Patricia Rockwell - Essie Cobb 04 - Ghosted

by Patricia Rockwell

  “Hi, Mom!” greeted Claudia. “Oh, hello, DeeDee,” she added when she saw Essie’s morning aide by the sink. She walked over to Essie. Pru and the others followed behind. “Pru and I are here as we promised to help you clear out your closet. I’ve brought Bo and his friend Dugan to help us load stuff into our van. Ned’s here to set up your new answering machine.” Each of the three young men gave a cheerful wave at Essie when mentioned.

  “Hi, Mom!” added Pru, removing her jacket and placing it over a side chair. She opened a plastic sack she was carrying and brought out a can and handed it to the aide. “DeeDee, this is a vitamin supplement that Mom’s internist has added to her meds. He says she needs a tablespoon of it in water or juice, morning and night.”

  “I just gave her the morning pills,” said DeeDee taking the can and returning to the sink. “I can get it started right now, Miss Pru. You’ll need to alert Nancy, the head nurse, so she can add this to her list of meds.”

  “Of course,” said Pru. “I’ll call her today.” As DeeDee was opening the can of vitamin powder and adding the correct amount to a glass of water, the others quickly went about their appointed duties. Pru headed off into the bedroom, carrying several large black plastic sacks. The oldest grandson, Ned, carrying a cardboard box, immediately moved behind Essie’s recliner and started pulling out plugs and wires that connected Essie’s landline phone to the wall outlets. The younger grandson, Bo, and his friend Dugan––both looking appropriately bored and cool––remained ‘on call’ by the front door. DeeDee brought the glass of water with the new vitamin supplement to Essie which Essie downed quickly.

  “Yuck,” said Essie, handing the empty glass back to DeeDee. DeeDee returned to the sink and rinsed the glass.

  “I guess we’ll just have to leave this can of supplement on the sink. It’s too big to lock in the medicine box,” DeeDee called out to the sisters.

  “That’s fine, DeeDee,” said Claudia. “I’ll have Pru tell Nancy to let Lorena know that’s where we’ll keep it.” DeeDee smiled and waved good-bye to Essie and headed out the door.

  “Wait, Claudia!” cried Essie to her younger daughter who was heading toward the bedroom. “What’s going on? I don’t want an answering machine. I told you that. And I don’t want anyone going through my closet or taking anything out of it!”

  Claudia froze mid-stride. Pru stuck her head out of the bedroom. Ned stopped his machinations on the floor behind Essie’s end table. Bo and Dugan, who had been leaning against the wall by the front door looking a little sleepy, now perked up.

  “Mom,” said Claudia, sitting on the sofa beside the recliner and reaching over to grasp her mother’s hands, “I thought we had settled this last night at dinner.”

  “You and Pru settled it,” said Essie defiantly. “I didn’t get a say in it.”

  “But, Mom…”

  Pru moved over to Essie’s recliner and kneeled beside it so she could touch her mother’s arm. Now both daughters were focused on Essie. The three young men were motionless as the sisters spoke to Essie.

  “Mom,” said Claudia, “we’ve gone over and over the answering machine business. It really isn’t negotiable. We need to be able to leave you messages.”

  “Yes, Mom,” agreed Pru, rubbing Essie’s arm. “You’re hardly ever in your room. Sometimes I call you ten or fifteen times before I finally find you here.”

  “And we both have families. We can’t spend so much time trying to contact you just to find you not here.”

  “That’s ridiculous!” snorted Essie. “I’m here a lot! I’m here now!”

  “Mom,” continued Pru softly. “It would be such a comfort to me, and I’m sure to Claudia, if we knew we could contact you more easily.”

  “But girls,” said Essie. “I just don’t see how an answering machine makes it easier for you to contact me. It just makes it easier for you to leave me messages.”

  “Yes,” said Claudia. “We leave a message for you when you’re out and about, and then when you arrive back in your apartment, you just check your answering machine and if you have any messages, you listen to them.”

  “But it has buttons,” said Essie, glancing over at the complex device that Ned had just extracted from the cardboard box.

  “Ned will teach you how it works, Mom,” said Claudia. “I promise; it’s easy!”

  “Not likely,” muttered Essie as her shoulders dropped. “Oh, all right. Set it up, Ned. But don’t get mad at me if I can’t get it to work.”

  “Don’t worry, Grandma,” said Ned brightly. “This is the simplest model they make!” He quickly started manipulating her telephone and attaching it to the new device.

  “Good!” said Claudia. “Now, that’s settled. Now, about the closet…”

  “No!” said Essie, crossing her arms and scowling. “I want everything that’s in there.”

  “Really, Mom?” asked Pru. She stood and headed into the bedroom. Soon she returned with a large cardboard box. Setting it on the floor, she opened it up and began removing various items.

  “What’s that?” asked Essie.

  “That’s what I’d like to know,” said Pru, continuing to remove items which included place mats, scarves, portions of old picture frames, and other unnamable items.

  “That was in my closet?” asked Essie sheepishly.

  “Yes, Mom,” said Pru. She held up some of the strange things. “Are these the beloved keepsakes that you must save?”

  “No,” said Essie, confused. “Actually, I’ve never seen those things.”

  “So, can we give them away?” asked Claudia.

  “Or just throw them out?” suggested Pru cautiously, continuing to remove items from the box.

  Essie stared at the weird things that Pru produced from the box. She thought and thought as to what they were and what importance they held. For the life of her, she couldn’t remember when she had acquired them or when she had put them in that box.

  “There are lots of boxes just like this one, Mom,” said Pru, staring pointedly at Essie.

  “Oh, all right!” said Essie, finally. “As you’re all ganging up on me. Let’s clear out my closet!” The daughters cheered and started to move, as did the two younger boys by the door. “But, wait!” added Essie.

  Everyone froze again.

  “I want to see every single thing before you throw it out or take it away. Is that clear?” Essie demanded.

  “Of course, Mom,” agreed Claudia.

  “We don’t want to throw away anything that’s important to you, Mom,” added Pru. “We’d never do that!”

  “All right,” said Essie. “Then you all go get the things from the closet and I’ll stay here and tell you whether or not you can dispose of them.”

  “Agreed,” said Pru.

  “Bo! Dugan!” called Claudia to the two boys who were slouched against the wall by Essie’s front door, “get those plastic bags and bring them over here. You two can start loading bags into our van when they’re full.”

  The two teenagers quickly followed Claudia’s directions and moved over to the center of Essie’s living room with a pile of plastic garbage bags ready to be filled. Pru and Claudia then headed for the bedroom with Bo and Dugan following behind. Ned remained at the end table still connecting wires and cables from phone to answering machine and back again.

  “There you go, Grandma!” he said finally. “A brand new answering machine! Just for you!”

  “Oh yippee, blippee!” replied Essie with a pasted-on smile.

  CHAPTER SIX

  “The past is a ghost, the future a dream, and all we ever have is now.”

  ––Bill Cosby

  Much later, Essie was still seated in her recliner as her relatives swooped around rearranging her belongings—and apparently—her life for her.

  “And you just press this button when you want to hear the messages,” said Ned, pointing to a large black square at the top of the white plastic box now resting ominously on Essie’s end table. Wires ra
n from the box to her telephone, to the outlet on the wall behind her chair and back. A mound of food wrappers and leftover trash from some fast food that Pru had gone out for an hour or so ago was strewn around Essie’s small living room. Her apartment smelled of cheap hamburgers, she thought. The Happy Haven chef made much more appetizing burgers than the one she’d just eaten. It tasted more like several layers of cardboard and it smelled worse. But the beverage was another story.

  “And what if I don’t want to hear any messages?” she asked her grandson, leisurely sipping a strawberry milkshake from a large paper cup. He chuckled and smiled warmly at her.

  “You don’t have to listen to any messages until you want to, Grandma.”

  “Which may be never,” said Essie with a twinkle in her eye. “Yum, this is good. It’s been so long since I’ve had a milkshake.” She stirred the ice cream at the bottom with her straw.

  “Now, Grandma,” cautioned Ned in a whisper, “don’t get me involved in this little battle you’re having with Mom and Aunt Pru. I’m just a handyman following orders. If someone tells me to unhook this answering machine, I will. I don’t want to get caught in the middle!”

  Essie looked at her young grandson’s sweet face. Ned always seemed so eager and enthusiastic—so different from his more lethargic and seemingly surly brothers. She could never be mad at him, and she guessed his mother never could either. He could probably use those angelic looks to charm some young woman someday too.

  “So, I press this button?” she asked, placing her finger on the one in question.

  “Right! Here, let’s try it. We’ve already set up your voice mail greeting. I’m going to call you. Don’t answer the phone. Just let the machine answer and I’ll leave a message and then you’ll see how it works.”

  “What?” said Essie as Ned rose and pulled his cell phone from his pocket and headed to the bedroom.

  “Don’t answer the phone, Grandma!”

  Immediately the telephone began to ring. Essie looked at her trusty landline phone, now hooked up to the strange answering device as if it were an ailing invalid on life support. She set her half-finished drink on the end table. Her inclination was to reach for the receiver but she resisted. After two rings, the answering machine made a clicking noise and Essie could hear her own voice saying, “This is Essie. Leave a message and I’ll call you later.” It was eerie to hear her own recorded voice. Then there was another click and she heard Ned’s voice say, “Hi, Grandma. This is Ned. This is our test call. Bye.” Then she heard another click and Ned returned from the bedroom.

  “Did you hear that, Grandma?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she said. “So, now what do I do?”

  “Just imagine, Grandma, that you were out playing poker—”

  “I don’t play poker!” snorted Essie.

  “Okay,” said Ned, “that you were out playing Canasta…” Essie smiled. “You weren’t here in your apartment and someone called and needed to talk to you. So, now when they call and you’re not here, they’ll hear this message and they’ll leave a message. So when you return from… Canasta, you can play your messages and find out if there’s anyone you need to call back.”

  “Won’t this thing be recording messages when I’m here?” she asked, confused.

  “No,” said Ned gently. “You turn it on with this ‘on’ switch here whenever you leave your apartment.” He pointed to another button next to the ‘play message’ button.

  “So complicated!” retorted Essie.

  “Just a few buttons to remember, Grandma,” said Ned as he squeezed her hand. “Just one you press when you leave and want to turn the answering part on. One you press when you want to hear the messages people leave.”

  Ned continued in this vein, explaining and re-explaining the answering machine and helping Essie practice the various features until he eventually felt as if she had mastered all of its working parts.

  “You’re a pro, Grandma!” he said, brushing a lock of wayward blond hair from his forehead. “Anyone would think you’ve been using answering machines all your life!”

  “That would be hard, as no one knew what an answering machine was for most of my life!” she said with a chuckle that the young man shared.

  As they were laughing, the rest of the group re-entered from the bedroom.

  “Grandma’s a whiz at the answering machine!” announced Ned to his mother who was carrying a large cardboard box. Pru followed her, also with several smaller boxes. The two younger boys, Bo and Dugan, trailed behind carrying loaded sacks and additional boxes. Neither of them looked terribly enthusiastic and Essie felt sorry for the two youngsters whom she thought should be out doing what teenagers do on a beautiful fall Saturday afternoon. Oh, she mused, maybe that would be sleeping.

  “Good!” replied Claudia, placing the boxes before Essie’s feet. Pru and the boys added their boxes to the pile.

  “What’s all that?” asked Essie.

  “This is all from the back of your closet, Mom,” said Claudia. “We’ve been sorting through this while you and Ned were busy on the phone. Bo, you and Dugan hold open those sacks and we’ll put charity items in this one and throw-outs in the other. Ned, you help too.”

  Claudia and Pru ripped open the first box and began pulling out items. This box contained old Christmas decorations.

  “Oh, my!” said Essie. “Those are decorations we used to put on our tree when you girls were children. I remember that one.” She pointed to a paper star covered with glitter.

  “Mom,” said Pru, “you don’t set up a Christmas tree anymore. You don’t have room enough. Plus, Happy Haven has that big, beautiful tree they do every year in the lobby. Do you really need to keep old tree decorations?”

  “I guess not,” replied Essie, somewhat forlorn.

  “It would be different, Mom,” noted Claudia, “if you used these decorations, but it’s obvious that you haven’t even opened this box in all the years since you’ve been at Happy Haven.”

  “Yes, Mom,” added Pru. “Look! The box is covered with dust!”

  “You’re right,” agreed Essie.

  “Toss them?” asked Claudia, holding up several of the sparkly items in both hands like an auctioneer.

  “All right,” said Essie, resigned. “Toss them. I guess you can’t give them to charity?”

  “Mom,” said Claudia, “these are things that have meaning only to our family. It doesn’t make sense to donate these things. We’ll donate some items, but that’s what we need to decide now.”

  “Yes, Mom,” added Pru, “we need you to help us decide which items to toss and which to donate.”

  With Essie finally on board with the sisters’ procedure for cleaning out her closet, the girls moved quickly. The pile of ten or so boxes from the back of Essie’s closet was quickly unloaded and the items inside separated into bags for either charity or trash. The trash pile was soon the largest. As the center of Essie’s living room was piled high with shiny black bags, Claudia directed the boys to start transferring the bags outside to either the van or the Happy Haven dumpster, which they did.

  Next, the sisters started bringing in hanging items of clothes from the back of Essie’s closet.

  “My goodness, Mom!” cried Pru as she entered, her arms filled with trousers, shirts, and dresses on hangers. “I’ve never seen most of these clothes.”

  “This is a beautiful dress!” exclaimed Claudia, setting down her pile on a nearby armchair, and lifting one fancy black cocktail dress up high. “Have you ever worn this?”

  “Oh, I think I did—once,” said Essie from her recliner. “I may have worn it to one of your father’s business functions.”

  “It’s lovely!” noted Pru, moving over to her sister to examine the dress. “Do you want to keep it?”

  “Oh, no,” said Essie. “Where would I ever wear it? It’s much too fancy!”

  “I wish I were as small as you, Mom,” added Claudia. “I’d take it and wear it.”

  “Me t
oo,” added Pru. “You’re so petite!”

  “Ha!” said Essie, laughing. “Tell that to Dr. Graves. He’s always telling me to lose weight.”

  “Do you have any photos of you wearing this, Mom?” asked Pru. “You must have been stunning in it.”

  “Dad’s eyes probably popped out,” added Claudia. “He loved it when you wore low-cut dresses like this.”

  “Too low-cut, if you ask me,” said Essie. “Hmm. He did like that dress, I think. Maybe that’s why I kept it. I can’t remember.”

  “What should we do?” Pru asked Claudia as the sisters looked at the dress, fingering the material gently.

  The three boys returned.

  “All the charity boxes are in the van, Mom,” said Ned. “Now what?”

  “Start folding the clothes in this pile and put them in a bag and then take them out to the van,” said Claudia, motioning directions to the boys. The three young men quickly hopped into action and began stuffing clothing into the bags.

  “Give it to charity,” said Essie. “You’re right. There’s no place for me to wear something like this now—if I could even fit into it.”

  Claudia added the cocktail dress to the charity bag and the boys gathered the new items and headed out. Claudia and Pru headed back into Essie’s bedroom, soon returning with more clothes.

  “I wear that!” cried Essie when she saw her favorite top.

  “Good!” said Pru, setting the item aside on Essie’s sofa. “What about this?” She held up another item for Essie’s response. The sisters brought out each and every piece of clothing hanging in Essie’s closet. If Essie couldn’t remember wearing the garment within the last year, the sisters put it in the charity pile. Soon they had removed every box, sack, and hanging item from Essie’s closet. Essie had given her thumbs up or down on each and every one. But the sisters weren’t done yet. They now returned carrying armfuls of folded clothes.

  “What’s that now?” asked Essie.

  “These are all clothes that we found stuffed in your dresser drawers,” said Claudia. She set the pieces on an arm chair and started counting. “Mom, you have over twenty bras!”