked Marjorie. “She must have been the best of the three.”

  “The best of the three as far as having a good family name and highly placed social standing,” said Essie.

  “What?” shrieked Opal.

  “You heard me. I read those minutes and it was quite obvious that those Board members had only gone through the motions of interviewing those candidates. Violet evidently came from the more prominent family and that appeared to be the deciding factor.”

  “Not her credentials?” asked Opal.

  “Oh, her credentials were as good as the other two candidates, at least that’s what the minutes claim, but wouldn’t you think if you had three equally qualified candidates, you’d want to interview them more so that you could select the best one—versus just picking the one with the best social standing?” Essie was adamant in her disgust.

  “They must have made a reasonably good decision,” noted Marjorie. “Violet’s been here over twelve years without any problems.”

  “Until now,” said Essie.

  “You mean . . .—” suggested Opal.

  “This episode with Bob is not over. Mark my words,” argued Essie.

  “But Essie,” pleaded Marjorie, “he’s out of the coma. He’ll probably be released. How is Violet responsible? She called the ambulance. It seems to me she played everything by the book.”

  “Hmmm,” pondered Essie. “We’ll see.”

  “What else could there be?” asked Opal.

  “Poison,” whispered Essie.

  “What?” whispered Marjorie. “I thought we discussed this before and you gave up on that ridiculous idea!”

  “It’s not ridiculous,” answered Essie. “I just spoke to Evelyn this morning. She talked to Bob on the phone a bit ago and he told her that the doctors found a suspicious substance in his bloodstream. They don’t know what it is—or was—because it’s apparently drained from his system now.”