Chapter 15
“Borrowed Time”
The singsong tweets of chirping birds disturbed Norman from his long night of restful sleep. When he opened his eyes to see what their issue was, he discovered his sheets glowing from the effects of the morning sunshine. Upon reaching for his glasses, he found the new day reporting to him old news. As usual, sunrays pricked through the gaps in the oak tree’s crown, and shone through his window in fragments, shifting the light as the wind shook the leaves. Like always, the chirping birds serenaded him from a place that he could not quite identify. Once again, for the umpteenth time, he had nothing notable to look forward to for the day, especially now that he was getting feverish.
But he was alive.
Even though he was sure the nurses would come by to round him and the other able-bodied residents into the cafeteria for breakfast soon, he thought it would’ve been better to start the day trying to figure out where those birds were coming from. They had been waking him every morning for the last two weeks, and he wanted to know where they were perched.
He felt a sharp pain in his back as he tried to sit up, but it slowly went away after he took a few deep breaths and coughed a couple of times. Once the pain completely subsided, he looked out the window to see what he could discover. He spotted the birds perching near the top of the big oak tree. He tried to open the window to call out to them, but it was locked. Instead, he tapped on the window to get their attention.
“Good morning, Mister Jenson,” said a chipper voice from behind. “Ready for your medicine?”
Norman pressed his face against the glass. He didn’t want anything else to do with medicine.
“Mister Jenson?” continued the voice.
The slight clack of heeled shoes steadily approached him. His face slid down the glass about an inch.
“Please go away,” he said. “I’ve had enough medicine in my lifetime to kill me.”
“Sir, are you sure? It might make you feel better.”
Norman looked beyond the oak tree to see the old gray-bearded man riding his mower in the graveyard across the way. He wished he were the man mowing the lawn. He didn’t feel envious because the man was cutting grass, but because the man was breathing fresh air. He really wanted some fresh air.
“Do you really want to help me?” he asked.
“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”
“Then could you see if my cane has ever been returned? I’d like to go for a walk.”
“Yes, I can do that. Be back in just a moment.”
The heeled shoes clacked away from the bed and exited the room. He breathed a sigh of relief. Freedom was his again, even if temporary. He wiped the sweat off his brow with the back of his hand and coughed.
Norman continued to gaze out the window to see if he could discover a new story to tell. He watched the birds hop from branch to branch as they continued to sing their mysterious songs, enchanting those who happened to listen. As he observed their unique methods of life, he wondered what it would be like to fly, to be able to go wherever he wanted whenever he wanted, and to do so without the decay of time pulling him down. For a moment he dreamed that he would know the answer someday. As the fantasy continued, he wondered if today could be that day.
The footsteps returned a short time later.
“I found your cane, Mister Jenson. Someone left it at the nurses’ station.”
Norman turned around to see the nurse from the Bingo game standing just inside his doorway. She smiled at him as she set his cane beside his bed.
“The halls are beautiful today,” she said. “They’re covered with new spring decorations. I think you’ll love them.”
Norman reached for his trusty cane and set his feet to the floor. His joints cracked as he stood.
“There isn’t much that I love anymore,” he said. “What good is spring if I’m stuck in here?”
“Well, we tried to make it as close to spring in here as possible. We sprayed some spring-scented aerosol in the halls and living areas this morning. Now they smell like rivers and a field of flowers.”
Norman scuffed his feet along the wooden panels of his polished floor, doing his best to wake them up.
“Truthfully, I think I’d just like to die now. I’m sick of seeing this room.”
“If you’re unhappy with it, we could move you.”
Norman thought about her offer, but decided that she missed the point.
“No, I just want out of here,” he said.
He gripped his cane tightly.
“You know, it’s funny,” he said, as he stared blankly at the floor. “I tried so hard to fight death so that I could get to my beach house, and maybe see the new century. But now that I’ve seen it, and now that I know I’ll never get home, death won’t come soon enough. I can’t win here.”
He coughed again.
“Would milk and cookies cheer you up?”
Norman nearly smiled at her offbeat remark, but couldn’t find the strength to raise the corners of his lips.
“No, I’d rather just be left alone,” he said.
“Okay, well holler if you change your mind about the medicine. I won’t be far away.”
The Bingo nurse set a half-empty glass of water on Norman’s nightstand and moseyed out the door. She whistled as she rounded the corner. The sound of her chirps receded until all Norman could hear was the tone of raucous hallway ear-clutter.
Norman was relieved to have his cane in hand again. The separation he endured for the last few months was maddening, so the idea of him escaping the confines of this section of the building was pleasant to him. He placed his other hand over his first to secure his hold. As he felt comfortable gripping the metal hook for the first time in a long time, he attempted to stand with it.
At first, the sensation of standing without a chair was unsettling to him, since four legs were certainly more stable than one, but he adjusted to the cane quickly. He tried walking with it next.
Norman managed to shuffle into the hall without falling down. The routine felt almost natural again. Even though it was painful to move, he didn’t want to stop. He had to get the blood circulating again. He had to get his biological engines fired up.
He wanted to grab for the railing alongside the wall in case he needed that extra support, but decided he could get better practice without it. He walked down the center of the skinny hall, taking in all the spring cardboard designs, smelling the fresh flower-scented aerosol. He thought the new setup was much more pleasing than the cold winter designs of the last season, and the smell of meadows and roses outweighed the joys of him smelling urine and bandages by leaps and bounds.
When he got to the end of the hall successfully, he decided to try walking to the television room. After making that trip without falling, he headed for the cafeteria. As his tiny trek around the nursing home progressed, his legs and his back became more steadied. His balance improved and his stamina increased as he rounded the halls of the south wing. When he approached the doors to the picnic area, he figured he’d try loosening his grip on his cane.
“What are you doing out of your room, Mister Jenson?” said a voice from behind.
Norman turned around to see a grumpy looking nurse standing just outside an office with her thick arms crossed and her mustache twitching. He smiled at the behemoth.
“I’m walking again,” he said.
“You know that you’re supposed to stay in your room, don’t you?” she replied. “We kept your cane from you so that you would stay put and let the medicine do its work. Who gave it to you?”
Norman clutched his cane tightly, fearing that the female gorilla in white would steal it from him and knock him to the ground, then sweep him back to his empty room. His knees trembled as he stared at her pulsing Adam’s apple.
“I’ll go back to my room after a while,” he whispered. “Just let me enjoy this moment, please? Grant this old soul one more dream before he passes on.”
“Oh, stop being s
o dramatic.”
The nurse studied her watch.
“Okay, you got five minutes. Then somebody has to take you back. Is that understood?”
Norman nodded, though he did it more for show than for compliance. The thought of having just five minutes to enjoy his freedom seemed far too short for comfort. But he didn’t argue with her because he knew the rationalization of the nursing staff was far below that of a convicted serial killer, and he really didn’t want to test her. So he left it alone and accepted her graciousness. Upon his agreement, the nurse uncrossed her arms and knuckle-walked back into her office. When her door closed to a crack, he continued on his way to the cafeteria.
The cafeteria didn’t have much going on when he arrived, so he shuffled toward the guest area. On many occasions, he’d encountered numerous unfamiliar faces taking up seats in the entertainment section of the guestroom, watching television or reading magazines as they waited. They were typically young families consisted of mothers and children. Every day revealed someone new, and each new face meant a new adventure or story to tell. Remembering those days of old, he figured he could relive those fond memories if he took a seat near the magazine rack. That was usually where families were the chattiest.
When he arrived, he didn’t find anyone new sitting on the leather sofas, but a few residents sat just outside the front door in their wheelchairs. So he thought he would go out there and greet them instead.
As soon as he stepped outside, Norman caught a cool breeze in his face. It was chilly, but certainly refreshing to his skin—when it didn’t make him shiver. He also caught sight of the beautiful blue sky and the lush green park across the street. As a flock of birds soared low overhead, signifying the first real sign of animation that he had seen in the last few months, he realized that the true feeling of spring was unlike any falsity he had felt in quite some time. The crispness of the air recharged his dull senses, something of which had been steadily repressed since the nurses started locking him in his room. As he embraced the feeling of change, he stepped further away from the front door, hoping to catch a better whiff of the breeze that blew through. Goosebumps covered his skin as the cool air touched his spine.
It didn’t take long for Norman to realize that the outdoors was a much more suitable place for him than the stale box the nurses forced him to call a room. The singing birds might have woken him up frequently in the past, but their tweets were far more pleasant than the wails and whines of old ladies in pain. Sleeping on the grass might have invited creepy crawly things to take adventures up his pant legs, but the softness of the earth would have been more soothing for his back than his hard mattress. The thought of living out here instead of within the frigid walls of the nursing home was attractive to him, but he knew he had to return to his room soon, or they’d send out a search party, so he tried not to get too attached to the new environment, or to his new dream. But he wanted to savor his remaining time out here as much as he could.
As he let his thoughts soak in, the sound of the lawnmower in the graveyard stole his attention.
He had never met the graveyard’s groundskeeper before. The truth was he didn’t think he ever wanted to, but most mornings the lawnmower and the man who rode it were the only signs of life that Norman had to awake to. He figured it wouldn’t have hurt to say hello for once, since it was obvious the man would probably never come to him.
When Norman shuffled to the graveyard, he leaned onto his cane to garner firm support. He stood fast near the first gravestone and waved to get the old man’s attention. It took a few moments, but the old groundskeeper finally noticed him, just as his arm was getting tired. The groundskeeper cut off his engine.
“Hello,” said Norman. “So, we finally meet.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“You never came to my window to say hello, so I’m coming over here.”
The man looked confused. He stroked his long white beard; his eyes darted back and forth. Even though he must have been asking himself a thousand silent questions, he smiled anyway.
“Oh, well hello,” he said.
“Does mowing the graveyard ever get under your skin?” asked Norman.
The man continued to stroke his beard as his eyes glanced at the ground.
“Well, sometimes it does. But, the way I figure it, I gotta live here someday soon, so I should do what I can to make it look nice. It’s not always comforting, but it’s what I do.”
“Well, you’re doing a fine job. It’s the only thing I get to see anymore. This and that big oak tree over there. Wish I could see more, but I’m too old to complain about it. So, this is the view I have.”
The man draped his arms over the steering wheel.
“What would you rather see?” he asked.
“The beach,” said Norman. “I’ve been spending the last fifteen years hoping I could see the beach again. No, what year did they incarcerate me? Over twenty years. There’s something about the salty air that makes me happy. And something in my beach house I need to get to. But, those nurses won’t let anybody take me out of here. They say I’m too old to leave the premises. Now they say I’m too old to leave my room. I think my health is great for a hundred-year-old man, but they don’t agree. They think I’m incapable of taking care of myself. The only thing that would possibly change their mind now is a family member who agrees to take me home and hire a nurse to permanently care for me. But my kids won’t do that.”
“Is that legal?”
“I don’t know, but they seem to think it is. It’s a terrible way to spend the last days of my life, I think. I used to travel all over the place when I was younger. Even fought in the Great War, briefly. In my prime I got to experience the world and its cultures at its finest. War, business, family. I had it all. Now all I have to experience are enemas and oak trees.”
“But, can you say you’ve enjoyed your life?”
“I haven’t enjoyed my life since I got here. That much I can say. But, that’s why I want out.”
The old groundskeeper smiled as he rubbed his hands together.
“Well, I can empathize with you somewhat. I’m close to having to check-in there myself. My kids say I’m getting senile, but I remember everything they say. If anything, they’re the ones getting senile. It seems like they don’t remember anything I say. But, that’s the way we were meant to be I guess.”
Norman nodded. He looked at the sky again to make sure it was still blue. A few of the birds that were in the oak tree flew overhead. He coughed a rather phlegmy cough.
“Well,” he said, “I guess I should head back. Those nurses are probably getting the bloodhounds ready for me. But, please come say hello sometime whenever you’re out here. And if you ever find yourself at the beach, think of me.”
The man nodded but made no reply. Instead he glanced in the direction of the nursing home and paused. He held his gaze for almost a minute. Suddenly, he stepped off his lawnmower and trudged toward Norman. Norman wasn’t quite sure what prompted him to dethrone, but he extended his hand in case the man wanted to shake it. However, instead of giving Norman a traditional handshake good-bye, the man pulled him toward the lawnmower.
“What are you doing?” Norman asked.
“I had a good friend who lived there some time ago and died without ever having his last wish come true. The nurses in there did to him what you say they’re doing to you. So, I can’t in good conscience let you go back there without having your last wish come true.”
“You mean, you’re going to help me?”
“Tell me which window is yours so I can get whatever you need for the trip.”
Norman couldn’t believe this man was for real, but he pointed anyway. The next thing he knew, the groundskeeper entered the nursing home. He came back a few minutes later with some of Norman’s stuff. He handed him a blanket, along with some slippers and the deck of cards. Norman bundled the shoes and the cards inside the blanket.
“Okay,” said the groundskeeper, “get o
n the lawnmower quickly. The nurses are looking for you, and it won’t be long before they check here.”
“Are you sure you want to do this?”
“Just get on. This thing isn’t fast, so we have to move now if we’re to make a clean break.”
Norman decided not to argue with the man’s logic. Obeying his command, he hopped on the lawnmower and secured himself. The old man took the seat in front of him. As the groundskeeper turned the little key, the engine ripped tranquility apart. After the machine gave a quick lurch, they tore out of there like a slug out of hell and headed for the main road.
Cards in the Cloak Page 23
