Ellie's Crows

by MaryAnn Myers

  “Why? What’s he saying?”

  “It’s not so much what he’s saying, as what he’s doing.”

  “Which is…?”

  Abby hesitated. The little girl with leg braces was walking painfully toward them. “He’s building a bird cage. A really large one from what I understand.”

  Ellie bowed her head and stared at the ground. She could see Lolita confined, frantic and beating her wings against the bars. When she raised her eyes, the little girl was standing directly in front of them.

  “Hello,” Abby said. “This is Ellie, and I’m Abby. What’s your name?”

  “Andrea,” the little girl said, balancing herself. “Poor little Andrea.”

  “Oh!” Abby smiled. “Well in that case, I’m acne Abby and this is uh…weird Ellie.”

  Ellie laughed. For Abby’s sake. For the little girl’s sake. For her own sake. The little girl giggled, handed them a pamphlet, and went on with her arduous task of passing them out.

  Ellie watched her. “That’s so sad. I wonder what’s wrong with her legs.”

  “Polio,” Abby said. “Her mom doesn’t believe in modern medicine.”

  Ellie looked at Abby.

  “I heard it from someone earlier who knows her really well. The mom I mean.”

  Ellie stared at the little girl. “I wonder how the mother justifies this.”

  Abby shook her head. “I don’t know. But look at her. She looks wise beyond her years. Do you think she’s an old soul?”

  Ellie shrugged. “Could be.”

  “I wish I was an old soul.”

  “Why? What would you be doing different?”

  Abby smiled. “Well for one, I probably wouldn’t be dragging you to all these retreats.”

  “You mean I’d have to go alone.”

  Abby shook her head and grew very serious. “Come on, Ellie. I know you only come because of me. And I want you to know I appreciate it. I couldn’t come alone. I just….” Abby bit at her bottom lip, her chin beginning to quiver, and glanced away.

  “What? What’s the matter?”

  “Nothing,” Abby said. “I just want you to know I appreciate it.”

  “All right, so I know.” Ellie said. “Sheesh, it’s nothing to cry about. Come on.” She nudged Abby playfully and Abby wiped her eyes and laughed.

  “What am I searching for? What am I hoping to find?”

  Ellie shrugged. “I don’t know. But at the moment, we’re in for silence and solitude.”

  “What?”

  Ellie motioned to the almost visible wave of quiet making its way toward them, a hush but for the crackle and whirl of the fire. Abby glanced at her watch. It was time.

  * * *

  Grandma Betty had one final regret. The one she always had; dying in a nursing home. She could see herself now, just like in the stories she’d read or seen on TV. There she’d be, hovering around the ceiling and looking down at her lifeless body just laying there, all pasty and thin, a damned diaper on…probably soiled to beat the band, her mouth hung open. She shivered. No, not her. She was going to die with her mouth closed and that’s all there was to it. And since she’d quit eating, how bad could her diaper be?

  She sighed. It won’t be long now, she thought, and really wished she could remember dying previously so she’d know what to expect. She hoped it didn’t hurt too much. She hated pain. Not that she ever thought of herself as particularly weak or fragile. She never used to be at least. But lately, the last couple of months, pain, even the slightest pain, was practically unbearable. Why didn’t the nurses understand? “When I tell them I’m in pain, I’m in pain. I hurt all over sometimes. Last night it was my head, and tonight it’s my legs. But we just gave you something, Betty, they’ll say. You’ve had enough. Enough of what I should ask, pain?”

  She glanced at the curtain between the beds, and wondered who was on the other side. For a long time it was Margaret, then that woman April. “Thirty days hath September, April, June and November. All the rest have thirty-one, except….”

  “Betty?”

  “Yes?” She looked around, in a different room, a different hour.

  “Do you know your ABC’s?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you want to recite them?”

  “No. And I don’t want to play with these goddamned blocks either! I’m not a child! Why are you treating me like a child? I hate it here! I hate it!”

  “I’m sorry, Betty. But you must keep your mind active.”

  “What? By saying the ABC’s? That’s active? That’s nothing! I’m not doing it! April? April, are you asleep?” Of course she is, Betty thought. She always is. That woman could sleep 24 hours a day, and talk about stink….

  “We’re going to have to call your son.”

  “My son? Why?”

  “Because you’re not cooperating. You’ve been assigned occupational and physical therapy, and you’re not even trying, Betty.”

  “Go ahead and call him. No, don’t! I’ll try. Give me the blocks.”

  “Fine, Betty. But if you throw them again….”

  “I won’t,” she promised, and sent them flying.

  “A, b, c, d, e, f, g….” She sang at the top of her lungs.

  * * *

  At first, silence and solitude was nice. Space, allow yourself space, they were instructed. Ellie liked space. Abby did not. She kept looking at Ellie and making funny faces.

  “Find the voice within yourself. Calm the voice within yourself.”

  Abby sighed. The voice inside her wouldn’t shut up. It was screaming bloody murder. “How far can you see?” she whispered to Ellie.

  “What?”

  “How far can you see?”

  Ellie shrugged, hoping to appease her. But Abby persisted, pointing straight ahead, past the fire, past the circle of women, past the Teepee. “How far?”

  “To the oak tree,” Ellie whispered.

  Abby stared. She didn’t see an oak tree. She didn’t see any trees. “How far is that?”

  “I don’t know,” Ellie whispered. They were on a slight knoll. “A mile, maybe two. Why?”

  “Because I just realized something. I don’t see well in the dark.”

  “So….”

  “Shhhhhh….”

  “So, I think I just had a vision.”

  Ellie stared, waited for her to crack a smile, laugh, giggle, something. Nothing. “What kind of vision?”

  “I don’t know. Flashes of lights and things.”

  “It’s the fire.”

  “Shhhhhhh!!!!!”

  “No, it’s not. Honest.” She edged closer to Ellie and crossed the invisible line of space. “I think we should leave.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I’m scared.”

  “Of what?”

  “I don’t know. Let’s go.”

  They left.

  ~ 10 ~

  There was a message from the administrator waiting for Ellie when she arrived at the nursing home. “An urgent matter,” it read. “Come see me right away.” Ellie looked in on Grandma Betty first; she was sleeping, and headed for the office. A nurse, in passing, scowled at her.

  She knocked on the administrator’s door and was told to come in. “Have a seat, please.”

  Ellie sat down warily. Even though the woman had smiled when offering her a seat, there was something in her eyes.

  “Are you aware that your grandmother is attempting to starve herself to death?”

  “Yes.”

  “I see.” The woman sat back, nodding. “We were afraid that was the case.”

  Ellie just looked at her.

  “It is against Mission Grove’s policy to allow death by malnutrition, which I’m sure you are aware of, and even though at this stage of life, it can be an extreme burden to a resident’s family and tempting to not want to prolong life….”

  “Wait a minute,” Ellie said. “What are you saying?”

  The woman hesitated. “I’m saying, that even though I can
understand how busy a person’s life is, and how coming to a nursing home on a regular basis….”

  Ellie sat stunned, appalled. “Grandma Betty is the one that wants to die. It’s not my decision. She’s says it’s her time.”

  “Yes. But, surely you realize she’s not thinking straight. That being ill has….”

  “No,” Ellie said. “I do not realize that. My Grandma Betty is thinking perfectly clear. She’s tired. She’s tired of being sick, she’s tired of being in pain, and she just plain doesn’t want to live any longer.”

  The woman studied her. “And you’re tired, too. I can see that. That’s why dealing with situations such as this are best left to professionals. Someone not so close to the situation.”

  Ellie shook her head. “She hates it here. You have to know that.”

  “Yes, but we also know that she has nowhere else to go. I’ve spoken with your father….”

  Ellie stared.

  “And as her POA, he is in full agreement. Either she eats or we’re looking at a stomach tube. I’ve taken the liberty to check on her insurances….” When the woman started shuffling through some papers, Ellie stood to leave. Whenever the mention of her father or Medicaid was brought up, she knew better than to argue. “Might I ask you a question?” she ventured from the door.

  “Yes.”

  “Are there other nursing homes that don’t have this policy? Ones that would allow her, her wish to die?”

  “Yes,” the woman said. “But trust me, I don’t think you’d want her there.”

  Ellie felt the impact of that statement wash over her. “Does my grandmother know?”

  “Yes, I talked to her just a little while ago. Obviously she’s upset, but that’s just the way it is. And if I might give you some advice. You seem like a nice young woman and I’ve been told you are very attentive to your grandmother. I’m sure you want what’s best for her. But you can’t think like a child in this matter, a grandchild, if you will. You have to be the adult now, and the bottom line is, this is not your grandmother’s decision.”

  * * *

  Diablo listened somewhat sympathetically to Ellie’s account of the conversation, but seemed more concerned with the hockey game on her TV.

  “I wonder if it’s a law,” Ellie said, thinking out loud.

  “Probably.”

  Ellie looked at him; studied his profile, the angle of his nose, his jaw line. “You agree with them, don’t you?”

  Diablo shrugged.

  Ellie leaned her head back and stared at the ceiling. “Why does everything have to be so difficult? Why can’t just one thing be easy? Why can’t we just die when we want to?”

  Diablo glanced at her and with another glance, turned off the TV. “Look. I can’t even believe you want your grandmother to die. You talk about it like it’s nothing. You say you love her and yet….”

  Ellie held up her hands. “I don’t want my grandmother to die. I wish you all would stop saying that. It’s she who wants to die. It’s her time, Diablo. If she lived in the wild….” She trailed off.

  “The wild? Like up in Alaska, dinner for the wolves.”

  Ellie sighed. “You don’t understand.”

  “You got that right.”

  Ellie paused and shook her head. “No, but you think nothing of getting mad almost every day when I go see her.”

  “What, so you’re saying this is all my fault? That you’re wanting her to die because of me?”

  Ellie looked at him, just looked at him for a moment. “You know, I never realized just how selfish you are until now. This isn’t about you. And it isn’t about me.”

  Diablo sat back, that all too familiar anger flickering in his eyes.

  “You amaze me. There you sit, passing judgment on me, when all I want for my Grandma is what she wants. And yet, if you had your way, I’d go see her once a week, if that.”

  “That’s not true.”

  “Yeah, right. I’ll bet you can’t even remember the last time you saw your own grandmother, let alone care about mine. So please…spare me, okay.”

  “Fine. Consider yourself spared,” he said. He grabbed his keys and went home.

  * * *

  Abby waited and waited, then went ahead and tacked Bubba and started riding, assuming Ellie would arrive shortly. She’d probably get after her about her riding alone. “You don’t ride alone, just like you don’t swim alone.” But after all, Ellie always rode alone. Why shouldn’t she?

  Ellie found her on the ground and in tears. “Are you all right?”

  “No.” She just sat there, dirt all over her, even in her hair.

  “What happened?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Bubba was at the far end of the arena, reins down over his head and nosing around in the sawdust.

  “Come on, let’s get you up.” Ellie pulled Abby to her feet, helped dust her off, and jokingly asked if she could move her arms and legs. It was obvious she could. Bubba needed more attention at the moment. If he took another step forward, chances are he’d get hung up on a rein. “Where’s your helmet?”

  “Uh….”

  While Abby went for her helmet, Ellie retrieved Bubba and started back across the arena. “Are you sure you’re all right? Nothing broken?”

  Abby shook her head. She was older than Ellie and towered over her, but at times, like now, Abby reminded her of a child.

  “I can’t believe he dumped me like that. Why’d he do that?”

  Ellie shrugged, checking his tack. “I don’t know. He’s a horse. Horses do strange things sometimes. Just like some people I happen to know,” she added, hoping to make Abby laugh, to lighten the situation. It had the opposite effect.

  “Do you think he’ll do it again?”

  Ellie smiled. “I doubt it. Since you don’t exactly recall how you landed on your butt in the first place, it would be pretty hard to duplicate.”

  That succeeded in making Abby laugh, but then all too quickly, she turned grave again. This wasn’t the first time she’d been thrown, and if not thrown, fallen. “We were just cantering along and the next thing I knew, I was on the ground.”

  Ellie looked at her. “Oh, I hate when that happens.”

  Abby laughed again. She’d never seen Ellie get dumped. She’d never even seen her come close to getting dumped. “I’ll never learn to ride. Not like you, at least.”

  “Sure you will. Now come up. Up you go.”

  Abby hesitated. “Maybe there’s something wrong with him. Do you think he has something wrong with him?”

  “No. Nothing a little exercise won’t cure.”

  Abby sighed and mounted, felt around for her stirrups, as she’d been taught, no looking, and then just sat there. “What should I do?”

  Ellie glanced up at her. “Whatever you want. Just don’t fall again till I come back out. Okay?”

  Abby smiled. What would she do without Ellie? She always had a way of cheering her up and making her feel better. Even with the vision that night at the solstice party, the premonition, frightening as it was, all those dancing and falling lights, danger lurking somewhere. “I swear, Ellie. One of us is going to die. I know that’s what it meant.”

  “We’re all going to die,” Ellie had said, “sooner or later. So unless your vision registered a prescribed date and time….”

  Lolita cawed from a tree branch outside the window. Once, twice, three times. Far off in the distance, a mocking bird sang a taunting song. Abby walked Bubba around the perimeter of the arena, round and round, and was relieved when Ellie finally appeared with Damian. Bubba was always happier with another horse in the ring. “Did you ride yesterday?”

  “No.” Ellie adjusted Damian’s girth up one notch and then another. “I had to meet with the undertaker.”

  “Honestly?”

  Ellie nodded and motioned. “Remember, seeing eyes. No running up on us.”

  Abby chuckled. She had a habit of concentrating so hard on one particular aspect of riding, she would
sometimes lose sight of where she was in the arena in respect to other horses, and would ride up practically right on top of them. That, or cut them off coming the other way, since she was also prone to reversing directions without telling the other riders, and….

  It was precisely that latter move which sparked their friendship. Ellie yelled, “Heads up!” one fine Saturday morning. Abby attributed it to saving her life. And they’d been buddies ever since.

  Damian was feeling his oats and “on the muscle” from the get-go, dancing and prancing and tossing his head. “I probably should have lunged him first,” Ellie commented, when he’d taken to cantering in place, trying to pull the reins out of her hands.

  Abby marveled. Ellie never got rattled, never got angry. Firm, yes, she’d seen Ellie get after Damian, but never harshly. Her method of bringing him down was to “trot the hell out of him.” Along the wall, down the sides, small circles, large circles, across the diagonal, more circles, and all the while she talked to him. Eventually Damian started to relax on the bit. And it was then, as Abby was trotting at the other end of the arena, that Bubba suddenly dropped his shoulder, bolted to the inside, and dumped her again.

  She landed hard on her back. Ellie thought she heard something snap from way over where she was riding, but couldn’t get to her right away. Bubba began running around the arena, snorting, his stirrup leathers and stirrups slapping against his sides. That was all Damian needed to start acting up again. He commenced to bucking and dancing and propping and wheeling - and then he bucked some more. It took some time for Ellie to get him in hand and calmed down enough to try and dismount.

  Meanwhile, Abby just lay there.

  * * *

  Grandma Betty insisted she be allowed to walk to the bathroom on her own, even though it had been months since she’d even stood unassisted. “Your legs are too weak, Betty. You’ll fall. Here, let us help you.” The two aides positioned Grandma Betty’s walker in front of her and gently helped her rise to her feet, where she teetered and wobbled for a moment on toothpick-like legs, and ultimately plopped back down in her chair.

  She felt an agonizing pain inside, deep inside, that reminded her of childbirth. “Oh, that hurts,” she moaned.

  “Where, Betty?” one of the aides asked.