“Debbie, I need to check Mrs. Bartlett’s bandages, especially her face. That one needs to come off for good. Stitches need removing; it’s been ten days.”
“Yes, Doctor Simon.”
Bright light being pulled over my face. Warm and bright. Tilting my head and covering the side of my face with a cloth, now…pulling, yanking, hurts…
“Ah, Doctor Simon? Ah has some alcohol right heah if you’d like some. Ah mean no disrespect, but that theah tape gets real attached after ten days, an’ Miss Rhetta, well, the older ladies, their skin be like paper. Alcohol makes that there tape peel right off nice-like.”
“Rosie,” answered Debbie for the silent Dr. Simon, “what’s the difference? She can’t feel it.”
“But we s don’t know that, Miss Debbie. Not fer sure, now, do we?”
Now Dr. Simon interjected. “Rosie, would you get me a pair of gloves?”
“Grab me a pair, too.” said Debbie. Talking under her breath now, she added, “Normally I wouldn’t bother with an 80 year old woman, but she did, after all, get quite a few units from the general pool, if you know what I mean, Jane.”
“Exactly my thoughts, Deb.”
Pulling, pulling, my skin hurting… Why won’t they try that alcohol to loosen the tape?
“Oh shit. Sprang a leak. Her skin really is like tissue paper. Shit. Rosie? Where’s that alcohol?”
“Right heah, Doctor Simon. Alls ready to go.”
The smell of alcohol, then …Oh! How it stings! On the places they just opened up! But now the tape’s coming off easier. Why didn’t they just do this from the start?
I counted seventeen stitches. Now the spots she snipped itch a bit. Now betadine… Will it sting, too? No. Soothing. Oh, what a relief that’s over.
Light being shut off now. Cooler air returning. Maybe they’ll leave me in peace for a while.
“Debbie, let’s take a look at that stump while I’m here.”
“Yes, Doctor.”
Sheet being pulled back. No… I thought that might have been a bad dream… Please, God, let it be a dream I had.”
“She was lucky, Debbie. Clipped it a few inches below the knee. Perfect for a later fitting. You know… if she ever gets to that stage.”
Touching me there now… I feel like my leg is still there, my foot, too. Then it just feels tingly, like it did before. Picking my leg up… I can feel her hands on me, on the place, now something else. Someone’s touching my hair, stroking my hair. Now whispering…
“Ah, Miss Rhettta… It’ll be alright. You’ll see. God, He never give us anything we can’t handle. I sense you’ll be fine with this heah thing. You’ve seen tough days in your yeahrs; I’m certain. Miss Rhetta…”
Stroking my arm now… so gently…all I want to feel is her touch…
“Yes, a prosthetic leg will fit her nicely if she ever needs to walk again. How’s that car dealer workin’ out for you? Get the paperwork signed yet with his ex-to-be?”
“Not yet. That bitch is holding out just to break his balls. Bitch. Hell, she’s getting’ custody and the house and alimony; what’s her beef except to break ‘em, you know? But it doesn’t matter; he’s still swearing he’s taking me to Vegas next month. I just picked up a few great outfits for gambling, too. I’m like, so psyched to go!”
My leg being dropped back onto the mattress. I didn’t feel my foot hit, just my leg. It must be true. Oh, God, what will I do? And what happened to the young lady who ran into me? And she was probably looking behind her at her child… or children! I pray they weren’t too badly hurt! If only I could ask what happened to them…
The sounds of two pair of rubber gloves being pulled off, tossed onto the blanket on my legs, where they left the other stuff from the stitches.
“Rosie, be a sweetheart and get that for me? I have to go with Dr. Simon now.”
“Yes, Miss Debbie. You go. Ah’ll take good care in heahr.”
Footsteps leaving room. Fingers picking discarded gloves and suture kit off my legs and pushing into garbage can. Squirt bottle spraying something, then humming. Rosie’s humming another church song.
“Miss Rhetta, Ah see Mr. Larabee got up to go into his bathroom, sos I gotta scoot now… gotta get his bed changed quick. Once that man settles in there’s no budgin’ ‘im. But don’ you worry. Ah’lls be real close by.”
Footsteps leaving room. Many distant conversations, mostly TV game shows and commercials. Wheels going back and forth, the sound of clipboards being slid…or are those food trays? I guess I won’t be getting any food tray here. This tube in my nose must be my lunch.
Now I can hear Rosie’s humming again from across the hall, sort of an echo. Her voice is that of an angel. I wonder if she knows how sweet it sounds… She must. And the way she stroked my hair and arm… some man somewhere has a wonderful wife. I hope she married well, for love. Love is really everything. At least it was.
Funny, I’m trapped inside my own body, but it feels okay. I lost a leg yet it feels okay. All I can see is Rosie’s song. I want that song to be mine, so I’m going to try and sleep now, sleep into her song…
6
“I feel so foolish, driving past his house. And Marianne, I don’t even know if he lives at home! But what am I supposed to do? I’m certainly not going to call there. That would be so… inappropriate. Don’t you agree?”
“Yes! His parents would talk and it’d get around. Just be patient, Rhetta. Sooner of later he’ll show.”
“I actually saw his parents at the market the other day. I casually looked through their cart, trying to see if what they were buying would be more than what they’d eat alone, without him. But I couldn’t tell, got nervous, like they might notice this crazy girl following them around or something. So I took off.”
“Well, Rhetta, if you see them again, why not just ask them about him? It wouldn’t look too forward, not like you called there or anything.”
“I suppose I could. Maybe. I might, but I’ll probably chicken out.”
“You’ll see him again, Rhetta. I just know it.”
“All I can see is that smile of his. He melted me on the spot.”
“Just keep telling yourself he was the one who approached you, so there must have been something about you he liked, too.”
“My father lets me take the car out after dinner. Maybe tonight I’ll go by again. Sooner or later, like you said, right?”
“Call me, later on. Tell me if you see him.”
“Will do, Marianne. Bye.”
After dinner…
“I’ll be back soon, Dad. You know I just like to ride around, showing our new car off. I’ll be super careful. Promise.”
Pulling out of the driveway…
Oh my God! Was that him? On my street? I’m following. I don’t care if he sees me.
He’s pulling into that gas station. I’ll pull in, too. What could he say? Everyone needs to buy gas, right? No one else is here, great. I’ll pull up to the other side of the pumps…
“Rhetta? Rhetta Sweeney? Is that you? It’s me, Mike Strathmore, from last week’s competition? Remember?”
“Oh, uh, yea, yes, I remember… Mike. How are you?”
“No,