Long Shot

by D. Jackson Leigh

  This hallway was very different—no bulletin boards on the walls, no pictures. A waist-high handrail extended down both sides of the hallway. The wall below the rail was painted brown, with textured beige covering the top half. The floors were covered with industrial vinyl.

  The rooms were equipped with hospital beds, but some of them also contained personal items like pictures, blankets, or bookshelves. It was lunchtime and most of the patients were eating in their rooms. Several sat in wheelchairs, parked in the hallway to eat their lunches on trays and stare at each other. There apparently was no dining room, but Leah saw a central room with a few plastic tables and chairs and a large-screen television surrounded by several vinyl-covered sofas. The air smelled like a heavy pine-scented disinfectant.

  “I know it looks sparse,” Mr. Brown began to explain. “But our primary responsibility is to keep these patients safe and clean. That’s not easy to do.”

  Leah nodded. She knew firsthand what a full-time job it was to keep Gram from wandering off or finding something in the house that could harm her.

  “We don’t encourage the families of these patients to bring a lot from home because the things can go missing. It’s not that anyone steals anything, but other patients often mistake things as their own and take them, or the dementia patients tend to give their things away, then forget who has them. The staff just doesn’t have time to keep up with it all. As the residents’ minds deteriorate, they usually become incontinent. That’s why the floors and furniture are surfaces we can sterilize.”

  “Why are the colors so plain and the walls bare in here?”

  “Too much stimulation can agitate the advanced patients. One distressed patient wandering the halls and making a ruckus can stir up a lot of the others, and the staff has to lock them in their rooms to calm down.”

  They walked past a patient slumped in her wheelchair, asleep. Urine dripped from the chair onto the floor.

  Mr. Brown detoured to the nurses’ station. “Annette, Mrs. Johnston needs to be returned to her room and changed,” he ordered, pointing down the hall.

  The nurse looked up from her charting. “Yes, sir. Dot is on her break, but I’ll send Corrine as soon as she finishes with Mr. Bracken.”

  Leah and Mr. Brown stepped closer to the nurses’ counter as a cafeteria worker pushed the lunch-tray rack past them. “You need to send Corrine into Mrs. Morris’s room. Whew! She has done made a mess in that bed,” the worker said.

  Corrine ambled toward them, carrying a plastic bag full of soiled laundry. “I swear, if the kitchen serves them cabbage one more time, I’m going to have a come-to-Jesus meeting with that cook. These folks’ old stomachs just can’t digest that stuff.”

  Mr. Brown reddened, but remained calm. “Perhaps you could take care of Mrs. Johnston, Annette, while Corrine sees to Mrs. Morris.”

  The nurse glanced at Leah. It was clear from her expression this was not the usual procedure, but most likely prompted by her presence. “Right away, Mr. Brown,” she said, closing her paperwork.

  Mr. Brown explained the locks and other security systems installed to keep the mentally disabled patients safe, then invited Leah to join him in his office to go over cost and financing.

  “I don’t want finances to be a deciding factor on where my grandmother lives,” Leah said. “If Kentwood is among my final choices, I’ll visit again to discuss the financial arrangements.”

  “That’s up to you, Ms. Montgomery. But I think you’ll find extended care can be an expensive venture. Kentwood works very hard to help the families of our patients find adequate financing.”

  “Thank you. I’ll keep that in mind.”

  *

  Leah was shaken by what she’d seen. Mr. Brown’s explanations for the Alzheimer’s accommodations all made sense. But she would not take her beloved Gram from her green pastures, flower garden, freshly baked pies, and front-porch rocker to live out her last years in a beige, vinyl-covered environment. Never ever.

  She reminded herself that a one-source story wasn’t a balanced investigation, so she decided to check out the other two facilities on her immediate list.

  She never slowed down when she drove past the first one. Surrounded by a parking lot, it looked like the place poor patients with only Medicaid to pay their bills ended up.

  The third place looked hopeful. The colonial-style building had a broad front porch filled with rockers. Gram would like that. So Leah parked and trailed in after a family of five apparently there to visit someone.

  Nobody was at the front desk, but the visitors seemed to know where they were going and headed down a hallway to the right. Leah turned left. She pushed the panel indicated to open the double doors and walked right past a nursing station where a male employee was entertaining two female employees with a story. They glanced her way, but did not stop her. She heard a patient calling for a nurse and saw the lights over the doors of two patient rooms blinking to indicate the inhabitants needed assistance.

  A fourth employee came in through an exterior door at the end of the hall, still blowing out cigarette smoke from her lungs, and headed toward one of the blinking lights. The exterior door didn’t close all the way, propped open by a block of wood to keep from locking smokers out. Leah peeked out. The area behind the building was grassed for about thirty feet, then dropped into a deep ravine with a woods on the other side. Leah headed back toward the nurses’ station, passing an elderly man who was shuffling resolutely toward the open door.

  Did things like this happen even at the good places like Kentwood? Fortunately, Leah knew how to find out.

  She stopped at the nurses’ station and slapped her hand on the counter. “Hey, that back door is open and one of y’all’s patients is headed straight for it.” Her tone wasn’t very polite.

  One of the women jumped up to retrieve the patient. The other two lounged in their seats and eyed Leah. They weren’t interested enough, however, to ask who she was. The female nurse glared at the male nurse. “I told you not to prop that door open anymore.”

  “Do you see me sitting right here? It ain’t me this time.”

  Leah had heard enough. She wasn’t even back in her Jeep when she began ticking off the research ahead of her. First thing would be a public-information request for any violations reported by state inspectors and the fines levied. Those usually took a while to get a response. In the meantime, she’d search the archives of the local newspaper, then the two larger papers that covered the state to see if anything had been written on the extended-care facilities. She’d check with Jimmy, too, to see if he recalled any incidents of patients wandering off from local nursing homes.

  For the first time since she’d stepped onto the hot sidewalk outside the Dallas Morning News, newly unemployed with the contents of her desk in a cardboard box, Leah had a direction in her life again. Even if it was just temporary, it felt good.

  *

  Margaret and Gram were sitting on the porch when Leah pulled up and parked. Margaret looked enormously relieved and hurried out to intercept Leah before she made it to the house.

  “I had no idea she’d gotten so bad,” Margaret said. “She’s been restless, insisting that we need to go to the store because you were coming to visit. I tried to explain that you were already here, just out for a while. That didn’t seem to work, so I told her that you’d worry if we were gone when you got here.”

  “It’s okay. Thanks for staying with her. I didn’t mean to be away so long.”

  “How’d it go?” Margaret looked very concerned.

  “Not too well. I’ve got a lot more looking to do.”

  “Oh, dear. She really can’t stay here on her own, can she?”

  “No, I’m afraid not.” Leah gave Margaret a weak smile. “I’ll figure out something, but I refuse to put her in one of those places I saw today.”

  Margaret patted Leah’s arm. “She’s so lucky to have you.”

  “I’ve been lucky all my life to have her,” Leah replied, head
ing to the porch.

  Gram was dressed in a simple flowered dress, with white pumps and a white purse clutched in her lap.

  “Gram, are you going somewhere?”

  “Oh, my granddaughter is coming to take me to the store,” Gram said, her eyes searching the driveway.

  “You’re in luck,” Leah said cheerfully. “I’m your granddaughter, and that’s exactly why I’m here, to take you grocery shopping.”

  Gram’s eyes focused on Leah for the first time and she smiled. “I know who you are.”

  “Of course you do. I was just teasing, sugar.” Leah held her hand out to help Gram step down off the porch. “My, you look nice this afternoon. Did Margaret help you pick out that pretty dress? And with shoes and a purse to match. I could have helped you get dressed.”

  Gram giggled. “If I let you dress me, you’d have me wearing those cowboy boots of yours.”

  Leah hooked her arm in Gram’s and winked at Margaret. “I know you secretly want my boots, Gram. I bet you try them on when I’m not looking.”

  Gram laughed. “I do not.”

  Margaret seemed shocked at Gram’s sudden return to the present, but Leah was used to it. What did surprise her was that it didn’t bother her any longer. They waved good-bye to Margaret and headed into town.

  Leah was hoping a little trip off the farm might be a good way to tire Gram out so she could put her to bed and get busy with her research.

  Chapter Eight

  Leah preferred to shop at the trendy grocery that carried organic foods and a larger ethnic selection, but she took Gram to the local Food Mart where she had shopped for years. The aisles of groceries and the faces of the employees were more familiar to her. They really didn’t need anything, but they strolled up and down each aisle.

  Gram would occasionally stop and pick up a box or can of something. She selected a huge box of cereal Leah’s grandfather used to eat daily and put it in their cart. The cereal was hard and tasted like tree bark. Leah always wondered if that was why he had to wear dentures by the time he was fifty. She did know that Gram didn’t eat it. So, while Gram was inspecting some canned peaches, Leah discreetly took the box from the cart and set it on the nearest shelf, next to the salad dressings. A teenager who was restocking shelves glared at her. He would have to return it to the correct aisle.

  “Sorry,” Leah whispered, nodding toward her grandmother.

  The teen didn’t seem to comprehend, but Leah didn’t care. She wheeled the cart past Gram so she wouldn’t turn around and see the rejected cereal.

  Leah spotted Jessica when they turned toward the meat counter. “Jessie?” God, it had been sixteen years, but Jessica’s trademark pale blue eyes and dark French braid were unmistakable.

  “Leah? Oh my God! When Tory said you were in town, I couldn’t believe it. I half expected you to come trotting down the drive on Nighty so we could hang out like we used to. This is so great.” Jessica hugged her.

  Leah returned the hug. She was suddenly taken back to long summers with two barefoot girls riding ponies bareback to explore the trails on the large Parker estate and adjacent state park. Those were happy, stress-free times.

  But when Jessica was around twelve years old she stopped coming to Cherokee Falls in the summer. She had begun to seriously train as a rider and worked with a trainer year-round near her home in Atlanta.

  “Here you go, Ms. Black. Twenty pounds of fresh ground chuck and thirty pounds of beef ribs.” The butcher loaded the meat into Jessica’s cart, next to the hamburger buns, fresh produce, and lots of chips and dip. “That must be some party you’re planning.”

  “We’ve never had all our friends over at once, so we thought we’d do it this summer while the weather is nice enough for something informal and outdoors.”

  “Well, you tell Kate not to burn those ribs. They’re some of my best.”

  “I’m afraid Kate and Mom are still in Greece. Skyler will have to do the grilling. I’ll be sure and warn her.”

  “Tell her to soak them in the barbecue sauce overnight and turn them every five minutes until they’ve cooked twenty minutes,” he instructed.

  “I’ll do that. Thank you.”

  Jessica turned back to Leah. “You’ll come, won’t you? I’d love the chance to catch up on what you’ve been doing.”

  Leah glanced toward Gram, who was picking through the packages of bacon a few feet away. “I’d love to. I really would. But I can’t leave Gram alone. I told Tory that.”

  “Tory asked you?”

  In the years they hadn’t seen each other, Jessica’s expressions hadn’t changed.

  “Okay. What’s up with that? I can tell you’re surprised that she asked. Does she have a girlfriend or something?”

  “No, it’s just that Tory hasn’t dated for a while. It’s a long story.”

  Leah crossed her arms over her chest. “I’ve got time. Gram will look at every package of bacon they have before she picks one.”

  Jessica sighed. “I guess I should tell you, because someone will if you come to the party. Tory and I were sort of dating when Skyler and I connected.”

  “Skyler? Oh, yeah. Tory mentioned her.”

  Jessica’s smile was brilliant. “She’s my honey. I’m running the farm now and Skyler is director of the Young Equestrian Program.”

  “Tory mentioned your mom and Kate are back together. That’s so cool. So you dumped Tory? Are you nuts? She’s a hottie.” It was as if they were twelve again and gossiping about Josh Friedman showing his penis to Candy Sheehan in the movie theater.

  “Skyler is pretty sizzling herself.” Jessica shrugged. “Tory’s a dream, but Skyler and I were just destined. We both felt terrible. Skyler is Tory’s best friend.”

  “Whoa. Y’all must have generated a lot of gossip.”

  “For a while. We managed to stay close friends, though, and it’s been almost a year. In fact, she’s helping Skyler at a show today.”

  Leah eyed her. “It’s been that long and you’re still surprised that she asked me?”

  “Well, she told me about… you know…” Jessica grinned and gestured toward her own butt. “She told me you shot her.”

  “I didn’t shoot her.” Leah stepped closer and whispered, “Gram shot her.” She paused for dramatic effect. “Shot her right through the leprechaun, poor little fellow.”

  “Leprechaun?”

  “The one tattooed on her right butt cheek.”

  “Tory has a tattoo? A leprechaun? Oh my God. I wonder if Skyler knows?” Jessica was laughing so hard, tears were beginning to leak from the corners of her eyes.

  “You never saw her leprechaun?”

  Jessica caught her breath and wiped at her eyes. “We didn’t get that far. I would have never guessed. Tory just doesn’t seem like the tattoo kind of girl.”

  “What kind of girl is she?” The words were out of Leah’s mouth before she could censor them, and she didn’t have a clue why she asked.

  “Tory is the best friend you could ever have. She always does the right thing, puts other people’s feelings before her own, sometimes to a fault. If Skyler didn’t own my heart, Tory would be at the top of my list.”

  That wasn’t what Leah wanted to hear. She wanted Jessica to say Tory was a player or had some other character flaw. Then Leah could wash away the images of the sexy vet that constantly crept into her thoughts at odd moments.

  “Yeah, well. Her superhero cape seems to slip a little when she’s around me.”

  Jessica wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. “I think she likes you. Come to the party.”

  “She likes me about as much as a dog likes fleas.”

  “Who does, honey?” Gram returned empty-handed, having forgotten her bacon mission. She stared at Jessica.

  “Hi, Gram,” Jessica said, greeting her as she had when she and Leah were children. “Remember me? Jessica Black.”

  Gram gave her a blazing smile. Sometimes far-off memories appeared easier to dredge up than the recent ones.
“Jessie! My goodness, you’ve grown up so pretty.”

  “Come to the cookout, and bring Gram with you,” Jessica insisted, turning back to Leah.

  Leah was doubtful, but Gram was delighted. “A cookout? How lovely. I’ll bake some pies to bring.”

  “You don’t have to bring anything, but I still dream about your chocolate pie,” Jessica admitted.

  Leah lowered her voice. “Gram, it’s going to be a lesbian cookout. Nothing but women, lesbian women. You do remember that I like girls, right?”

  “Oh.” Gram looked down. When she looked up again, the twinkle in her eye was reminiscent of the grandmother Leah loved as a child. “Lesbians don’t like pie?”

  Jessica chuckled. “She’s got you there, Rooster.”

  Leah groaned at Jessica’s use of her childhood nickname. “Okay. But if we come, you cannot call me that name in front of anybody. What time does this shindig start?”

  *

  Leah slowed her Jeep as several trucks pulling horse trailers in front of her turned into the fairgrounds just outside Cherokee Falls. “I wonder if this is the show where Jess said Tory was helping today?”

  “Your grandpa and I loved watching you and Nighty when you used to show him. Let’s go take a look,” Gram said eagerly.

  “That would be fun, if you aren’t too tired.”

  “I’m fine. I get tired of sitting around the farm with nothing to do. Let’s go see what’s going on.” Gram practically wiggled in her seat in anticipation.

  Leah recognized many of the farm names displayed on the trucks and trailers. Youngsters and their horses were gathered around their riding instructors to get last-minute orders before heading over to one of three show rings. It seemed like yesterday that she was standing among them, fidgeting with nervous excitement while Nighty waited placidly to carry her over jumps in the junior competitor class.

  She spied the familiar Cherokee Falls Equestrian Center logo emblazoned on the side of several dually trucks and long trailers. When she recognized the Greyson Veterinary truck parked next to them, she tugged Gram in that direction.