Plain Wrong

by Samantha Price

  “Judith was just one of many patients we’ve lost unexpectedly. Loosing someone battling an illness is awful enough, but when it’s someone here for something routine, it’s heartbreaking.”

  “These other patients,” Ettie began, keeping an unemotional tone to her voice, “How did they die? Was the manner similar to the way Judith died?”

  “I couldn’t say for sure. All of them were found silent in their beds come morning, and I know that their deaths were unexpected.”

  Ettie leaned back into her pillows; sitting straight was too much effort. Even speaking was an effort, but Ettie forced herself. “Judith’s family will no doubt have a post-mortem to discover why she died.”

  “The other families didn’t. It’s not a common thing to do around here. I mean, with the deaths I just mentioned, not one of their families wanted a post-mortem.” As if she realized she had said too much the nurse stood up and said, “Maybe, Judith’s family will. Now, how much water have you drunk today so far? You don’t want to have another drip, do you?”

  “I certainly don’t.” Ettie was badly dehydrated when she came into the hospital and was on a drip for the first two days. “Elsa-May filled up the jug this morning.”

  The nurse looked at the transparent jug. “Good, you’ve had about two glasses today then?”

  “That would be about right,” Ettie said.

  “And you’ve taken your morning tablet?”

  “Yes, this morning when they brought them ‘round.”

  “Very good. I better go.” The nurse smiled at Ettie and then left.

  Giving a slight nod in response, Ettie watched the nurse walk out the door.

  Feeling tired, Ettie closed her eyes and made an effort to recall all that the young nurse said, so she could piece things together. The young nurse said that there were other unexpected deaths. The families did not ask for post-mortems. Or if they had wanted one for some reason they did not get one. Might someone in the hospital have talked them out of it? Ettie tried to remember what the nurse, Melanie McBride said, but she could not stay awake.

  Chapter 3.

  And this is the condemnation,

  that light is come into the world,

  and men loved darkness rather than light,

  because their deeds were evil.

  John 3:19

  Elsa-May had taken a while to return and now that Ettie had woken from her nap, she was worried about her. She got out of bed and shuffled to the chair by the window. The sky was bright blue and tall tree branches swayed to and fro in a soft breeze. It was a glorious, sunny day, and she was stuck in the hospital determined to find out why Judith suddenly died. Her attention was taken by two crows fighting over a piece of bread on the green grass of the hospital grounds. Sighing, she said to herself, "That my days were so simple."

  "Ach." A voice startled Ettie. She spun around to find Maureen, one of her younger widow friends.

  Maureen walked further into Ettie’s hospital room carrying two cups of tea and a white cardboard cake box. "You're still worrying about Judith I see? I’ve just seen Elsa-May, and she told me all about your friend.” She held up the cake box. “Here, I bring sweet distractions. Eat them quick before the doctor comes and snatches them from under our noses."

  Seeing Maureen’s smile brought comfort to Ettie. "You gave me a start. You’ve seen Elsa-May then?”

  “I passed her in the cafeteria. She told me what happened and said to tell you that she’ll be up shortly.” After Maureen gave her the tea, she spread a napkin on the windowsill and on it she placed a large custard slice.

  Maureen bent down to kiss Ettie on her cheek before settling into the chair next to her with a large cream, chocolate cake decorated with strawberries slices. "Did you get any sleep at all, Ettie?" Maureen took a large bite of cake while she waited for an answer.

  "I did last night, but I have no idea how I’ll sleep tonight. Sleeping with one eye open is what I’ll likely do. That is, if I don’t want to end up like Judith." Ettie bit into the custard slice, and although it tasted as divine as always, the urge to devour it didn't come. She rested it back on the sill while she chewed slowly as though it were raw dough. "Thanks for this," she said after she'd washed it down with a mouthful of hot tea. The mug felt comfortable between her palms, the warmth traveled up her arms and made her tingle. But not even tea could ease her mind after what happened to Judith.

  "It's only tea and cake," Maureen said, still chewing the last of her mouthful. "I would like to do more, like care for you at home. I don’t like you being here, now more than ever with what happened to your friend. Elsa-May said you’re insisting on staying as long as possible.”

  "I must find out what’s happening. I just had a disturbing talk with a young nurse. There’s something going on; I can feel it. Anyway, you have your job; you can’t look after me.”

  “I can take time off; it’s just a part time job.”

  “Jah, and one that I know you need.” Ettie reached to rest her hand on the back of Maureen's. "You can help me with something though. I've had an idea."

  "What is it? I'll help if I can."

  "I know." Elsa retrieved her hand and leaned forward. Lowering her voice, she said, "Now, hear me fully before you say anything.”

  "Okay, what is it? You have me intrigued." Maureen rested her cup on the floor by her feet. And, following Ettie's lead, she leaned closer to her. "Well?"

  "What do you think about going to see our mutual friend to get information about this hospital?”

  "Detective Crowley?”

  Ettie nodded with a twinkle in her eye.

  “What kind of information do you think he’ll be able to get?" Maureen asked.

  "Of that, I’m not certain. See if he can find anything about unexplained deaths here. How many unusual deaths or reports have been made against this place or against any of the staff? I don't know; anything he can tell you. Let him know what happened and of my suspicions.”

  “Okay. I can do that.”

  Ettie breathed deeply and wished the act of speaking did not wear her out so. “He'll be able to access all sorts of information.” Ettie took another deep breath. “He's exactly the person we need to get to the bottom of everything."

  "Ach, Ettie, we couldn't get him involved, could we? He's probably not allowed to investigate places like this on a whim. It most likely has to be official, don't you think? And, well, this isn't."

  Ettie gave a quick, disgusted snort. "Isn't what?"

  "Official. It's not official."

  "Someone died." Ettie looked out the window, remembering how Judith loved to watch people feed the magnificent black crows. "How official does it need to be?"

  "Yes, but officially, she died within the law. Surely there's no case for this hospital and its staff to answer. All we have are two old ladies who think a midnight injection, and a morning death could be related. No sensible representative of the law would get involved with that."

  "First, please refrain from describing me and Elsa-May as old. Awful! Second, I’ve talked to a nurse who also thinks that something is wrong.”

  Maureen raised her eyebrows. “She said that?”

  “As good as said that. Anyway, law enforcers should want to be involved with all possibilities of wrongdoing. It's their job, their vocation.” After a pause Ettie added, “We need Crowley to investigate any complaints filed against this place. See if there's a pattern of unusual deaths or unexpected deaths; then we'll have something to back up our suspicions. Or we might find something to make the case official."

  Maureen went to take another bight of cake, looked at it, and retrieved her cup of tea from the floor instead. "Well, we can try. I work today, so I’ll go and see Crowley when I finish.”

  "Excellent; denke, Maureen. I was already suspicious, but even more so after my conversation with the young nurse.” Ettie repeated all that the nurse had said, so Maureen could relay it to detective Crowley.

  “You should have someone stay with
you tonight, Ettie. Maybe someone who could stay awake all night? I’d do it, but after work I can’t help but sleep solidly.”

  Ettie pushed her lips out and looked into the distance. “I’ll see if Bailey can stay.”

  “Jah,” Maureen said. “That would make me feel better.”

  Chapter 4.

  In all your ways acknowledge him,

  and he will make your paths straight.

  Proverbs 3:6

  An older nurse came into Ettie’s room and looked around. Nurse Bush was a stern, no-nonsense woman who rarely smiled.

  “Can I help you?” Ettie asked due to the vague look on her face.

  “I was just seeing if Mrs. Morcombe’s son had been here yet.”

  “Judith’s son?”

  “Yes. He’s coming to collect his mother’s things. They're all in that box over there." She pointed to the far corner, by Judith's bare bed. Nurse Bush walked close to Ettie. "Do you need help washing and dressing before I go?"

  Shaking her head, Ettie said, “My sister is helping me wash later.”

  The nurse nodded, and her face remained sullen.

  Ettie thought it strange that Judith’s son would be sent to the room where his mother had died. Why wouldn’t they have left her things at the reception desk for him?

  After the nurse left, panic churned Ettie’s stomach. She shuffled around the room waiting for Judith's son to arrive. Chances were the hospital stole his mother's final years. Should she share her unsubstantiated suspicions with him, or would that be insensitive of his bereavement?

  Oh wait; there might be an autopsy. It's an unexpected and sudden death; officials must need answers. Lost in her thoughts, Ettie jumped in fright when Elsa-May walked through the door. “Elsa-May, you’ve been gone for quite some time.”

  “Ettie, I told you I was going to find some breakfast. I left early this morning without eating. You know I get faint if I don’t eat often.” Elsa-May’s eyes were drawn to the cakes and slices that Maureen had brought. “I see Maureen’s been here.”

  “Jah, she said you told her what happened to Judith. Before Maureen came, I talked to nurse McBride. Nurse McBride told me that there have been a few unexpected deaths. Anyway, Maureen is going to Detective Crowley, and she’ll tell him about Judith and what nurse McBride told me.” Ettie told her schweschder the information that nurse McBride gave her.

  “Gut. Now, what are you doing out of bed?”

  “The doctor said I should walk around a little. I need to work my lungs – get some air into them.”

  Once Ettie got back into bed Elsa-May sat next to her and said, “Excellent idea about Crowley. If anyone can help us it’ll be he, with Gott’s help.”

  A raised voice in the corridor caused the two to stop talking. They listened to the words spoken by an unfamiliar male voice. From what they overheard, Ettie knew that it was Judith’s son. Ettie and Elsa-May watched him as he strode into the room.

  Looking toward them both, his features softened. “Sorry for all that commotion. I did not mean to disturb you. I’m just upset about my mother. I’ve come to collect her belongings. Is it okay for me to come in?"

  "Oh, yes. Please do. I’ve seen you visiting your mother, but we were never introduced. Come, come." Ettie encouraged him in, relieved, and intrigued to see what he'd been told about his mother's death. “I’m Ettie and this is my sister, Elsa-May.”

  Judith's son nodded hello to both ladies and crept in meekly, perhaps dreading the task ahead. “I’m Milton Morcombe.”

  Ettie knew that gathering a parent’s possessions after their death was not an easy task.

  “Every child ends up doing this at some point, I guess. It's tragic, but far less so that the other way around. I'm not disturbing you, am I? Mother talked so fondly of you when I visited here yesterday, Ettie. I hope this isn't too upsetting for you."

  “Death is a part of life especially at my age; my life revolves around funerals of my friends. But yes, they're all upsetting, of course, they are. I’m sorry for your loss. I got to know your mother a little; we had many good conversations. My comfort is that all my friends have gone to their true home to be with God.”

  The man frowned then looked at Elsa-May in her Amish clothes and nodded. “Yes. That’s right.”

  “One of the nurses packed her things in that box over there." Ettie pointed to the table by his mother's bed. "Ready to go."

  "Oh." He looked a little disappointed. Both ladies watched as he looked in some drawers of the chest near Judith’s bed. He looked up at them. “Just seeing if they missed anything. I'll be out of your way then."

  Ettie wondered whether he wanted to stay a while, to feel close to his mother perhaps. "You would be doing me an honor if you sat with us and drank a cup of tea."

  His face lit up. "Yes, that would be nice. I know there’s tea in the visitors’ room. I’ll be right back."

  Once he returned with their tea, he sat on his mother’s bed and peered around the room, no doubt thinking about what his mother had seen leading up to her death. “I just don’t understand it; she only came to the hospital to have them keep an eye on her blood pressure. We had no idea there was anything wrong with her; anything that would cause her death.” His voice lowered when he continued, “I arrived to take her home today. They stopped me in the ward just as I was about to come into this room. They sent me to talk to someone; I knew then that there was something wrong.”

  “It must have come as a shock,” Elsa-May said.

  Milton hung his head in silence.

  “Were you advised what the cause might have been?” Ettie asked, hoping she wasn’t being too nosey.

  He took a deep breath, but his shoulders were still low. “No, I guess these things happen.” Appearing to have become more tired in the few minutes that had passed since his entrance, Milton moved off the bed then sat on the chair between the two beds.

  Ettie had to ask, and there was no smooth lead into such a question, "Are you waiting for the autopsy, you know, before the funeral?"

  “No,” he replied immediately. “I don’t think I want one done. It won’t bring her back. I had a talk to one of the nurses, and she said that there was no value in one of those under the circumstances. And well, it wouldn't bring her back."

  Ettie frowned. "Oh, but isn't it normal for unexpected deaths to be investigated?"

  "Unexpected? She was just old; it happens to us all. It was unexpected in the sense that they told me she could go home, but I guess it wasn’t meant to be. It was her time – and all that."

  Ettie wanted to shake the poor bereaved man, but the weary look in his eyes told her not to double the weight of his loss. "When will the funeral be? I would like to pay my respects if I’m out of here by then.”

  "Haven't fixed a date just yet, but it'll be next week sometime. My brother lives far away, and I’ll need to wait for him. I'll let you know.” He finished off his tea and smiled, but Ettie noticed that it didn't reach his eyes.

  "Oh good." There's still time for the autopsy if I convince the police there's cause to have one. I need more evidence, Ettie thought. "I'll get my sister to take me to the funeral. If I’m not out of hospital, they might not mind me going out for an hour.” Especially if they don’t know, Ettie thought.

  “She was a good mother,” Milton said. “Probably the best mother anyone could ever have had.” He looked up at Elsa-May and Ettie. “Do you ladies have children?”

  Ettie smiled. “We have children and grandchildren. Elsa-May has great grandchildren.”

  Milton looked away from them and blinked back tears. “I never told her how much I appreciated everything she ever did for me.”

  “Sometimes things like that are understood and never need to be said. Your mother would have known what you thought of her,” Elsa-May said.

  Milton looked across at Elsa-May. “Do you think so?”

  She nodded. “Mothers know. We know we might be taken for granted and expected to do things for them, but w
e know we’re loved and appreciated. No words need be exchanged.”

  Milton looked away. “Thank you. I hope she knew.” After a moment, he rested his cup on the bedside table, grabbed the small box of his mother's belongings, and walked to the door. "It was nice talking to the two of you. And Ettie, I'm glad she shared a room with you before she passed."

  "Me too, Milton."

  “I hope you get well soon.” Offering a weak smile at both ladies, Judith’s son left the room, clutching his mother’s belongings under his arm.

  Chapter 5.

  And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes;

  and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow,

  nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain:

  for the former things are passed away.

  Revelation 21:4

  That night, Bailey stayed with Ettie. He slept the night in the chair next to the bed despite three nurses insisting visitors’ time was over. Bailey said he was not a visitor, and he was going to stay.

  The first thing that Ettie said on waking was, “Bailey, Maureen said she was going to talk to Crowley yesterday, and I haven’t seen her. I thought Crowley would have been in to see me too.”

  “Will you be all right if I go and see Crowley now? Maybe Maureen hasn’t been yet.”

  “Jah, you go; I’ll be okay. Maureen did say she’d see him straight after work.”

  Ettie wrestled with herself whether she should have told Bailey anything at all. She wanted to keep Bailey out of investigations given his breakdown after leaving the FBI. She was anxious to find out about the hospital, but hoped she would not be the next to receive a deadly injection. If there was one thing Ettie disliked it was feeling vulnerable, as she did now.

  When nurse McBride came into the room, Bailey said goodbye to his aunt.

  Ettie took the opportunity of being alone with Melanie McBride to do some more investigating.

  "Morning, Ettie."