The Death Bed
“You know it’s polite to cover your mouth when you cough,” Hannah told the young boy in the overly polite, yet condescending tone of voice that grownups usually use when addressing other people’s children. The mother glared at Hannah and had her son trade seats with her.
“I didn’t mean anything by it,” Hannah said apologetically to the mother who was now right next to her. She spoke in a hushed voice so as not to draw any more attention from the entertainment starved faces that had again looked up from their newspapers, magazines, and coloring books to see what was going on.
The mother responded in a hushed voice but not nearly as quietly. “You don’t have to tell me how to raise my son. I’m used to everybody telling me what I should do, and how I should raise my child, but you’re a perfect stranger and I don’t have to take it from you.”
Hannah noticed the woman’s ragged clothes that, at one time, might have made her look dignified, but now showed obvious signs of wear. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it,” Hannah repeated and quickly found a magazine on the coffee table in front of them and buried her face in it. “What a psycho,” she thought as she opened the magazine to the article advertised on the cover. The mother seemed to know what Hannah was thinking, and returned the unspoken enmity. Hannah slightly angled her back so that it was turned toward the hostile mother and faced the handsome man in a suit and tie who was sitting on her left. He was reading the paper and didn’t seem to notice her any more than she seemed to be noticing him.
Time slowed to a crawl as it always did for Hannah in waiting rooms, and she found herself paying more attention to the sound of shuffling pages and people shifting in their chairs than to her magazine article. The mother’s cell phone rang and Hannah, like everyone else in the waiting room, buried her nose a little deeper into her magazine and opened her ears a little wider to hear the conversation.
It wasn’t that Hannah was interested in the personal life of the woman sitting next to her, but boredom made it too hard to resist the slightest curiosity, and she found herself captivated by what fragments of that monotonous conversation that she could hear. The first few minutes were composed of pointless drivel, but Hannah continued to listen intently. Then the woman’s voice became timid.
“But I’ll be able to pay it before the end of the month,” she insisted. “No I’ve just got a second job that’s going to pay nine dollars an hour . . . I started today and I’m going to get paid time and a half for working on Thursday . . . I know that’s Thanksgiving but I’ve got to pay the bills somehow . . . well what do you want me to do? . . . Look, I’m in the doctor’s office and don’t want to talk about this now; let me call you back . . . Okay, bye.
Out of her peripheral vision, Hannah noticed the woman looking around the room to make sure that everyone else had at least had the courtesy to keep their eyes turned away while they eavesdropped on her conversation. She must have been satisfied because she put the cell phone back in her purse and watched her son color a picture in a coloring book. Hannah had been so lost in her own world that she had completely forgotten that Thanksgiving was only a day away, and she made a mental note to go grocery shopping that afternoon. Peter’s brother, who she’d never learned to tolerate, was coming over with his new wife. They lived across town, but with work and everything else that sprang up to keep the family busy, they hardly ever saw each other.
Hannah couldn’t help thinking that it was stupid to have a holiday in which estranged relatives were forced to endure each other’s company for a weekend, and that everyone was expected to call it Thanksgiving. The Thanksgiving specials on all the sitcoms would show happy families who, despite the comedic problems and blowups that were sure to occur, loved each other and worked out all their problems by the end of their thirty minute timeslot.
“I’d like to see one of those shows portray a real family,” Hannah thought. “The kind that might have all the real problems in the world but where they never come to the surface and never get resolved. I’d like to see a show where nobody gets upset and yells but where they’re all depressed and angry and just swallow it down and pretend like everything’s fine.”
Hannah mused on the conundrum until the door opened, and her name was called. She set her magazine back on the coffee table and walked toward the door. The mother had noticed that Hannah had been called first, despite arriving in the waiting room after her. Hannah tried not to make eye contact with her as she followed the worker out of the waiting room and down the twisted hallway that led to another waiting room. She was alone in this one. The worker left right away, closing the door behind him. Hannah took a seat on the white paper that covered the cushioned table, and waited for the doctor.
* * *
Julia was sitting on the bed of Sara’s pickup in the school parking lot after rehearsal. The play had been one of her top priorities a few weeks ago, but had now been reduced to a rote part of her afternoon routine. The two girls drank cherry cokes, aware of the fact that it was the first time in a while that they had spent time together. Neither of them addressed the fact that they hadn’t exactly been on good terms, but were content with the fact that the undefined dispute seemed to be over.
Still, Julia found it awkward to be in such a familiar setting after everything that had changed since the last time she’d spent an evening enjoying the autumn breeze with her best friend. The memories snuck up on her and caught her off guard, something she hadn’t allowed them to do before, at least not in anyone else’s presence. She almost suppressed the symptoms of a person fighting back tears, but she could tell that Sara had noticed.
“Do you want to come with me this afternoon?” Sara asked.
Julia knew what the invitation entailed, and could tell that Sara didn’t know why she was inviting her to come along. Maybe it was because of a sermon about reaching out to friends, or because she’d seen the worn out Bible in her stack of books earlier that day. But maybe it was simply because she could see that Julia was scared, confused, repentant, and on the verge of tears, and she didn’t know what else to say or do.
Likewise, Julia didn’t know why she accepted the invitation. The past several weeks had, if anything, made her even more hardened to all of the farcical nonsense put out by religious institutions. But in that moment she had nowhere else to go, and didn’t want to be alone. So the invitation was given and accepted because neither of them could think of an alternative course of action. And silence predominated until two straws slurped up the last of the cherry cokes.
* * *
“I can’t believe that we still have to go to class on the Wednesday before Thanksgiving,” Jessica groaned over the phone. Thomas was pacing in his dorm with his cell phone pressed up against his ear. Rick was sitting at his desk putting the finishing touches on a paper.
“So are you still going to come over this morning so we can get some breakfast?” he asked.
“Of course, I’m on my way right now. Watch where you’re going!”
“What?” Thomas asked.
“Not you. Some guy just walked out right in front of me. I’ve gotta go but I’ll be up soon.”
Thomas started to say goodbye, but Jessica had already hung up the phone.
“Alright I’ll see you soon,” he said into the dead line to save face in front of his roommate.
“Do you have time to proofread this for me before I turn it in?” Rick asked. The printer on the desk began to screech.
“I don’t think so. Jessica’s going to be here soon. Besides, isn’t that for your freshman comp class?”
“Yeah,” Rick responded emphatically.
“Isn’t it at 8:30?”
“Yeah.”
“Well it’s about 8:12 right now so even if I did look over it you wouldn’t have time to make any changes before you had to leave.”
Rick didn’t respond, and the awkwardness was interrupted by Thomas’s cell phone.
“I’m downstairs,” said Jessica’s voice when he answered.
“Be r
ight there.”
Thomas walked down the hall and pushed the down button on the elevator. It took forever. When it finally came it was packed with smelly bodies that hadn’t woken up in time to shower before their 8:30 classes. Thomas squeezed in and endured the proximity as the elevator descended. When he got off Jessica was in the landing waiting for him. She was clean, well dressed, and had even found time to put on makeup. They let the mass of bodies filter out of the elevator and then got back on. Thomas complained about the schools escort policy as the elevator went back up.
“It’s just to keep strangers from wandering around in the dorms,” Jessica said in the school’s defense.
“No it’s not,” Thomas retorted, “because if it were then we’d have to escort guys who came up to visit us too. You know most schools are open minded enough to have guys and girls living on the same dorm floors, and here we’ve got a ton of ridiculous rules every time we have a girl come visit.”
The elevator dinged and the two stepped out onto Thomas’s floor.
“We get treated like little kids who can’t make their own decisions. We’re all adults and they have us monitored and supervised like six year olds.”
Thomas tried to ignore the guy down the hall wearing nothing but a towel. He was pulling at a doorknob and yelling at the person inside to let him in. He could hear laughter from inside the room and it spread down the hall as people found out what the commotion was about.
“I can’t wait until next year when I move into the fraternity house, and I can have some freedom and responsibility. In fact I’m going to ask my parents about renting a place off campus in the spring.”
As he and Jessica walked into the room, Rick was frantically shoving books and folders into his backpack.
“Hey Jessica,” he said, looking up from the mess of scattered books and papers on his desk. Thomas could tell that the friendliness in his roommate’s voice was as fake as the imitation cologne that he was using to cover up the fact that he hadn’t made time to shower.
“You late?” Jessica asked politely.
“Yeah, and I’ve got to turn in my research paper,” Rick said as he zipped up his backpack and slung it over one shoulder.
“Good luck.”
“Thanks, I’m kind of worried because I couldn’t get anyone to proofread it for me, and my professor is really hard on typos and that sort of thing.”
“Why couldn’t you look it over?” Jessica said accusingly to Thomas.
“He had other things to do,” Rick said, and disappeared out the door.
Jessica gave Thomas her most disapproving look.
“Can’t you see that he’s just being passive aggressive,” Thomas objected. “He’s trying to get you upset with me. By the time he asked me it was already . . .”
“Don’t bother with excuses, I’m sure you had your reasons,” Jessica said in such a way that Thomas knew that she was far from convinced of his innocence.
“He didn’t give me any forewarning or time. I didn’t do anything wrong,” Thomas insisted.
“That’s probably because you don’t believe in wrong anymore. By the way, I love the new Escher print you’ve got on the wall. It’s perfect for you with all the people walking up stairs in different directions because there is no up anymore. I mean who’s to say that up isn’t down or to the left?”
“Just because I can think outside standard conventions you think I’m a bad person! Am I a horrible person because I think that some things are relative and don’t see the purpose in wasting your day building a sand castle that’s just going to get washed away with the tide?”
“If that’s your attitude then what’s the point of being with me? Your philosophy looks fine on paper but let me tell you, it sucks in real life. So why don’t you try walking on some upside down stairs and see what really happens. I can tell you exactly what’ll happen because there’s an absolute called gravity. And because there’s an absolute I can tell you absolutely what’s going to happen. You’ll fall straight down and crack your head open and all your brains filled up with all that nonsense will come spilling out!”
Thomas didn’t know how to respond, but the hurt expression that overcame his face said enough.
“I’m sorry,” Jessica said after a moment of silence. Her voice was full of repentance, but Thomas didn’t care. “I shouldn’t have said that about your ideas. It just came out. I couldn’t sleep last night because I was thinking about . . .”
“I’m not hungry,” Thomas interrupted.
“I’m sorry.”
“I want you to go.”
Jessica started to protest but Thomas’s demeanor was firm. She walked into the hall unescorted and closed the door behind her, a violation of the dorm’s escort policy that neither of them seemed to notice or care about.
* * *
Julia followed as Sara turned into the parking lot. The shadow of the steepled building stretched across the sea of asphalt. Neither of them said anything as they got out of their vehicles and walked together across the parking lot and through the building’s enormous glass doors. They were almost identical to the doors at the nursing home, except larger, and were even equipped with a large blue button that handicapped people could use to have them open automatically. Julia half expected to be welcomed by the smell of decay as she followed Julia into the building. Instead, she was greeted by a man in his mid-twenties who wore a fake smile and a big nametag that had the word “Greeter” engraved on it.
“It’s to make people feel welcome,” Sara said, as if the man and his position needed to be explained.
“I know. They do the same thing at the nursing home and call her a receptionist,” Julia thought as she took in the crowd of people milling about the gymnasium. The room was filled with about thirty or forty high school and junior high kids. With the exception of the greeter and a few other adults, no one looked older than eighteen. Some played basketball while others sat and gossiped or played cards at tables that had been set up on the far side.
“Is something wrong?” Sara asked.
“It’s just not what I was expecting. I thought that there would be older people and that it would be, well, different,” Julia said still surveying the scene.
Julia continued to look around, unsure of what to make of her surroundings until she saw Jason in the group of guys playing basketball. Her heart sank. She wanted to turn around and leave, to be out of that place, that room, that atmosphere, but it was too late. She’d already been spotted and was shaking the hand of an enthusiastic girl who also appeared to be in her mid-twenties, and introduced herself only as Sara’s Bible study leader.
“So where are all the older people,” Julia asked. She refrained from saying adults to avoid offending the cheery woman who had just released her hand.
“They’re in the other wing,” the woman answered. “They built this wing a few years ago so they could separate the youth. We were too loud I guess.”
The woman disappeared among the sea of bodies, and Julia gave Sara a frantic glance as she tilted her head to the basketball court where Jason was playing. Sara gave her an apologetic look and shrugged her shoulders.
“You know we’ve been friends since we were kids,” she said.
“I just wasn’t thinking about him being here,” Julia admitted.
* * *
Lewis left school on Wednesday with the same somber attitude that he’d had on Monday and Tuesday. His feet drug along the ground as he walked over the playground grass. Tommy practically skipped alongside as they headed toward the parking lot where Peter was waiting to pick them up. Tommy Johnson, like almost everyone else leaving the elementary that day, was excited about the long weekend, but his enthusiasm did little to lift his friend’s spirits.
“I can’t believe that Summer was still at home sick,” Lewis said.
Lewis was experiencing a sort of self-centered empathy as if Summer’s suffering and his were inexorably linked.
“You’ll see her when we
come back from Thanksgiving,” Tommy said to console his friend, but made no effort to mask his own joy.
“You boys excited about the weekend?” Peter said enthusiastically when Lewis and Tommy got into the car.
“I’m going to Colorado!” Tommy exclaimed. “We’re going to stay up in the mountains and there’s gonna be snow and sledding.”
“We’d better get you home then so you can get going!” Peter said matching the boy’s enthusiasm.
* * *
“Do you really believe all that stuff about the earth being completely covered with water?” Julia asked when she and Sara had escaped the steepled building.
“Of course I believe it. There’s even archeological evidence. I saw a program on the history channel that talked all about it.” Sara answered without any hesitation or thought.
“It doesn’t make sense, logically. Wouldn’t the water all run off into the oceans before it could cover Mt. Everest? Maybe there actually was a big flood and the story just got exaggerated. There’s no way one man could have gathered up all the animals of the earth since different species live in different regions. Then there’s the whole thing with Moses and the sea opening up. All the other plagues are believable, except the river turning to blood, but there’s no way a wind could open up the sea like it says in the Bible, and if there was a wind so strong that it could push all that water out of the way, then the people wouldn’t be able to just walk through without being blown away too. And if the wind stopped blowing while they were walking through, then the water would have drowned them like it supposedly did to the Egyptians.”
“Well that’s how it happened. If it were believable it wouldn’t be a miracle, and if it weren’t miraculous there wouldn’t be much point in writing it down, or reading it, or believing in it,” Sara responded.
“And you believe all of it just because it’s printed there in black ink, without thinking or doubting or questioning any of it?” Julia asked.
“I guess,” Sara answered.
“I think you have to believe something with your head first,” Julia retorted. “If you don’t believe with your head then it’s impossible for you to really believe anything with your heart, and I can tell that you don’t believe with your head, because you’ve never actually stopped to think the whole story through.”