Night Swimming

by Robin Schwarz

  “Dolly, why are you so kind? I mean, to me. Why are you...?”

  “Well, besides the fact that I love you, honey, you’re like the daughter I never had. Mr. Feingold and I tried and tried, and then we found out we couldn’t have children. That was a sad day. I wanted a little girl more than anything in the world. And because I’m an only child, I didn’t have a shot at even being an aunt. If I had had a daughter...I would be happy if she was just like you.”

  “Why? I’m one shade paler than milk.”

  “Because you’ve got guts. And I admire that. You’re not content to settle for what scraps life throws you. You want more. You remind me of myself in that way.”

  “And did you live happily ever after?”

  “Who lives happily ever after all the time? But I was lucky enough to figure out, at some point in all the pain, what was important to take away from it.”

  Blossom was still embracing Dolly. She didn’t want to let go. “And all this time I was looking for love, it was right here.”

  “It’s much closer than that. You see, Blossom, darling, it’s not in front of you; it’s not in back of you; it’s not sleeping beside you; no, it’s much closer than you ever imagined.”

  “Where?” Blossom asked, perplexed.

  “It’s right here.” And Dolly touched Blossom’s heart.

  Blossom stayed with Dolly for a couple more days and slept through New Year’s. On January first, Dolly opened Blossom’s door quietly and tiptoed in with a cup of coffee.

  “Blossom, darling, wake up. I have something really good to tell you.”

  Blossom opened one eye and peered up at Dolly. “You do? What?”

  “It’s a new year. You can get up and start over again.”

  CHAPTER 43

  THE FOLLOWING DAY, Blossom awoke in her own apartment. She forced herself up and into the shower. She looked in the mirror and drew her hands over her face. She had never looked so tired. Who was it who said of Peter O’toole that he was walking around to save on funeral expenses? God, that’s me!

  After dressing, she nursed her coffee by the window. There was Skip, cutting the lawn. Suddenly, she saw Jeannie enter the gate. He noticed her come in as well and turned off the mower. Blossom gazed at her like an owl studying a mouse. What was she doing here? She watched Jeannie hand Skip an envelope and stand there talking for several minutes.

  How do you do it, Jeannie?

  How do I do what?

  Stay so happy, never have a bad day?

  I don’t know; I just don’t let things get to me.

  Have you ever been depressed?

  No.

  Do you have any idea what that would feel like?

  Not really.

  What about love, Jeannie?

  What about it?

  Love just comes your way like that?

  Yup.

  Ever wonder what it’s all about, Jeannie?

  What what’s all about?

  Life?

  No, not really.

  Do you ever think about death, about what kind of impression you want to leave behind in this world?

  No.

  So you’re just happy, no worries, no questions, no sleepless nights?

  Pretty much. Isn’t everyone? Aren’t you?

  Me? Hell, life is just a bowl of cherries.

  A knock on the door woke her from the conversation she was having with herself.

  “Be right there,” she yelled, and pulled herself away from the window. It was Dolly, with Jigsy and Pip.

  “Ready?”

  “Yeah. Am I dressed okay?”

  “Perfect.”

  Blossom was wearing a plain beige A-line dress that was too big for her. But it was all she had. Everything else in her closet was even bigger.

  “So you still won’t tell me where we’re going?”

  “Nope. You’ll see. We’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

  They took Dolly’s car and headed off with the two dogs. Finally, Dolly took a right into the Cedars-Sinai Medical Center parking lot.

  “Dolly!” Blossom was surprised and upset.

  “What?”

  “I told you I didn’t want a second opinion. What are you doing?”

  “I’m doing what I do every Monday and Thursday. Bringing Jigsy and Pip to therapy.”

  “What? You have your dogs in therapy?”

  “Jigsy and Pip aren’t just your ordinary, happy-go-lucky everyday dogs, Blossom. They’re certified.”

  “They seem okay to me, Dolly. Aren’t you going a little overboard with this therapy thing?”

  “Not certifiable, certified. They got certified to be therapy dogs. They go through the hospital, into the different wards, and help the patients. You can’t believe how much joy they bring these people. A lot of these patients haven’t gotten out of here for weeks. Some are in critical care; some will go home; some won’t. When I bring the dogs in, it’s like bringing in a friend with only good news. They light up, young and old alike. The hospital started this program six years ago, but we’ve only been doing it for about eight months.”

  “I had to go through therapy training as well with Jigsy and Pip, to make sure we all knew how to act around the patients, the equipment. We’re a team in there.”

  “Why did you want me to come?”

  “Because I want you to see just how good something like this can make you feel.”

  Blossom followed Dolly into the hospital, with Jigsy and Pip in tow. Everyone was happy to see them.

  “Blossom, I’d like you to meet Alison and Liz.”

  “Nice to meet you, Blossom.” Liz and Alison worked in reception.

  “Blossom came to escort us on our rounds today.”

  “Oh, okay. Let me get you a pass, Blossom,” Liz said, writing her name on a small paper tag.

  Blossom, Dolly, Jigsy, and Pip went up to the children’s floor first. The children were in their individual rooms, sleeping, watching TV, getting checked by roving doctors, sitting with their families. When Jigsy and Pip entered, the mood changed immediately. It was as if a light came on in a dark room. They would go directly over to the kids for licks and pats.

  Some of the kids were too weak to sit up, but even they managed a smile when Jigsy and Pip began their rounds. A small girl named Heather occupied the last room on the children’s floor. Dolly and Blossom quietly walked in.

  “Hi, Heather. Are you up for a visit from Jigsy and Pip today?”

  Heather nodded. She was thin and pale, and the dark rings under her eyes were accentuated by the unfortunate baldness she had to endure.

  “What’s your name?” she asked Blossom. “You’re new.”

  “Blossom.”

  “That’s so pretty.”

  “Thank you.”

  “When I was home last time, we planted a garden.”

  “What did you plant?” Blossom asked.

  “We planted pansies, tulips, and daffodils. My sister told me the daffodils will come up year after year.”

  “She’s right. I planted daffodils once, and they bloomed for years.”

  “They blossomed!” Heather giggled.

  “That they did,” Blossom said, smiling back.

  “I don’t think I’ll see them blossom again,” Heather said softly. Her candor startled Blossom. She lifted Jigsy’s paws up so Heather could pat him.

  “My sister says that I don’t have to worry about missing the daffodils. She said they grow in heaven.”

  “I bet they do. I bet there are roses and daisies and irises and hyacinths.”

  “I told my sister when the daffodils come up in the garden next year, then she’ll know I’m saying hi.”

  Blossom turned away; she didn’t want Heather so see the tears in her eyes. But it was unnecessary; the uncanny sixth sense both children and animals possess had already alerted Heather to Blossom’s sadness.

  “I’m not afraid, Blossom. You know why?”

  A little girl who’s dying, trying to make me fe
el better. Get a grip, Blossom.

  Blossom put her hand on Heather’s legs. “Why?”

  “Because I once had a dog like Jigsy. Not exactly like Jigsy. He was a golden retriever named Otis. Well, one day Otis didn’t feel good. He was getting older, and the doctor said it was better not to operate. He said it would be too hard on Otis. So Otis lived with us for another month, but then poor Otis couldn’t walk anymore, so my parents took him to the doctor. He didn’t come home that afternoon, and when I asked where he was, my dad told me Otis was happy. He had gone to heaven and he wasn’t in pain anymore. I know when I go to heaven, Otis will be waiting for me. So I’m not afraid. You know who told me Otis would be there?”

  “Who?” Blossom asked.

  “Jigsy and Pip told me.”

  “Well, they’re very smart dogs. If any two dogs know this, I know Jigsy and Pip would.”

  “Yeah, I think so, too.” Heather closed her eyes, clearly exhausted.

  “I think we should go now,” Dolly said.

  “All right.” Blossom rose, stroking the last feathery wisps of Heather’s hair.

  “Would you mind if I visited you again with Jigsy and Pip?”

  Heather smiled and whispered her approval. Blossom and Dolly walked out, the two dogs padding quietly behind.

  “So what do you think?” Dolly asked Blossom.

  “Daffodils are out of season.”

  “So?”

  “So I think I have to scour the county until I find daffodils to bring to Heather on Thursday.”

  As they were descending the stairs, Dr. Cohen was just going up.

  “Oh, Blossom, I want you to meet the smartest doctor in this whole hospital: Dr. Cohen, a heart man. Dr. Cohen, this is my friend Blossom McBeal.”

  “Very nice to meet you,” he said—friendly, accessible, not like so many other doctors Blossom had met. But the thing that surprised Blossom the most was Dr. Cohen’s age. He had to be in his mid-seventies yet was spry, youthful, and working.

  “So you up visiting the kids, Dolly?”

  “You betcha.”

  “Looks like Pip is putting on a little weight around the middle. You’re not sneaking him kippers and bagels again?”

  “Me? Never!”

  “Well, gotta go. Rounds.”

  “See you on Thursday, Dr. Cohen.”

  “Oh,” he said, looking down at Dolly’s feet, “nice shoes.”

  “Why, thank you, Dr. Cohen.”

  Dolly was blushing. “He was the chief cardiologist. Now that he’s older, he wanted to step down, work less. But he’s so brilliant, the hospital asked him to stay on. Can you imagine? Isn’t he nice?”

  Blossom looked at Dolly. “Very nice. Dolly, you’re blushing!”

  “I am not.”

  “You are, too. You’re red as a beet.”

  “A hot flash.”

  “Sure, and pigs fly.”

  CHAPTER 44

  BLOSSOM COULD NOT STOP THINKING about her experience at the hospital. The poignant memories replayed painfully on her heart and mind. She wanted to do something other then feel sorry for the children sleeping in their wards, waiting for salvation. Money didn’t seem right—she didn’t really have enough to make a difference anyway, and it wouldn’t have mattered to the kids. Jigsy and Pip were a tangible happiness, and that’s what she wanted to effect. Something that would make them smile.

  Money was like opening an envelope at Christmas from an uncle you’d barely even met. The real joy came in a box with bright paper you could tear open to find that doll, or train, or something special you just couldn’t live without, that had been picked out just for you. But what could she do for the children that would please them like that?

  A visitor. Someone who would come every week with a grab bag of toys and tricks. But not a clown. Clowns were creepy, macabre even, with their painted grins and overbearing antics. And certainly not a mime. Blossom believed mimes should be banned. They were the worst aberration of the human condition there could possibly be. When she saw them on the street, she wanted to tip them off their invisible tightropes. And then there were those stupid boxes they were always trying to get out of. Why? What the hell was with that? No, they were even creepier than clowns.

  Then it came to her. Something that would bring magic and music to the children: a wizard. But this would be no ordinary wizard, with a pointed hat and a cape full of stars. This wizard would not only pull rabbits from silk scarves and levitate nurses; this wizard would use a wand to put wonderful spells on everyone. This wizard would spread gold fairy dust over the antiseptic sheets and listen to all the wishes the children kept secret. This wizard would be Wednesday’s cure. This wizard would be... Blossom.

  And so Blossom went to work calling every costume company listed in the Los Angeles phone book. She found Costume Creators in Sherman Oaks and drove right over. By two o’clock she had found herself a wizard.

  She slipped into her new blue satin cape and a silver body suit. It was topped off with a pointed hat embroidered with constellations and stars, while a gold bell jangled at the top. She painted her face white and, following the “How to Look Like a Wizard” instruction booklet, added long gold, glittery wings that she painted from the corners of her brows. She applied both gold and silver to her lips to offset the sparkle in her eyes.

  She named herself Snow because she decided she would always leave snow globes behind for the children. It was something they could shake and make wishes on. She bought globes, each with a wizard inside, from a distributor on Melrose. Written on the snowy bottom was the word Luck in silver glitter, yet every time a child would shake it, it would form another word, like Hope or Joy or Bliss. How on earth did it do this? Anything was possible in this town, especially when it came to illusion.

  Blossom was anxious to get out and try her new wizardry on the kids. She entered the hospital looking no less than mythological. All the grown-ups oohed and aahed, and Dr. Cohen didn’t even recognize her.

  She entered the children’s ward, and all their little mouths opened in an ovation of ovals. They could hardly contain their excitement at the prospect that a wizard would pay them a visit.

  Heather was awake and cooling her thirst with some ice chips and apple juice when Blossom walked in.

  “How are you, my beautiful little angel?” the wizard asked.

  “You’re a wizard!” Heather exclaimed as if she were looking at Santa himself.

  “Are you enjoying your apple juice?”

  “Do you want some?” Heather asked, extending her paper cup. Her sweetness nearly broke Blossom’s heart, and threatened to liquefy her painted grin.

  “Oh, no,” Blossom explained, “I only drink from mountain streams and sometimes rain barrels.”

  “What do you eat?” Heather asked, mesmerized.

  “I only eat flowers and four-leaf clovers and sometimes new grass that comes in during the spring.”

  “Can you make magic?”

  “Yes, I can.”

  “Can you make me better?” Heather asked in a small, breakable voice.

  Blossom hadn’t been prepared for that. She didn’t know why; of course these children would want a wizard to perform the hardest miracle of all: life.

  “Perhaps I can do some things to make you feel better,” Blossom said, a knot tightening in her throat. Jesus, Blossom, wizards don’t cry. But the fact was, she could make Heather feel better. At least for a little while.

  She opened the inside of her satin cape, which was lined with what looked like hundreds of pockets. From the mysterious pockets she took out bottles of all shapes and sizes, each crowned with a gold top and an engraved inscription explaining what the potion did. But the bottles looked empty.

  “There’s nothing in them,” Heather observed without guile.

  “Oh, yes, there is,” Blossom insisted.

  “What?”

  She arranged the bottles neatly on the table.

  “There’s joy, happiness, harmony, ench
antment, bliss, pleasure, hope, vivacity, laughter, exuberance, cheer, playfulness, high spirits, dreams that come true, acceptance, exultations, spring, whimsy, relief, deliverance, comfort, well-being, faith, fearlessness, optimism, great expectations, courage, luck, and pluck. But I’m always working on more.”

  “How do they work?” Heather asked, utterly fascinated by the array of vials lined up on her table. They looked like ancient perfume bottles washed down from the Nile or the River Jordan. They looked as if they’d only been used by Egyptian goddesses.

  “Well, you choose one that you hope will come true or help you in some way or help someone else. Each one has its own aroma: vanilla, raspberry, lemon, cherry, apple, peppermint, butterscotch, fresh grass, roses, cacao, huckleberry, tangerine, juniper, lilac, pine, honeysuckle, lavender, seaweed, and garlic.”

  “Garlic?”

  “Oh, yes. That could be my favorite. The smell of garlic has an all-encompassing sense of well-being. In fact, that’s what you smell when you open comfort.”

  “Can I try one?” Heather pleaded.

  “But of course. What’s your pleasure?”

  She studied the bottles on the table. They all had something wonderful to offer, but she picked one that had caught her fancy as the wizard was reading them off. She picked up the bottle that read Dreams that come true.

  “Now what do I do?”

  “Simply open the top and breathe it all in, like you would pine or warm cookies on a snowy day. There are some potions where you can even smell blue skies or bubbling brooks or daisy chains worn by the invisible forest fairies. Things you never thought could have a perfume to them, do. Have you ever smelled a white fluffy cloud?”

  “No.”

  “Now, clouds smell like pink cotton candy. How about the moon?”

  “Never.”

  “Ahhh, the moon, that smells like peppermint. And joy smells like lavender and happiness like ginger snaps and rainbows like M and Ms. So are you ready to open your bottle?”

  Heather carefully uncorked the top of her bottle and leaned forward. Although the bottle had appeared empty, a foggy plume escaped the flask, forming a curl of cold air. It had the distinct smell of roses caught in their first frost. Both sweet and cool.