Time Out of Mind

by Ruth Hay

  Caroline was already very satisfied with the way things were going. A credit with accompanying time out of school in the spring months, and a reward to look forward to, plus the goodwill of her parents. This was what they called a win/win situation.

  She picked up her school backpack and her swimming bag and followed her father out to the parking lot, thinking about which jeans she would choose, and how to persuade her mother that the American running shoes were an absolutely essential additional item.

  Chapter Three

  “Mary, do you remember the young girl who came a couple of days ago to visit Mrs. Purdy in 20C? She didn’t stay long but I saw her bring Mrs. P. to the dining room.”

  “Yes, of course I do. We don’t often see teenagers in this place.”

  “What did you think of her?” Mary looked up from the medications list she was checking and gave her supervisor her full attention. Her request was unusual.

  “I never had a conversation with her, but she seemed all right. Has something happened?”

  “No, but something unusual is about to happen. The girl’s name is Caroline Fenton and I had a call from her headmaster at the Community College in Uckfield. It seems Miss Fenton wants to do some volunteer work here and she will be writing a report for some credit course at school.”

  “Well now, how do we deal with that?”

  Mary was considering the possible benefits and problems related to this request. They could certainly use another pair of hands around the place. They were almost at full capacity and there were never enough staff to do everything that was needed.

  “The college needs our permission, of course, and the girl has asked if she can work with her great-grandmother exclusively, but I am concerned about insurance and safety issues.”

  Mary nodded as she contemplated the number of things that could go wrong. The young girl was unlikely to have the strength to lift a resident up, or know how to toilet an elderly person and falls were to be avoided at all costs.

  “I think we are covered, legally, as long as she is taking care of a family member, but we will have to supply some general safety training. She can come around with me for a day to see how the facility runs, if you think that would satisfy the insurers?”

  “I will enquire about that. Honestly, I don’t want to discourage the girl. You know very well, Mary, how hard it is to get care workers these days. If this project works out, we could establish a link with the Community College and have trainee students here who might decide to take up practical nursing in the future.”

  Mary nodded. She could only admire the kind of forward thinking that distinguished her manager, Eva Singh, from the rest of the staff. Most of the care workers focused solely on the day and couldn’t wait to get home to their ‘real’ lives with friends and family.

  When Eva had arrived to take over from the previous manager, there had been the usual rumblings among the staff about ‘foreigners taking our jobs’. It soon became clear that Eva’s large Indian family had been in England for generations and her skills with people, tradesmen and local government were more than effective. She worked long hours, insisted on efficient use of budgets, and appreciated every effort made by the staff.

  This latest idea, seemed to demonstrate to Mary the value of having well-qualified management personnel from different backgrounds at the helm of the ship.

  Having set the plan in motion, Eva Singh, turned back toward her office, stopping on the way to exchange a word or two with a junior staff member who had been absent with a cold for a few days.

  Mary smiled at this evidence of another of Eva’s improvements. Staff who were sick, were sent home until they had recovered, and paid a tiny sum while they were at home, rather than lose wages altogether. This one innovation had reduced sickness among the vulnerable elderly residents by twenty percent, and Mary had to agree with Eva that it would save money in the long run.

  “It all depends on the type of young woman this Caroline Fenton is,” declared Mary, as she closed and locked the medications cabinet. “This idea could be a waste of my time if the girl is a typical, self-obsessed teenager.”

  “Did you say something, Mary?” Patrick had arrived for today’s room inspection with Jonas in tow. “No, I wasn’t talking about you two,” laughed Mary. “Let’s get started on this list. The sooner we start; the sooner we finish”. The lads joined in and chorused the last words but they followed Mary promptly as she walked briskly down the corridor to B wing.

  * * *

  Caroline lost no time putting her plan into action. She made a list of tasks to be completed and by the end of the week, she had the form to be signed, an outline of her project and a calendar of dates. This last item proved to be the most complex as she had swimming practice, study sessions for exams, papers due for her courses and the usual friend and family occasions to include; Janine had a birthday coming up, the spring BBQ for the Fenton clan was a command performance and there were the usual chores to do at home.

  Caroline prioritized the calendar list and realized there would be little, or no, spare time for her in the next three months if she was to get everything done.

  "Difficult, but not impossible," was her final assessment as she applied a highlight pen to the calendar. "I can do this if I maintain my focus."

  The written proposal for college and the interview with the nursing home manager, Eva Singh, were first on the list. Caroline knew she would need to do some research in order to present a worthwhile project and that this research would enable her to sound more knowledgeable to the manager. She felt it was essential to get the nursing home staff on her side. What she really wanted to achieve was some kind of improvement in the care of elderly people and she needed to know what was possible in that area.

  The college library supplied microfiche copies of local and national newspapers and Caroline soon found her concerns mirrored in a large number of articles about the aging population in Britain. It seemed that many factors combined to create a situation in which families were forced to make difficult decisions about their personal and financial resources.

  Caroline thought back to her conversation with her mother and blushed at the naïve statements she had made then. The whole topic of senior care was much more complicated than she had realized and medical science seemed to have contributed to the problems by creating situations in which elderly people can now live for decades with chronic ailments that prevented them from living independently.

  Caroline put down her pen and rocked back in the chair. What had she got herself into?

  How was she going to devise a project that could help her great-grandmother specifically, and address society's problems on a more general level? Had she bitten off more than she could chew?

  For a moment, she despaired. There must be much better brains than hers working on this issue. What could a teenager contribute to such a complex set of problems?

  Switching off the microfiche reader, Caroline swivelled in her chair and looked outward to the busy resource centre.

  Her mind was still preoccupied with the articles she had been reading, but after a minute or two it struck her that everyone in the community college library was under the age of twenty. She realized that all of her generation would be forced to deal with the problems of aging parents at some time in the future. The thought of her parents becoming helpless and infirm was horrifying and did not bear thinking about. Caroline shrugged off the image of her mother in that room in the nursing home where Gigi languished alone, and reasserted her natural optimism.

  "I can't fix everything that's wrong, but surely I can do something, no matter how small, to improve things for my family."

  With this declaration, Caroline returned to the main desk and accessed CD resources on nursing home accommodations, which she borrowed for later viewing at home. Her years of studying at school had defined her learning style as global. She knew she would have to understand the whole topic of seniors and aging before she could zero in on a reasona
ble project.

  Not the fastest way to reach the end point, she thought with a sigh, but one that had proved productive in the past.

  Facing a long night of study, Caroline hitched up her heavy backpack and headed for her locker to retrieve her swimming gear. There was nothing like a few fast lengths of the pool to clear her head for work. The day's school-age groups should be gone by now, leaving her plenty of room to beat a path up and down the pool.

  * * *

  Sarah Fenton knocked on the door of her daughter's room just after ten o'clock.

  "Caro, honey, can you open the door? I have your hot chocolate here."

  When Caroline threw open the door, Sarah could tell from her daughter's face, that it had been a long and tiring evening. Caro's expression had that glazed look of deep contemplative thought that came from hours of immersion in a difficult topic. Sarah felt a flash of regret that her daughter's good mind and excellent work habits could cause so much stress at times.

  She acknowledged the present struggles would pay off in the future for Caro, but she also knew that her daughter's studies were already far beyond Sarah's ability to provide help.

  As she walked into the room balancing two mugs of hot chocolate on a tray, Sarah could see the evidence of Caro's efforts in the scatter of papers on the desk and the stack of CDs by the computer. She settled on the bed prepared to do the only thing she could to help her daughter.

  "How is it going? You've been up here since supper time. I recorded '24' for you. Can you stop now and get some sleep, sweetheart?"

  The questions brought Caroline's focus back to the present and Sarah was relieved to see her smile as she grasped the hot mug and lay back against the pillows beside her mother.

  "Thanks, Mum. I'll be glad to stop now. I am getting to grips with the subject but I had no idea there were so many levels of society involved in the aging of the population. Did you know that most of the elderly are depressed and overmedicated and this leads directly to the number of serious falls because they feel dizzy and light-headed?"

  Sarah hugged her daughter gently and replied more humorously than she actually felt.

  "I am sure you are right about that, Caro. And I am sure most young folks your age have neither the interest, nor the inclination, to care about the fact. You really are something special my dear."

  Caroline yawned hugely in reply. "Well, I don't know how special I am at the moment. I don't seem to be making any headway with this project. I'd better get some sleep and perhaps I'll have an idea in the morning."

  "Good thinking, Caro! Don't they say the unconscious mind works on problems while you sleep? Finish your drink and let sleep come. I'll make you eggs benedict in the morning, if you like."

  "Mmm, sounds lovely! Thanks……………"

  Sarah tiptoed around the room turning off lights and the computer and rescuing the mug from her daughter's hand before it spilled on the duvet. She heard deep breathing as she gently closed the door behind her.

  David was just waking from his post-TV-news nap when Sarah arrived in the lounge.

  "What's up?" he murmured. "You were upstairs for a long time. Is Caro all right?"

  "I think so. Your daughter is bound and determined to set the world to rights, but she may have overestimated her abilities this time."

  "You sound worried," said David, sitting upright in his chair and rubbing his eyes. "What did Caro say?"

  "It's not what she said so much as the responsibilities she seems to take on her young shoulders. This project for my grandmother's nursing home is a huge burden for her on top of everything else she has to do this term. Do you think we should put a stop to it?"

  “Come on, Sarah! When have we ever been able to stop Caroline when she set her mind to something? She's a smart girl and knows what she can manage. Don't worry. She'll work it out in her usual competent way."

  "I hope you're right, Dave. She's scheduled to visit the nursing home again tomorrow. Maybe she'll decide to call it all off, now that she knows more about what's involved?"

  "I seriously doubt it! In any case, your worrying won't help. Give it a few days and we'll see what develops."

  Chapter Four

  Caroline took a last breath of fresh air and leaned against the door for a moment. It had been a long week and this visit was Friday's final task.

  The staff person she had seen before, called Mary, opened the door and welcomed Caroline, with the request for her to stop by the office before she left for the night.

  "Our manager, Ms. Singh, would like to speak to you about your project for a few minutes, if that's convenient."

  "Well, yes, I suppose I can do that," replied Caroline. She hesitated for a moment as she had not yet finalized her project ideas and did not want to appear unprepared.

  "Excellent! I'll tell Eva to expect you around six. Can you find your way to Mrs. Purdy's room?"

  "Yes, thank you, Mary. Oh, how has my great-grandmother been since my last visit?"

  Mary's expression did not change although her news was not very hopeful. Caroline had noticed that the predominant attitude among the staff was one of cheerful optimism no matter what the situation.

  "Well, she's much the same. Her appetite is not good and she is not talking much, if at all, but I'm sure your visit will cheer her up again!" With this comment, Mary turned toward the office, no doubt intent on reporting to her manager that Caroline would be available later for an interview.

  Caroline was still preoccupied when she arrived at her great-grandmother's room. Her head was buzzing with facts and figures from the research she had been doing and now this latest challenge was looming before she was quite ready to state her objectives.

  Pushing open the door, she saw the old woman hunched in the chair by the window gazing out at the dusky evening. No one had been in the room to put on the lights. The tray with tea and biscuits was sitting untouched by the chair. The entire scene was depressing for Caroline and she could only guess at the effect on her great-grandmother.

  Suddenly, the mass of information she had absorbed in the last week coalesced into one clear principle.

  Right here, in this room, was her focus. If she could improve life for this one old person in some significant way, that is all she could do. The larger problems of society were not within her influence.

  She was one very small cog in an enormously complex machine.

  This realization brought Caroline relief and renewed energy. The way forward was clear although the specific methods would have to be worked out. For now, she would concentrate on Gigi and try to discover what would help her most.

  * * *

  It's at this time in the evening that I think back to the past. There were good and bad times but I dread the memories fading away like the dying of the day's light.

  We four were so young and vibrant in those days. The world around us with its wartime restrictions and worries was almost obscured by our immediate concerns about when and where we could be together. Let the adults fret about rationing and the fight against Hitler's forces, we were carefree and full of energy. It was to our advantage when our parents were distracted by events as their attention was diverted from our activities. They huddled around the radio, nervously smoking, while we conspired to find places where we could be alone and unobserved.

  Marion's obsession with Gus' charms grew each time they met. Walks in the park usually ended in a thicket of trees where necking sessions were conducted on top of Gus' overcoat while Kyle and I kept guard nearby.

  With nothing else to do while we waited for the lovers to emerge, Kyle and I began to talk about ourselves. I slowly discovered that Kyle was a decent young man who did not entirely approve of his friend's careless conduct. I got the impression that Kyle's family were churchgoers and he felt torn between their strict moral values and his own loyalty to Gus.

  Kyle's parents had high expectations for him. He was only too well aware of the financial sacrifices they had made to allow him to go to college an
d train for a profession, when he could have been contributing to the family's income instead.

  Kyle also had a part-time job but, unlike the rest of us, he worked several evenings during the week at his uncle's butcher's shop where he cleaned floors and washed implements and plucked chickens on occasion.

  I got the sense that this chilly and distasteful work was one of the reasons that Kyle was so determined to succeed in college. On one particularly cold night on the park bench, Kyle confessed that he hated the way his hands suffered from the scrubbing and mopping he had to do at night. He reluctantly showed me the rough, red skin he usually concealed in a pair of leather gloves. It was the first time I had felt any genuine feelings for him, although he would have hated my pity.

  Later I grew to respect his work ethic. Of all of us, Kyle worked the hardest and longest, both in and out of school.

  None of this changed how I felt about Gus. I concealed my emotions as much as possible from Marion. Gus was too fixated on Marion to notice me at all, but Kyle always recognized my true intentions and never came closer, either physically or emotionally, than the dance floor required.

  Films were our escape from reality in those days. In the dark of the rear rows, Gus and Marion could smooch in comfort while Kyle and I tried to ignore the sounds we heard from them, and focus on the screen where a colourful, America portrayal of life was displayed. A lifestyle we could only wonder at.

  It was after one of these weekend dates that everything changed for me when Marion made her confession.

  * * *

  "How are you today, Gigi? It's Caroline again. I'm your great-grandaughter, Sarah's girl, remember me? No, not Marion. There's no one named Marion in the family, as far as I know. I am Caroline. Is Marion one of the staff perhaps?"