Rose & Other Stories

collapsed into the arms of the orderlies, who dragged him away to the ward for dangerous patients. Director Robertson was bent over, trying to get his breath back.

  “Come sit down,” Dr. Fenton guided him to the chair. Director Robertson sat down and Dr. Fenton got the nurse to call for help.

  June 25, 2012

  “What did you find out?” Mr. Masters asked the man who had just entered his office.

  “Dr. Radburn went nuts and attacked the chairman of the board of directors for the mental hospital,” The man answered, “Dr. Radburn has become a patient of the mental hospital for an indefinite period of time. Mina Tate has disappeared, if she was ever there. Both are lost to us.”

  Mr. Masters was silent. The man left the office to avoid the fury he could feel building. He barely got the door closed before the loud crashes came from inside.

  Dr. Fenton was near the reception desk, signing for a package of Seraton when Finn came in, followed by Dr. Gar. They had both arrived at the same time, but obviously didn’t know each other. Finn went to Rose, who was sitting on the couch in the waiting room, waiting for him, and Dr. Gar came to the reception desk.

  Rose got to her feet as Finn approached. They hugged in greeting. Dr. Gar reached the desk and turned to see what Dr. Fenton was staring at. He saw the kiss. Then Finn and Rose turned to leave. Rose turned back.

  “Thank you,” Rose said.

  “You’re welcome,” Dr. Fenton replied. Rose smiled before turning back around. She and Finn walked out arm in arm.

  “What was that about?” Dr. Gar asked.

  “Ten thousand dollars and a deal I wouldn’t have turned down for anything,” Dr. Fenton answered with a smile, “Come on, I’ll give you a tour.”

  Dr. Gar glanced after Finn and Rose before following Dr. Fenton into the mental hospital.

  Mothers Don't Get Medals

  by Rosalyn Marie Francis

  “I need you to sign this.” Her seventeen year old son, Landon, shoves papers under Janice Keller's nose. Janice reaches out to hold them still so she can read them.

  “What are they?” She reads the top line before turning to stare at her son, “No.”

  “Come on, Laura is already at the military academy. How can you object?”

  “You have been accepted to Julliard in the fall. I am not letting you throw away the chance of a lifetime to enlist in the army.”

  “Music is a waste of time, Mom. Going and helping Dad would be a better use of my life.”

  “Your Dad and I agreed. Your sister is following her interests and getting the education she needs to reach goals we have agreed are right for her. You have musical talent. You have spent years practicing and years studying. You will not give it up because of one old man's teasing.”

  “This isn't about Jack!”

  “I have to go to work. I will not sign this.” Janice drops the papers on the counter.

  “Dad would sign it.” Landon threatens.

  “If you can find your father, then ask him.” Janice grabs her purse and heads out the door to the base library. She stops and takes a deep breath before heading to the children's department to help young patrons. The morning starts slowly with a storytelling session. It is once the children disperse to find books that she sees the uniformed men waiting for her. She sighs.

  “Mrs. Keller, your son, Landon, asked us to speak to you on his behalf.” The first man starts.

  “Major, my son has been accepted at one of the best schools in the country for musical study. This morning, without any prior warning, he shoves enlistment papers under my nose and demands I sign them. I will not.”

  “Another few months and your signature will not be required.”

  “Then he, and you, will just have to wait.”

  “Are you anti-American, Mrs. Keller?” The other man asks.

  “I am fourth generation American army. My great-grandfathers, grandfathers on both sides of the family, father, uncles, aunts, and cousins were or are career soldiers for this country. My husband is off in a combat zone somewhere right at this minute and my daughter is in military academy preparing to join the army. My son is a musician. One old man teases him about not having the courage to die for his country and all the work he has done so he can develop his talent goes right out the window. Not on my signature.”

  “It is your son's wish.”

  “Last month I drove my son across three states so he could compete in a classical piano competition. That was his twentieth competition in the last year. He has practiced every day since he was four. Now all of a sudden he wants to toss it all away for boot camp. No, he will regret not taking up a four year scholarship to Julliard for the rest of his life. I will not be responsible for letting that happen!” Janice notices people staring and drops her voice. “I cannot in good conscience sign that. Now, if you do not mind, I have a job to do.”

  The men frown as Janice walks away.

  That night, Janice walks into the small on-base house that she has lived in since her husband took the job in covert operations five years previously. The sound of loud classical music pours from the baby grand piano in the living room. Janice goes to the kitchen to prepare supper.

  The music stops and Landon comes to lean in the doorway. “Do you have the entrance fees for the competition next month?”

  “Yes, if you still want to compete.”

  “Of course I want to compete.” Landon frowns at her.

  “Then I will send in the forms.” Janice starts to slice onion.

  “Do you have Dad's address?”

  “Just send it to his box and the army will forward it.” Janice answers.

  “Are you still together? I mean it's been over three years since he spent the night here.”

  Janice tries to think back to the last time her husband had written or called. “He said he had to go deep undercover and I should wait for him to call. Your father will call when he can.”

  “If I join the army, I can stick around.”

  “We both know having family nearby is not one of the factors that the army uses when it decides where to deploy people. First there will be boot camp and then postings all over the world. Your father negotiated this place for us when he took this post because he would not be in any one place for long and we could not be with him. He wanted to give us some stability.”

  Landon frowns. “He could be dead and they wouldn't tell us.”

  “Yes, they would. We would be served with an eviction notice as soon as they had confirmation. He's still alive and out there.” Janice answers. “Send him a letter. Just don't be surprised if it takes a while to get an answer.”

  “Mom, sign the papers.”

  “No.” Janice shakes her head. “This is one thing you are going to have to do on your own.”

  “I will get Dad to sign them. He will let me.”

  Janice just continues to work on cooking supper and Landon slaps the wall. “Sign it!”

  “If I sign it then I cannot put you in the competition. They will ship you off to boot camp and a thousand dollars will go to waste. Which do you want Landon, music or army?”

  “That's not fair.”

  “I have spent thousands of dollars on lessons, pianos, and competitions and you want to go stand in front of bullets. What's fair about that?” Janice drops her knife and shifts her fists to either side of her waist.

  “You don't understand!”

  “Neither do you. And when you do it will be too late for anything but regrets.” Janice picks up the knife and continues to chop onions. She moves on to green pepper.

  “Julliard is what you want Mom. It is not what I want.” Landon flings the words at her.

  Janice turns to the ground beef frying in the pan and adds the vegetables. “If army life is what you want then you are going to have to make it happen without me.”

  “How am I supposed to do that?”

  “That is for you to figure out. Supper will be in an hour.”

  Landon goes back t
o the living room and takes his anger and frustration out on the piano.

  Janice writes out the check and sends off the entry form the next day. She works and comes home to loud music. She goes out to a support group for army wives, but as the most experienced wife in the group, she answers questions instead of asking them. She goes home feeling hollow.

  Landon comes to the table and sits down at his plate. “There's a boot camp starting in three weeks.”

  “Boot camp has been starting every few months for years and there will be another one in four years if you still think you want to be cannon fodder.”

  “That's hypocritical. Dad's army. Laura's going to be.”

  Janice runs the tines of her fork through the rice and chicken mixture in front of her. “Laura did not head straight to boot camp without finishing high school. She chose a field of interest and is studying hard. Her interest is one most used by the military so it makes sense for her to join up when she is done. Your father was drifting and needed the discipline that the army trained into him. Even he would tell you that he went at his career backwards. Neither of them were seventeen. Neither of them are ditching a promising talent to be a private.”

  Landon frowns and shoves his fork into the food to bring it to his mouth. He finishes his meal in silence before returning to pound out his emotions on the piano. Janice cleans the kitchen. Just as she is finishing, there is a knock at the kitchen door.

  Janice looks out the window before going to the door. She opens, steps through, and closes the door at her back. “Go away. You are not welcome here, Jack.”

  “I saved Mike's life.”

  “That's no excuse for what you are doing to Landon. You can come back to visit when Mike gets back. Until then you stay away from my home and my son.”

  “You're babying that boy. In the end he will hate you for it.”

  “And you are making certain of it. You come around again and I will call the MPs.” Janice tells him. “I believe there are still a few outstanding warrants.”

  The older man goes white. “You bitch!”

  “You have two seconds to be gone or I will go to the colonel and point out your record.” Janice does not blink until the older man is limping away. She goes back into the house and closes the door softly. Luckily, Landon's music is too loud for him to have heard anything.

  Janice rolls over for hours before she gets up and turns on the light in her room. She gets out her special stationary, slightly perfumed and watermarked with light pink roses. She writes her husband of twenty-two years.

  Dear Mike,

  Jack Fraser has convinced Landon that the only way our son's life counts for something is if he joins the army to help you. I have sent Jack away, but Landon is pressing me to sign his enlistment papers and calling me a hypocrite for not signing. He's even started questioning our marriage in the light of your long absence.

  If you could call him, write him, or somehow convince him that going to Julliard isn't unpatriotic. Mothers seem to lose their son's respect after a certain age and I would be grateful for any support you can give me.

  Janice.

  P.S. I love and miss you.

  Janice seals the envelope and addresses it to her husband's post office box. She tucks it into the mail box on her way to work the next morning.

  The children are noisy and disruptive during story time, a mother yells at Janice over the choice of book her eight-year old daughter picks out, and her immediate supervisor criticizes her in front of a patron.

  Landon is playing one of his own loud creations when she arrives home. Janice goes into the kitchen, but her pounding head makes her too woozy to cook. She sits down with her head on her arms.

  That is the way Landon finds her an hour later. “Where's supper?”

  Janice manages to raise her head to look at her son before putting it gently back down. “I will get to it when I feel better.”

  “It's seven o'clock.”

  “I have a headache. You are going to have to make it for yourself.” Janice massages the back of her neck. “There are leftovers from the spaghetti sauce the other night. I am going to bed.”

  She stands up very carefully and holds on to the walls on her way to her bedroom. She lies down without getting undressed and without turning on the light.

  “Mom, are you drunk?” Landon asks.

  Janice does not answer with a fervent hope that he will just go away. After a moment of silence, he pulls the door closed and goes.

  “Mom, wake up.”

  Janice opens her eyes just a crack. “What?”

  “I made supper. You need to eat something.” Landon tells her.

  “I don't think I can handle spaghetti sauce.” Janice mumbles.

  “I made some chicken soup.” Landon says. “Well, heated it from a can, really.”

  “I don't feel like getting up.” Janice starts to shake her head, then moans.

  “I have a tray, if you could just sit up.”

  Making the effort costs Janice strength, but she manages to sit against the headboard. Landon sets the tray carefully over her lap. “I added two aspirin and a glass of water.”

  Bring careful not to knock anything over, Janice starts with the painkillers and then notes the rest of the meal. “Thank you, Landon.” She sips the soup slowly, testing her stomach's capacity to handle liquid.

  “You could have come told me that you were sick. I could have played softer.”

  “You need to practice for the concert.” Janice takes another sip of soup. “I just had a bad day at work.”

  Landon frowns. “Is the concert that important if I am just going to join up?”

  “I know you are tired of playing other people's works. It takes a lot of discipline and creativity to try to play the same pieces everyone else is playing and somehow make them stand out in the judge's minds. Think of it as getting ready for being a soldier where discipline is paramount.”

  “Was it really just a bad day at work?”

  Janice tries to nod but ends up giving a stiff from the waist movement to stave off the pain in her neck and head. “Thank you for the soup. I need to get ready for bed.”

  Lifting the tray away, Landon says good night and leaves.

  A lingering pain in her head puts Janice on edge as she goes into work the next morning. She takes a deep breath when Johnny Green acts up during story time and listens carefully to all the problems with children's choices for take home books. The last of the pain is almost gone when Janice gets a message to report to the base commander’s office.

  “Mrs. Keller?” The politely correct young man behind the desk asks.

  “I am Mrs. Janice Keller.” Janice answers.

  “We have had complaints from your neighbours of noise from your house.”

  “My son plays the piano quite loudly sometimes.”

  “These are reports of loud voices and fights.”

  Janice frowns. “When?”

  “Last night.”

  “Last night I had a splitting headache. I spent the evening in a darkened room and never spoke above a whisper. I do not know who filed this complaint, but they were either mistaken in the location or malicious.” Janice answers.

  “We understand you are at odds with your son.”

  “I am not in the habit of raising my voice to Landon. Last night he made chicken soup for my supper after he realized I was ill. There was no yelling on either side.”

  “You are denying the allegation.”

  “You can send patrols past my house on a regular basis if you wish. My son plays the piano and sometimes it gets rather loud, especially if he is unhappy as he has been over my refusal to sign his enlistment papers.”

  “You don't want your son in the army.”

  “I do not want my son, who is a classical pianist, to dump a scholarship in one of America's most prestigious schools and quit high school short of graduation to join up. My daughter already has her heart set on becoming an officer. One of them in the arm
ed forces should be enough.”

  The man almost cracks a smile. “I can see your point.”

  “As far as the neighbours, I do not know what set them off.”

  The man nods. “Probably the piano.”

  Janice frowns.

  Landon has supper ready when Janice gets home. “How lovely, thank you.” She kisses his cheek.

  The teen blushes. “I hope you're feeling better.”

  “I am.” Janice sits down. “Landon, have you been having trouble with anyone at school?”

  “Not more than usual.”

  “Usual?”

  “There's a guitar player who thinks he's so cool and he wants me to join his band. He does drugs. I avoid him whenever I can. Why?”

  “Someone reported yelling and fighting going on at this house last night.” Janice frowns.

  “Nothing like that happened.”

  “We both know it.” Janice pauses. “I just wondered if it was malicious and directed at you.”

  “Not that I know.” Landon shakes his head.

  “Then I do not know what it is about.” Janice eats her supper.

  “Is it all right if I practice? You still look a little pale. Maybe I should do dishes.”

  “Go ahead. I am going into my room to read after I do the dishes. The library had a new book by one of my favourite authors on the three day loan rack.”

  “Thanks. You sure you want to do the dishes?”

  “Let me do them as a thank you for a meal I did not have to cook.” Janice answers. “You need your practice time.”

  Landon gets up and goes to the living room while Janice does the dishes and goes to read in her room.

  Landon comes to the library one afternoon later that week. “Mom, I have been offered a gig playing in the officer’s lounge. The colonel is apparently a classical music fan.”

  Janice pauses. “How will this affect your practice sessions?”

  “I can practice and get paid for it at the same time.” Landon almost vibrates with energy.

  “It sounds too good to pass up,” Janice smiles. “What kind of hours?”

  “Five to ten, Wednesday to Sunday. Early enough I can still get up and get to school on time.”

  “Okay.” Janice nods. “You can take it if you keep up with your homework.”

  “I will.” Landon promises. “Thanks, Mom.”

  Janice comes home to an empty house. She stops long enough to get herself something to eat and go to the wives’ meeting. All the talk ceases when she walks into the room. The women look at their feet rather than making eye contact with her. The questions are more subdued and none are directed at Janice.

  Leaving the meeting, Janice sighs and walks home slowly. She gets to the house and lets herself in. She finishes her book from the previous night.

  She gets up to check when Landon comes home. “How did the gig go?”

  “The gig went fine.” Landon answers. “The colonel came in and requested songs. I am going to have to expand my repertoire.”

  “Landon, has anyone said anything to you today about the complaint thing?”

  “Rick, the guy with the band I was telling you about, approached me again. I told him I had a solo gig until the school ends and he seemed shocked. He said he could get me some drugs and I said drugs don't go over well with the colonel. After that he sort of backed away from me.”

  Janice nods.

  “Mom, I have to get to bed. I