A Different Kind of Blues

by Gwynne Forster

  “The first time I saw you, you reminded me of Denzel, and…Oh, well, it was really a compliment. Where’s Connor?”

  “Oh, I’m not complaining about that. I just have to know that your brain is functioning properly. Connor probably hasn’t come on duty yet. Who is Winston?”

  “Someone I fell in love with a few weeks ago back in San Francisco. Head over heels. Reckless. I did a lot of dumb things during those months when I thought I could die any minute. I leaned over the rail at the South Rim of the Grand Canyon, even though I’m petrified of heights.”

  Hayes sat in the chair beside her bed. “Really?”

  “I really did. I also took a swimming lesson, and I swam in the Pacific Ocean. Would you believe I’m scared to death of the water? I set out to do all the things I’d wanted to do and either hadn’t had a chance or was too scared to attempt. I rode my first horse, first Ferris wheel, and first roller coaster, and I wasn’t even scared. How do you account for that?”

  “It isn’t difficult, Petra. To your mind, you had everything to gain and nothing to lose. I suspect you also wanted to cut down on the waiting time. Fortunately, you weren’t successful.” She tried to sit up, so he raised the mattress enough to give her relief from lying flat.

  “You won’t believe the mess I made,” she said, “not only of my life, but of other people’s. Until that doctor told me I had less than six months to live, I had been as circumspect as the bishop. The epitome of conservatism. To tell you how foolish I got, Dr. Hayes, I actually picked up a hitchhiker, a man, while I was driving along the highway out of San Francisco. Luckily, he was a law-abiding graduate student.”

  “What about your family, Ms. Fields? Did you have Connor call and tell them that you were having an operation, and that I expected you to come through it as good as new?”

  She couldn’t force herself to look at him. “No, sir. They don’t know about my prognosis.”

  “What? Were you off your rocker? Suppose you had expired some place all alone!”

  “If I’d told them, they wouldn’t have let me take this vacation. It wasn’t a vacation, actually. I bought a ticket to Rapid City, South Dakota, and, from there, I went where my mind took me. I’d do it again if I had the money, but I wouldn’t take those awful chances.”

  He stood and moved toward the door. “I’m satisfied that your brain is functioning perfectly. You’ll be just fine. I’ll tell the nurse to bring you some breakfast.”

  Well, what do you know? He was examining me, and I thought he was sitting there because he cared. She shrugged, having taught herself in the past few months not to care about little things, and pulled the sheet up to her neck to ward off the chill from the air conditioner. At least he knew what he was doing when he was digging around in my brain. Lord, if I had believed that I would be all right, I’d have been scared crazy about that man cutting my head open.

  “How’s my favorite patient today?”

  She looked around to see a nurse’s aid bringing a tray. “Boy, am I glad to see you. I feel as if I’ve never eaten in my whole life.”

  “Trust me, this won’t stuff you, but you can have some more in about two hours. You can’t have any heavy food right now.”

  Petra eyed the tray. The Jell-O, soup, and yogurt looked like steak and lobster to her. “If it fills me up, I don’t care what it is.”

  Two weeks and four days later, Petra opened the front door of her house with her key, walked in, and dropped her bag by the door. She had her life back, but would she ever be the same? “Anybody home?”

  Chapter Nine

  Petra walked through the front door of her house and began reacquainting herself with each room. She hadn’t previously noticed the frayed carpet in the dining room or the loose brick in the living room fireplace, nor had she recently appreciated the view from her dining room window. She stood by the wall-to-wall window gazing at the blooming crepe myrtle tree, the green pears that strained the limbs of their host, the roses beneath them, and the green grass that seemed to cradle the flowers and trees.

  I’ve always taken this for granted the way I did my family and my friends, as if I were entitled to their love and to the beauty of nature. I realize now that I’m not entitled to anything. And I had no business going off as I did without saying why or where.

  She opened her suitcase, removed the soiled clothing, and took the remaining things upstairs to her room. Tired from the trip, she had to resist lying down and going to sleep. She dialed Lurlene’s number at work.

  “Jim’s Electronics meeting your every need. Lurlene Bruce speaking.”

  “Hi, Lurlene. This is Petra.”

  “Petra? Girl, where you been? You got some talking to do. Your mama said Jack fired you. I meet him on Long Street the other day, and he practically assaults me. Like I knew where you were. My friend Josie said you were probably off somewhere having an abortion, but I told her she was crazy. She was, wasn’t she?”

  “Girl, don’t joke like that. It had been years since I was even near a man. You see a brother around here that you’d let impregnate you? Well, neither do I, and it’s not even funny. How’s Twylah?”

  “Still overweight. She lost three pounds, and she was so happy I thought she was going to have it announced on the radio. It’s not a joke. The doctor told her last week that if she didn’t lose eighty pounds, she was going to be a sick woman. The next day, we went shopping, and she bought a case of beer and a bag of Oh Henry! bars. You going to be home tonight?”

  I’m not going to do what other people want me to do. Life is too precious to spend it that way, and I’m not going to lie. “I’ll be home, Lurlene, but I’m tired, and Mama and Krista will want me to tell them what I’ve done and where I’ve been, so let’s get together another night.”

  “Uh…Well, all right. I’ll ask Twylah if she’d like for us to play pinochle one night. Girl, I bet you got a whole lot to tell, and I can’t wait to hear it. See you soon.”

  She did have a lot that she could tell, but they’d never know all of it; she couldn’t bear their jokes and questions about Winston Fleet. She heard the front door open, got up and started downstairs, slowly as the doctor warned her to do.

  “Lord have mercy if it ain’t my child,” Lena Fields screamed and raced up the stairs at a pace that belied her age. She stopped short before she reached Petra. “What happened to you, child? You been in an accident? That’s what you get for running all over the country. How’d it happen?”

  Petra turned and walked back up the stairs. What had she expected? Her mother’s delight in seeing her had been short-lived, and she immediately became the preacher and accuser. Petra walked into her room and sat down on the edge of the bed.

  “I’ll tell you all about it, Mama, but I’ll wait till Krista gets home so I won’t have to tell it twice.”

  “All right, but as soon as she gets here, I’m going home. I need to see about my place.”

  “Mama, I thank you for staying here with Krista. I know she can be wayward and troublesome, and I hope she didn’t give you any problems. She’s a good girl, but she’s strong-minded, and she was so mad at me about Goodman. I never should have told her that lie, that he was dead, I mean.”

  “You shouldn’t ever lie about anything, ’cause it sure will catch up with you. Besides, if you’re gon’ lie, you have to have a perfect memory, and that alone ought to make you tell the truth. Is your head going to be all right? Just tell me that much.”

  “It’s going to be as good as new.”

  Lena sat down and patted her thighs. “Well, I may as well tell you that you ain’t got no job. Jack Watkins called here two or three days ago and screamed at me like he was paying me, telling me he’d fired you. Made me mad as the devil. I put my hips up on my shoulder and told him you wasn’t likely to starve.”

  Petra released a long breath, thinking she’d give anything to stop listening and just lie down in a quiet place. “He was real nice, Mama, if he waited till three days ago to fire me. I f
igured he’d do that. Too bad. I worked hard for that job, and I loved the work.”

  Lena’s eyes narrowed, and Petra could see a sermon coming. “Then why in Heaven’s name did you go off like that?”

  “Mama, I told you that I’ll explain it when Krista gets home. Right now, I want to rest. I’m exhausted.”

  “Mom! Mom, wake up. I didn’t know you were coming home today, or I would have come straight home from work. I went to my singing group this evening.”

  Petra sat up, rubbing her eyes and yawning. “How are you, honey? Sit down here and let me look at you.”

  “What’s the matter with your head? Grandma said you got into something, but she didn’t know what. Is it going to be all right?”

  “It’s going to be fine. Is there anything to eat?”

  “I made chili last night, and Grandma just cooked rice. You feel like going downstairs?”

  Petra rolled to the side of the bed, sat up, slipped her feet into her house slippers, and stood, hoping that she wouldn’t be groggy. “I could eat a gallon of chili. All they serve you on the plane is some kind of liquid, and I hardly ate any breakfast.” She took a few seconds to steady herself.

  “What happened to you, Mom? You’re not quite straight.” Trust Krista to cut to the chase.

  “I’m OK, and I’ll explain it in a minute.”

  She ate the dinner that Krista and Lena prepared and, though she hadn’t asked the surgeon whether she could have coffee, she took a cupful to sip while she talked with them. They sat together facing her, as if prepared to measure her every word. She began with the day her physician, Reginald Barnes, told her that she had an inoperable brain tumor and from four to six months to live.

  They gasped in shock, but she raised both hands, palms out. “I’ve hardly begun. Relax. You see I’m still here.” An hour later, she finished her story, including her attitudes and the changes in them, omitting only her affair with Winston Fleet. She didn’t intend to give her mother an opportunity to trash that and make it seem common and ugly.

  “You mean if you hadn’t gone to the King Historic Site, you’d have passed out somewhere else, and you might have gotten a doctor as stupid as Dr. Barnes?” Krista asked.

  “Let’s just say I was blessed, and I’m asking you not to breathe this to anybody. Barnes could sue you. All he knew was what the radiologist told him. I’m just thankful I’m going to be all right.”

  “Whew!” Krista said. “As I get it, you were going off to die someplace all by yourself and not tell us.”

  Petra’s back stiffened. “You tell me that if you got some news like that, your first and only thought would be of your grandmother and me, and I’ll tell you you’re lying. You’ll think of yourself and why such a thing should happen to you. It isn’t a time when you become saintly. I went to see Reverend Collins, and he dropped a guilt trip on me. I wish I hadn’t listened to him.”

  “Well, I don’t,” Krista said. “If he hadn’t I would still think my dad was dead.”

  “I’m just gon’ give thanks,” Lena said. “We’ve all been given another chance to love each other. Let’s use it. I’m going home and see if my apartment is still there. Krista, honey, do you feel like cleaning the kitchen?”

  “Yes, ma’am. I’ll do it.”

  Petra didn’t fool herself; the more her mother thought about Petra’s illness and her “vacation,” the sharper the tongue-lashing she would eventually perfect. She telephoned her friend, Twylah.

  “I sure am glad you’re back here in one piece, girl. Lurlene call me at work, and she’s got all kinds of speculations about what you were doing and where you went. If you weren’t in jail, I’m satisfied.”

  Petra couldn’t help laughing. “I wasn’t in jail, at least not the kind you’re thinking about.”

  “Hey now, you can’t say a thing like that and not explain.”

  “In due course, friend. When are we meeting?”

  “Sunday over at Lurlene’s place. That OK with you?”

  “Yes. See you then.”

  She looked through her sewing materials, found a piece of white piqué large enough for a turban, and put it aside with the intent of making the turban the next morning. Friends would wonder about her new style headdress, but they would speculate more about the bandage on her head and the patch of missing hair.

  Goodman Prout answered his cell phone with not a little annoyance. He detested calls when teaching. “Prout speaking. I’ll return your call as soon as I’m free.”

  “Sorry, Dad, but I have to tell you something.”

  Every nerve in his body seemed suddenly on edge. Krista had telephoned him only once, and that was for the purpose of introducing herself and telling him that she wanted to meet him.

  “Excuse me for a minute, Alonzo,” he said to his piano student. “I’ll only be a minute.”

  “What is it, Krista?”

  “When I got home from work, Mom was there and—”

  He interrupted her. “And what? Anything wrong?”

  “I…Mom’s head is bandaged. She said she had an operation for a brain tumor. She said Doctor Barnes misdiagnosed it, said it was malignant and inoperable and gave her six months at the most to live. That’s why she took off like that.” She told him the remainder of the story. “Mom made me promise not to mention it. Do you think a person can live after that kind of operation?”

  He leaned against the wall feeling like a balloon into which someone had just rammed a nail. So that was it. “Was it malignant?”

  “No. The doctor said it was benign.”

  “Is she walking?”

  “Yes, sir. And tonight she ate enough chili for two people.”

  “Then don’t worry. She’ll be fine. I’m glad you called me. If you need me for anything, I’ll be here.”

  “Thanks, Dad. Bye.”

  He went back to his student, but almost at once, the door opened and in walked Jada. He imagined the pleasure of strangling her. “Haven’t I told you not to bother me when I’m teaching? This student has to concentrate. Please leave.”

  “Well ’scuse me. Next time you itch, find somebody else to scratch you.”

  “Excuse me, Alonzo. I’m sorry for these interruptions. I’ll give you an extra half hour.”

  “You’d better hurry, sir. She’s mad as a bull in a swarm of bees.”

  He caught up with her in front of the building. “Look, Jada, I’m sorry if I was rude, but I don’t allow anybody to come into my studio when I’m teaching, and that includes the members of my family.”

  “What are you going to do to make it up to me?”

  He nearly bit his tongue, but he calmed himself, because he suspected that she could be reckless. “I was just about to ask you how you were going to make it up to me. I’m the one who’s been wronged. By now, my student is steaming. He’s paying by the hour.”

  “You want to come by tonight?”

  “I’d love to, but I have an engagement tonight.” He patted his back trouser pocket. “Damn, I forgot I had to get my vest out of the cleaners. I need ten dollars. I have to wear that vest tonight.”

  As he’d known she would, she opened her purse and handed him two five-dollar bills. “I’d love to see you in one of those fancy suits. Maybe we can go away for a weekend someplace, and we can get dolled up.”

  “I can’t kiss you on the street,” he said, ignoring her suggestion. “I owe you one.”

  “Sure you do. And, baby, I plan to collect big time.”

  He went back to his studio deep in thought, almost certain that with Jada, he’d made the biggest mistake of his life.

  Petra got out of bed early the next morning, feeling almost like her old self, and went down to the kitchen to prepare breakfast. “I thought I’d fix breakfast,” she said to Krista.

  “You don’t need to. I had juice, toast, and coffee.”

  “Any coffee left?”

  “Uh, maybe half a cup. I have to go. Bye.”

  Petra grabbed Krista’s ar
m. “What is this? Are you still feuding with me?”

  Krista jerked her arm out of her mother’s grasp. “Who’s feuding? I have to get to work.”

  So nothing had changed. She cared enough to be concerned when she didn’t hear from me, but that was all. Oh. Well. I’ve got to look for a job. But first, she had to call Jack, apologize, and give him a chance to vent.

  And vent, he did. “Yeah, I fired you. The best worker I ever had. You knew more about the business than I did, and you went off and left me in a rut. I called you every name in the book. What happened to your cell phone? Did you lose it?”

  “I didn’t take it with me, Jack. I thought I was terribly ill, but it was a misdiagnosis. Will you give me a reference? I need a job.”

  He waited so long that perspiration dampened her blouse. “What the hell! Yeah. I’ll put it in the mail today.”

  Petra didn’t want to go to an employment agency, so she decided to buy a copy of The Woodmore Times and check the want ads. As she entered the drugstore, she bumped into the Reverend Collins.

  “Haven’t seen much of you lately, my child, and you haven’t been to church. You can’t afford these lapses. Have you straightened things out with all the people you’ve wronged?”

  The idea of walking away without saying a word appealed to her, but she considered his great age and didn’t do it. “I’m fine, Reverend, but I’m not sure I did a lot of good by unloading my guilt on other people.”

  “Now, now, sister! You feel that way now, but they’ll one day thank you.”

  “If you say so. My daughter is still feuding with me because I corrected a lie I told her. It was the right thing to do, but she’s feeling a lot of pain.”

  The reverend patted her shoulder, and his old eyes darkened. “It never hurts to do the right thing, sister. You come to church, now.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  For the next hour, she sat on her back porch checking the ads in the paper, but didn’t see a single prospect. “My life was fine till that two-bit doctor misled me. How on earth could he make a mistake that big?” she said aloud. Josh Martin had benefited from her misdeed, and he gladly forgave her transgression. But he was the only one.