by B. A. Beers
“She had followed his instructions to the letter. She told me she had received a personal call from Dr. Porter that day. He told her the lab results had been inconclusive, and that she needed to report to the hospital the next day for a biopsy with the possibility there could be cancer. Her crying renewed.”
“For the next two years, we battled this disease. We lost that battle two years ago. She died in my arms.” Tears were flowing down Mark’s face through his closed eyes. He slowly opened his eyes hoping to see Sami’s compassionate face gazing up at him, but she still had not moved.
“Now you see that I do know how you feel. For I, too, have lost a beloved spouse. But Sami, you are stronger than I,” Mark ventured, wiping the tears off his cheeks. “I could not continue to live in our home, or the ‘death house’, where everything reminded me of her. I feared that I would be consumed by the memory. I took the easy path. I moved here to pick up the pieces of my life. I know that Pat is out of pain now. I know that she would not wish for me to suffer. I have her memories to fill my heart and mind. I console myself, for I feel that when I think of her, she is not totally out of my reach. To tell you a secret, I still hear her voice at times guiding and helping me even at this moment.” He smiled at this confession.
Mark felt exhausted after sharing this gut-wrenching memory. He gazed at Sami for several minutes desperately wanting her to awaken from her trance. “Damn, so much for the emotional level approach,” he exploded. He looked behind him to the chair where he knew Grandma Jo was sitting. She had a tissue pressed under her nose and tears were still streaking down her face. She leaned forward, and extended her hand toward him. He turned on the bed, and grabbed her hand. “Well,” he started squeezing her hand, “I tried logic and emotion. As you can see, no results.” His frustration was evident in his voice.
“Mark,” she choked, “you said we were a team.” He nodded. “Let me try,” she offered. “Maybe a familiar voice to her could help.”
“Give it your best shot.” Mark stood up, his legs shaking. “I need to get some air.”
***
FOURTEEN
Mark headed to the door while Grandma Jo took his place on the bed. “Sami, this is Grandma Jo.” He heard her say as he moved down the hall.
Mark’s mind was racing. The faster it raced, the madder he got. “I pour my heart out to her and am rewarded with nothing,” he announced outwardly to the empty kitchen. He spotted the back door and blasted out of it like a bull on a rampage, needing the cool air to clear his thoughts.
Hearing a startled yelp, he stopped dead in his tracks. He had forgotten about Molly, who he had just driven into her doghouse. “That’s smart,“ he scolded himself, “scare the dog to death.” Guilt replaced his anger.
Waiting momentarily for his eyes to adjust to the darkness of late evening, he moved to the doghouse, got down on his hands and knees, and peered within. He could barely see her tucked away in the back of her house. The moonlight reflected in her frightened eyes. In a low whisper, he tried calling her out. “Come here, girl. I’m sorry. I didn’t want to frighten you. I won’t hurt you.” Molly stared at him, refusing to move. Mark laughed, thinking that both females in this house were failing to respond to him. “You and the woman back there are connected somehow, aren’t you?” he offhandedly commented. A light bulb clicked on in his head, recalling the vision of Pat he had experienced earlier. “That’s it!” he cried, and got to his feet instantly. “Thanks, Pat,” he announced skyward.
Mark raced back through the house, stopping as he reached the bedroom. Grandma Jo looked at him, and shook her head to indicate that Sami had not responded to her attempts to reach her. He entered the room and quickly moved to Sami’s side. “I have an idea,” he told Grandma Jo. “Follow me.” He gathered Sami up into his arms again.
With Sami’s limp body in his arms, Mark turned and started for the door knowing that Grandma Jo was right behind him. Reaching the back door, he stepped aside and asked Grandma Jo to open it for him. Acknowledging his request, she flicked on the porch light, stepped out and held the door open. He proceeded outside, and glanced around for Molly, but she was nowhere in sight. She must still be hiding deep inside the doghouse, he thought. He moved to the glider, and slowly lowered Sami’s unresponsive body into it.
Mark looked toward the doghouse, and noticed, to his satisfaction, that Molly’s nose could be seen sticking out slightly at the front opening. He watched her whiskers dance like crazy as she sniffed the air. He reached out and gently touched Grandma Jo’s arm. She turned to him, as he indicated for her to back away slowly from Sami. Grandma Jo started to protest, but Mark silenced her by pressing a finger to his lips. He then pointed in the direction of the doghouse. She turned and looked to where he was pointing. With a knowing smile on her face, she withdrew slowly, as he had directed. They retreated a few feet away and waited.
Molly’s head was now almost all the way out of the doghouse. She glanced at Mark and Grandma Jo, then at Sami, back to them, and again to Sami. Mark knew that Molly’s reluctance to move to her mistress was due to their presence, but he also knew that it would not keep her long from Sami’s side. Just as the thought crossed his mind, Molly emerged from her house. Without a single glance in their direction, she ran over to Sami.
Expecting a pat or a scratch from her mistress, Molly wagged her tail. When she received no response from Sami, she went over to her basket, next to the chair, and picked up her brush between her teeth. She turned around and laid the brush tenderly on Sami’s lap. Seeing this, Grandma Jo grabbed Mark’s arm. Molly then turned to present her back to Sami, expecting the brushing to begin. Molly waited a few moments before she looked back at Sami. Turning around, she placed her head next to the brush, and rested it on Sami’s leg. Sensing something was wrong, Molly ceased wagging her tail. Mark could hear her whimper. Grandma Jo dug her fingers into Mark’s arm, but he was so caught up in the scene that he was barely aware of the pressure on his arm.
Molly’s tail began to wag again, as if she knew that Sami was responding. Mark’s hopes began to soar with the growing frenzy that it provoked. Molly lifted her head and licked Sami’s exposed fingers. Mark watched in utter fascination as the fingers began to move. Grandma Jo released his arm and covered her mouth to stifle the cry she felt welling up within her.
Mark held his breath as Sami lifted her head. She disentangled her fingers from the afghan, and placed her hand on Molly’s head. Mark could barely make out the words she softly spoke to Molly. “Hey girl, what am I doing out here?”
Mark exhaled, making a slight whistling noise loud enough for both Sami and Molly to hear, but soft enough so as not to scare either of them. Molly looked in his direction, wagging her tail. Before Sami had time to react, Mark spoke out softly as he moved closer. “I’m guilty of that act.”
Sami turned in his direction. Mark was unable to clearly see her face for the porch light behind her was radiating around her, obscuring his view. Yet, judging from her countenance, she was not frightened by his sudden appearance. “Hello,” Sami called out softly after several moments passed.
“Hi,” Mark responded. “How do you feel?”
“Rather cold and a little light headed,” she said truthfully, as her teeth began to chatter.
Mark moved in closer to help her as she started to rise out of the glider, losing the afghan in her attempt. He reached her just as her legs gave out, and pulled her into his arms. Grandma Jo was right behind him, grabbing the afghan and placing it around Sami’s shoulders. Sami didn’t struggle away from him. Closing her eyes, she leaned in closer, grateful for the support.
“Get her into the house quickly,” Grandma Jo ordered. “She needs warmth now!”
Mark didn’t waste time. He adjusted Sami in his arms and picked her up again. She tucked her head into his neck as he quickly walked toward the back door, followed closely by Grandma Jo. So closely that she ran into him as he abruptly stopped on the threshold to turn in search of Molly. His
eyes found Molly cowering near her doghouse. In a calm voice, Mark tried to soothe the frightened animal. “Good job, Molly, I knew you could do it! I’ll take it from here.” Molly’s ears perked up and her tail started its rhythmic drumming as if she knew exactly what he said. Mark was pleased. He was truly grateful for Molly’s help, and knew she understood. Glancing at Grandma Jo, he signaled that it was time to move.
***
FIFTEEN
Mark adjusted Sami in his arms, and felt her vibrate slightly as if she had just purred like a contented little kitten. He found himself wondering just what was going on inside her mind. Sami reached out and placed her arms around his neck, liking the way he held her. She felt safe and protected within his arms. Reaching the bed, Mark paused, suddenly reluctant to release this captive beauty. Grandma Jo misread his hesitation as a sign to draw down the coverlets on the bed. She stepped back to allow him the access to deposit Sami onto the now-ready bed. Mark struggled with this inner conflict. Somehow, he felt that Sami had responded to his touch, as if in need of this comfort. Deciding finally that this was neither the time nor the place for these feelings, he placed Sami down on the bed. Grandma Jo covered Sami, making sure to tuck the covers securely around her to supply the added warmth needed.
Sami, her eyes still tightly shut, was shivering. “What’s wrong with me? Why am I so cold?” she asked, her voice shaking. The chills rushed through her. Mark ordered Grandma Jo to bring her some hot food. She took off like a shot.
Mark went to the closet in search of warm clothes. He yanked opened the door expecting to find it to be full, but to his astonishment, there were very few items in the closet--a couple of slacks, some pullover sweaters and shoes. The rest of the closet was empty. There were no robes and no coats. Frustrated, he shut the door. Moving to the chest of drawers, he hoped for better luck. Opening the top drawer, he discovered her undergarments and socks. These items, too, were sparse, but arranged neatly. Closing the drawer, he moved to the next, that one contained summer items--shorts and T-shirts. Not warm enough, he thought, closing the drawer.
Opening the third drawer, he discovered exactly what he had wanted to find. It yielded two sets of sweats--one lime green and the other pale yellow. Both sets were in rather worn condition, but very functional for the purpose intended. He grabbed the yellow set and tossed it onto the bed, closing the drawer.
Returning to Sami, Mark noticed that she was shaking uncontrollably under the covers. He frowned, realizing that part of the shakes was a side effect of the hypnotic suggestion. Her body was reacting to feelings of being exposed, unprotected and vulnerable. Uncovering her, Mark sat on the edge of the bed and pulled her up to a sitting position. Reaching back for the sweats, he released her. She fell backwards onto the pillow. Oh great, he thought, so much for thinking I would get her help in this matter.
With the sweat top in hand, Mark stood up and reached for her again. Once he got her back to a sitting position, he sat behind her. Now, when he released her in order to free his hands, she would fall back against him. “This would be much easier if you would cooperate a little,” he said quietly to her. It would be a whole lot easier if I could lay down next to you, and curl my body around yours to share my body heat, he thought longingly, but didn’t voice it. Feeling her shake, he returned to the task on hand. Locating the neck opening of the sweat top, he eased it over her head. “This is like dressing a child,” he said out loud. “The only difference is the child would be helping me.”
Grandma Jo returned, carrying her tray of items. Taking in the sight before her, she couldn’t help laughing. Mark glanced up, giving her a look that would kill. “It appears you got your hands full,” she commented, her merriment echoed in her voice.
“That’s not funny.” Mark forced himself to maintain his composure, trying to see this scene through her eyes. “Now, put those things down and get over here,” he begged. Smiling, she complied.
Grandma Jo held the top while Mark guided Sami’s arms into the arm’s holes. Moments earlier he would have sworn that the shirt had none. He pushed Sami away from his chest, and Grandma Jo pulled the top down over the towel. “Now that was fun,” he announced tartly.
Releasing Sami once again, she fell back against his chest. “Time for the bottoms,” he grimaced, knowing that if the top was difficult, the bottoms would be pure hell. He made a move to get off the bed when Grandma Jo offered a suggestion.
“Wait, Mark,” she cried. “I believe it would be simpler to put on the pants with her in a standing position.”
“Well, of course it would,” he looked at her dumbfounded. “But, Sami is refusing to help.”
“I can see that, Mark.” Grandma Jo spoke softly trying to calm him. “How about picking her up and holding her in a standing position while I put the pants on her?” she offered.
“Great plan,” Mark perked up. “Hold her while I rearrange my position,” he directed. Grandma Jo reached out and supported Sami.
Placing one foot on the floor and kneeling on the bed with the other leg, he reached out and placed his arms around Sami’s waist, motioning for Grandma Jo to let go. With one swift move, he had Sami on her feet snuggled safely in his arms.
Grandma Jo moved swiftly. Grabbing the matching pants off the bed, she bent over and lifted each leg into the proper opening. With the pants at Sami’s ankles, she rapidly yanked them into place. “Mark, before you replace her back on the bed, can you rearrange your hold on her so I can reach the towel and remove it?” she asked.
Mark could feel the towel’s bulk under her sweat top. He tried holding up Sami by her arms and by her shoulders, but he couldn’t support her limp body this way. After several attempts, he was unable to release her enough to complete the request. “Nope,” he answered, “not possible in this position. Let me try sitting with her on my lap.”
Mark turned his back to the bed. Backing up and touching the bed with his leg, he sat, carrying Sami’s limp body with him. His frame made a perfect chair for her body. With her weight now supported by his legs and her back pressed up against his chest, he released his arms around her waist. He placed his hands on her arms to steady her from falling over. “She’s all yours,” he beamed at his own ingenious solution to their towel problem.
Grandma Jo reached under Sami’s top, loosened the towel and looked up at Mark. Using her arms, he pushed her away from his chest. Grandma Jo tried to pull the towel out, but it wouldn’t come freely. Frustrated, she glanced at his face. “Now what?” he asked impatiently.
“She is sitting on it,” she said, rather embarrassed.
“Why didn’t we think of that before when I had her standing?” Mark blurted out. Grandma Jo shrugged her shoulders. “Okay, okay,” he sighed. “Sorry, I know we are a team.” His tone lightened as he spoke. Smiling, he winked at her. “Let me get her weight off my lap.”
Turning Sami’s shoulders around to one side, he released her arms, bent forward to capture her, and then picked her up. This move did the trick. Grandma Jo pulled on the towel, and to her surprise, had it in her hands. Mark chuckled as he saw the expression on Grandma Jo’s face. He half expected her to break out in a ‘Ta da’, like a magician does after successfully removing a tablecloth out from under stacked dishes.
Sami began to shake harder. Mark’s expression changed as he looked down at her. She was murmuring something. He leaned closer to make out her words. “Cold, so cold.” He gathered her closer to his chest.
Turning to Grandma Jo, he issued instructions. “In the top drawer of the chest behind you are socks; get a pair.”
Not wanting to relinquish her hard-earned towel, Grandma Jo tucked it under her arm as she rushed to do his bidding. Returning to the bed, she quickly put them on Sami’s feet. The addition of the socks seemed to make Sami’s tremors worse instead of better. Worried, Grandma Jo turned to Mark.
Mark wanted to reassure her, but his concern at that moment was Sami. “It appears that she is fighting an internal battle, as if part o
f her is resisting being out of the cocoon of the hypnotic suggestion. Her symptoms are almost like a person in shock. I feel like tossing her into the shower and giving her the hot/cold water treatment. Yet, I do not feel that it would work. Besides, I don’t want to put her through another change of clothes experience.” He paused, considering the alternatives. He looked up at Grandma Jo. “Pass me the food, maybe it will warm her from the inside.”
Grandma Jo retrieved a mug of tea that she had brought with her moments earlier. Freeing his left arm by gently lowering Sami’s legs, Mark reached for the offered mug. He nodded his thanks and brought the mug close to Sami. “Sami?” he asked the shaking woman sitting on his lap. There was no response.
Sami’s head was buried in his chest. Mark glanced at the mug, then back at her. There is no way he could force her to drink. He didn’t have enough hands to hold her, and yet, position her mouth to accept the warming liquid. Thinking for a moment, he was debating whether to ask Grandma Jo to support her head. All he could envision, however, was spilling the contents all over himself and Sami. “This will not work,” he said resigned. He handed the mug back to Grandma Jo, and gathered Sami back into his arms.
