by Beers, B. A.
“I hope that teaching your mistress will be that easy,” Mark said to the disappearing dog.
“Amen to that,” Grandma Jo added.
He glanced over at Grandma Jo, and crossing his fingers so she could see, he walked out the back door.
The brisk morning air made him aware that he still was bare-chested. Not wanting to appear a sissy and retreat for a shirt, he stepped to the edge of the patio to bask in the sunlight. Feeling that Sami was looking at him, he spoke without turning. “I need to report to the office this morning, but I will be back around noon.” He almost added ‘to begin your treatment’, but stopped himself, not wanting to spoil the morning or put her on her guard.
“Okay,” she said after a few moments. “It will give me time to work on Grandma Jo’s kitchen.”
Mark nodded and quickly moved back into the warm house.
***
When Mark was ready for work, he made his way back to the kitchen. Grandma Jo was at the sink, washing the dishes. He reminded her to page him if necessary. He stood by the back door and saw Sami brushing Molly. He tapped on the glass to get her attention. When she looked up, he waved. She waved back in return, and he moved to leave the house.
“Mark,” Grandma Jo called after him. “I have something for you.” He turned and watched her walk over to the desk in the corner. Retrieving a large envelope, she headed back to him. He reached out and took the envelope she held out to him.
“Sami’s file.” Grandma Jo responded. “I spotted it on the counter at Sami’s house when we returned yesterday. I thought you might need it.”
“Thank you,” he said. “You’re right.” Stepping forward, he kissed the top of her head and left the house.
***
SEVEN
Driving back to Grandma Jo’s house that afternoon, Mark was in a foul mood. He still couldn’t believe that being out of the office only a day and a half would have created so many little fires he had to extinguish himself. Of course, he reminisced that he had initiated the first fire when he hit the door of the clinic that morning, barking orders like a five-star general. Within minutes, he had most of the staff running around the clinic like chickens with their heads chopped off. At the memory of this fact, a devilish grin spread across his face. Mark, my boy, you, and only you were responsible for the havoc you experienced today. Demanding, like a mad man, to have your schedule for the rest of the week changed at a drop of a hat. He had even assigned dependable Mrs. Mills to the basement to verify all files against old appointment books, since he didn’t want a repeat of the confusion caused on Monday by Sami’s missing file. You brought this on yourself. The grin on his face was replaced with a wrinkle-causing frown.
Mark glanced at the time displayed on his truck’s radio. He swore under his breath, knowing that he was three hours late. He recalled his conversation with Grandma Jo around eleven in the morning when he informed her of his potential lateness. Her reassurance that all was fine did little to ease his feeling of dread. The longer he delayed, the feeling intensified to match. The knowledge of David’s expected arrival did not alarm her one iota. She, in fact, promised to use his muscle in helping them move things around.
With his thoughts returning to the day’s activities, he suddenly became aware of one pure and simple fact,. He had been totally worthless in all his sessions. His mind had been preoccupied with Sami. However, he surmised, none of patients had given him any indication that he had failed them in any way. Thank God that he had recorded every session for transcription purposes. He made a mental note to read them all later.
The vibrating of his pager brought him out of his thoughtful mood. He yanked it out of the holder and swore again. Now what, he thought angrily, fearing another fire would keep him away from Sami. Seeing the display made the hair on the back of his neck to rise. He pulled over into the nearest gas station. The number was not the problem, for he knew it. The added 911 at the end of the number caused the reaction. Placing the pager on the dashboard, he opened the center console between the seats and removed his cell phone. Numbly, he activated the phone and dialed the number. On the first ring, the phone was answered.
“Mark!” a frantic female voice, cried into the phone.
“What’s happened?” he choked out.
“She left.”
“What?” Mark was shaking.
“Mrs. Carter retrieved her dog and stormed out of here.”
“How long ago?”
“Just moments ago.”
“Where’s David?”
“Here.”
“Have him follow her. I am close and I think I know where she is going. I’ll call you back.”
Tossing the phone on the seat next to him, Mark slammed the truck into gear and raced in the direction of Sami’s house. Honking his horn, he broke many traffic laws in the need to arrive there before her. He knew it would be difficult to gain access if she got there first.
***
Sami was running when she reached the end of Grandma Jo’s driveway. Each time her foot made contact with the pavement, she felt like spikes were being driven into her body, causing almost unbearable pain. She tried to slow her stride to relieve the intensity, but each step was still painful.
“Why?” The one word question screamed from her lungs. The word echoed in her mind repeatedly.
Fresh anger at everything surged through her at the repeating word, bringing with it rapid glimpses of her tragic life. The dreaded images blinded her, making her stumble several times, and finally causing her to be pitched forward forcefully toward the ground. She threw out her arms to protect herself, but the impact with the unforgiving edge of the concrete sidewalk caused a bone to break in her left forearm. The physical pain in her body now drowned out the emotional turmoil in her head. The images stopped as her eyes focused to view her broken arm, lying awkwardly across the curb of the sidewalk. Anger gave way to her self-pity, as she pulled her arm gingerly across her chest. She closed her eyes and lay there, not caring about anything, even when Molly decided to take this opportunity to lick her face.
***
Taking the corner at high speed, Mark was thankful that there were no oncoming cars to block his path. Seconds counted in this race; he had to get there before Sami. Whipping into her driveway behind her car, instead of parking in the street, he slammed the gearshift lever into park, and turned the truck off. He was out of the truck in a flash.
Peering down the street, he hoped he was not too late. He rushed to the door and tried the knob. It was locked. Pounding on the door, he yelled her name. “Sami!” Too impatient to wait for a response, he headed to the gate leading to the backyard. Opening the gate, he scanned for Molly. He called out the dog’s name, but the yard was empty.
It finally dawned on him that he must have beaten her to the house. He turned and hurried back to the front. Wondering how it was possible to get here before her, he frowned. Knowing that Grandma Jo’s place was less than a half mile from here, he figured that even on foot she should have been here by now.
Mark walked to the end of the driveway and looked both directions. She was nowhere in sight. “Where is she?” he asked the empty street. “Where else would she go?” He had thought for sure that this house would be her destination. Baffled, Mark thought of different places she might go, but eliminated them all, knowing that Molly was with her. “You’re making yourself crazy,” Mark spoke out loud. “Calm down. She’ll show up eventually; just wait.”
Taking several deep breaths, he stepped back next to the truck to wait. After several minutes had passed, Mark began to realize that he was not good at waiting. He started pacing to work-off some of the mounting anxiety he was feeling. Stopping in mid-stride, he felt that something was wrong, dead wrong. Eyeing the truck, he moved toward it; searching for her was better than pacing here in front of her house. Besides, if he stayed here much longer, he feared that the neighbors would call the police. Right now, he didn’t relish the idea of being detained by them.
> Stepping into the truck, he saw his pager dance along the top of the dashboard. Damn, he thought, remembering that he had placed it there when he had reached for the cell phone earlier. Stretching out, he claimed the pager. Quickly seeing the display quieted his discomfort. Grandma Jo’s number flashed at him. He prayed that Sami had returned there, and all his fretting was for nothing. Picking up the cell phone again and punching the redial button, he hoped that things were back in place. With renewed spirit, he started the truck.
***
Grandma Jo picked up on the first ring. “Mark?”
“Yeah, I knew she’d come back. I am over….” Mark started cheerfully.
“Get over here fast,” Grandma Jo interrupted him.
Mark had missed the meaning behind her tone when she answered the phone, but this time it shot down his high spirits. “What?” he questioned.
“Too much to explain on the phone, just get over here quick,” she spoke breathlessly.
“I’ll be there in a jiffy.” Mark hit the power button on the phone and tossed it on the passenger’s seat as he flew down the street.
Grandma Jo was standing on the sidewalk in front of her house when he came around the corner. Pulling up in front of her, he anxiously watched her struggle into his truck. Over her shoulder, he saw the two dogs peeking out the front window. Mark switched his focus to Grandma Jo, who was holding back tears.
“Start talking,” he instructed.
“Drive,” she shot back.
“Where?”
“To St. Thomas Hospital’s emergency room,” she choked as the tears started flowing.
“Wait a minute.” Mark was bewildered.
“No. Hurry! They left about ten minutes ago,” she directed. “I’ll explain while you drive.”
Mark automatically released his foot on the brake and started down the street. “She has a fear of hospitals,” he said angrily to the world at large, not directly at Grandma Jo.
“I know. Sami told us that,” she replied, as she cowered in the corner of the seat fearing Mark’s wrath.
He caught the expression on her face, and cursed at his stupidity, knowing she was already upset about Sami. Bury it, Mark, bury it deep. He told himself. “What happened?” he asked, forcing his tone to be natural. Hearing the calmer voice, Grandma Jo sat back up straight.
“She fell, and I believe, broke her arm,” she stated, trying to control her raging emotions.
Mark stared at her. “How in the world did she do that?”
“I really don’t know. I sent David after her, per your instructions, and the next thing I know, he is pounding at the door with Sami in his arms.” She continued while wiping her eyes with a tissue. “I sent David to the kitchen for ice after he placed her on the couch, then I paged you.” She looked at him as if it was his fault that Sami was injured. “When you didn’t answer the page right away, I had David bundle her up and drive her to the emergency room. That’s when she told us about her strong feelings regarding hospitals. She fought us hard, Mark, but we had no other choice.”
Mark understood completely. “I just hope we arrive before all hell breaks loose.” They rode in silence for a few minutes; both were caught up in the events that had happened.
“Grandma Jo?” Mark asked, needing to know the answer before they got to the hospital.
“Yes,” she answered in a lost voice.
“What happened to awaken 'Mrs. Carter'?”
Grandma Jo looked at him, then dropped her eyes downward. “It’s my fault,” she confessed.
“What did you do?” Mark encouraged her to continue.
“It’s what I didn’t do is more like it,” she mumbled making it difficult for Mark to hear.
“What do you mean by that comment?”
“I didn’t follow your instructions to the letter,” she replied with much guilt.
“Which instruction?”
“To hide all the clocks and calendars. We finished organizing the kitchen and had moved on into the family room. I just didn’t think, Mark, or I would have never allowed her near my desk. At the time, it never crossed my mind that she didn’t know the date or year. To tell you the truth, I thought that it was a bunch of hooey. I saw her write out a check for groceries. I didn’t know that she left the date blank until David told me that he had to fill it in before he gave it to his manager. Anyway, she found the little calendar from my insurance agent on the desk and went ballistic on us. Ranting that it was impossible, she thought that we were demons sent to drive her crazy. It was rather scary.”
Mark reached out and patted her hand on her leg. “I’m sorry for putting you through this trauma. It is not your fault, it’s mine.”
“It’s not your fault, either,” she responded.
“You know, Grandma Jo, you can back out of the situation at any time,” Mark stressed.
“Are you kidding?” She piped back. “I’m in too deep to crawl out on my belly now. I just need to arm myself better for the next attack.”
Approaching St. Thomas, Mark asked her one last question. “Which of her personalities were in control the last time you saw her?”
“Sami.”
***
EIGHT
There was no reason to ask where Sami was when they entered the emergency room; they both heard her the second they walked in the door. Spotting David just inside the door, Grandma Jo hurried over to him. They embraced drawing strength from the other.
Mark nodded a greeting to David and turned to the desk nurse. He identified himself and without further ado was shown into the ‘pits’ of the emergency room. He had to refrain from laughing out loud at the scene before him. He found Sami standing on a chair in the middle of the room with surgical scissors in the hand of her good arm, raised above her head swearing and threatening everyone in sight. He also spotted two uniformed security guards nearby with their hands on the top of their Billy clubs. They were trying desperately to reach her.
Mark spoke four words above the volume level of the room that caused the room to be silent. “Mrs. Carter, let’s go!”
She turned in the direction of his voice. With hair covering her face, he was unable to see her eyes. He saw her head swing back and forth as if she was scanning the room at the people there. Stopping the head movements, she thrust the scissors out a couple of times at people in her way as she got down from the chair and headed in his direction.
Mark peered down at her and tried to brush the hair away from her face. He believed that the pain in her arm was masked by the power of 'Mrs. Carter'. Yet, this power was not strong enough to stop the sweat pouring down her temples, causing her hair to cling to her face or the twitching of her damaged arm. Sami turned, and pressed her back against him and started jabbing out with the scissors again.
Mark gingerly placed his hand on her good arm and brought it back somewhat under his control. He mouthed to the attending physician, who knew him, for a strong sedative. The doctor caught his message and disappeared from sight. Within seconds, he was beside Mark with the requested sedative. Mark indicated for him to place it in his pocket and felt the capped syringe drop inside. “I’ll be back,” Mark whispered to him, as he backed out the emergency room through the ambulance entrance with Sami in tow.
Now outside the hospital, he slipped his hand down her arm and removed the scissors. To his relief, she didn’t fight him. With Sami still in his arms, he guided her to a nearby bench and stepped aside allowing her to sit. She sat down gingerly and grabbed her broken arm. With the adrenaline level decreasing, the pain level rose. Mark had the chance now to view her. He noticed that the left arm was the broken one. Good, she will still be able to paint, he thought selfishly, already knowing that she was right-handed from watching her write the check earlier.
“Sami?” Mark asked tentatively.
“Yes,” she said with pain in her voice.
Glad to be dealing with 'Sami' instead of 'Mrs. Carter', he asked. “Will you allow me to help you?”
&nb
sp; She didn’t respond to his question.
He tried again. “Sami, may I give you something for the pain?”
Watching her now begin to shake all over, he sat next to her on her right side staying away from her injured arm. He wanted to hold her, but knew that, in her current state, it was impossible.
Slowly, she turned her head in his direction. Still unable to see her face, he reached out and drew back her hair, so that it was not blocking his view. This gave him his first look at her injuries on her face; it was a wreck. Not only were her eyes producing barrels of tears, but the left one was also showing evidence of the beginning of an emerging black eye. Her left cheek was red and scraped where it had met with the concrete. The ‘road rash’ was still embedded with dirt and small blades of grass. He watched the paths of her tears turn the dirt into streaks of mud.
