Part 9 (1/2)
”b.i.t.c.h,” echoed Annabel.
Everyone smiled as the Wanderer handed over Lorraine's phone.
DOING MORE TIME.
At Tuesday's News & Views, Annabel reported, people talked about Big Man biting an orderly. ”We didn't even open the Province.”
A doctor visited Lorraine.
After supper a bat landed on 17-A's windowsill. Flapping towels, Annabel and Angelique rushed about till the creature swooped away.
”Close window.”
”Stupid!” Sally cried. ”By morning there's no air left.”
”No oxygen,” said Annabel.
”You studied chemistry?”
Angelique rolled her eyes.
Drinking water, Lorraine felt dry as drought.
Josie came by. ”Little treat, girls!” Twinkies.
Sally ate them all, left the wrappers on her table and limped to the sink to splash hands and hot face.
”You've spilled, I'll skid!”
”Then skedaddle to your d.a.m.n friends, Annabel.” Sally grabbed paper towels.
”At least I have friends. And family, Mrs. Knox.”
”Eric is a r.e.t.a.r.d, Eric is a r.e.t.a.r.d!”
”Fatty fatty two-by-four!”
Wads of wet towel flew, Lorraine sobbed, the Boss Lady entered.
”Quiet time, ladies?” She scanned the room. ”Mrs. Knox, obesity shortens lives. Try to control yourself. That cellphone's back? No one told me.”
After she left, a whiff of skunk remained in the air of 17-A.
WEDNESDAY.
Midnight showers had suppressed the dumpsters' fermenting odour, but it rose again with the sun. The crows didn't attend Crafts to explore playdough's tactile pleasures, nor squeeze remotes with bleeding claws. They strutted about squawking while the rats and their babies snoozed in the warm dark rimmed with gold. Yearling gulls chased an eagle until, bored, it soared so its pursuers heeled away down the air.
Sally grumped, ”Can't the b.l.o.o.d.y Wanderer get on with it?”
In the elevator, the Boss Lady lectured Annabel. The resident crossed her eyes.
Lorraine received from the Wanderer an Ambrosia apple and a photo of a willow-edged river curving away. At bedtime, a nurse checked her vitals. Her roommates didn't let their eyes meet.
THURSDAY, FLOWER-ARRANGING.
Muggy. Rain forecast.
Lorraine lay on a gurney by 17-A's door, helpless before a doctor's order for a bedsore treatment over in the hospital.
Annabel stroked her roommate's hand.
Sally adjusted her walker. Too high. Too low.
”f.u.c.k!” she shouted.
As if signalled, the TV in 17-B burst out In the criminal justice system, the volume rising to a bellow for police, who investigate crime. The Wanderer exited, holding a flag. Snapping it downward, she raced for the nurses' station.
Lily ran towards the roaring These are their stories, but Lorraine extended one arm off the gurney. She got the aide across the diaphragm.
Winded, Lily fell.
Sally threw herself upon her walker so it and she collapsed, then screamed.
Officer down! Teevee-gal laughed. Her rictus turned to hiccups as she handed the remote to Annabel. Bang bang, gunshots. Two dead here.
Annabel scooted to the linens while aides, LPNs, even a nurse responded to Sally's cries.
Lorraine sobbed. Her arm drooped from the gurney.
Just a kid, roared Jerry Orbach.
A black kid way out of his neighbourhood, Chris Noth sneered. Of course he had to die.
To the staff crowded into 17-B, Orbach blared Where's justice?
”Look, Teevee-gal's laughing!”
”Who knew she could?”
A shout, ”You won't tell where it is, will you? You bad girl,” laughing.
”Very bad!” Pats on the tattered fingertips.
In the hall, an LPN bent to Lorraine. The Boss Lady glanced their way but stalked on into 17-B, grasped the TV's cord, traced it to the outlet, pulled.
Silence.
”No one thought of that?”
Hiccups racked Teevee-gal.