Thursday, February 07, 2013

Hello there Miss Delaney! Here to see your sister again?"

Ingrid's only reply to the perky receptionist was a terse nod. Alice, gripping Annie's hand in a vice-like hold, relaxed and snickered a bit as she overheard Ingrid mumble grimly that she'd been coming here three times a week for three years and it sure wasn't for the atmosphere.

The trio made their way down the main hall, young Annie absorbing the sights and sounds along the way. Mauve and teal seemed the dominant color scheme. She couldn't help peering through and doors that had been left open. Many of the little rooms had televisions blaring, and there was a pervasive smell that she couldn't identify. Their progress was slow, as it was nearing the lunch hour, and many of the residents were wheeling carefully down to the dining hall.

Finally they reached a set of large iron doors. Ingrid punched a few buttons on the keypad and one of them swung slowly open. They'd reached the Alzheimer's ward.

They found themselves in a well lit common room, where several residents were each whiling away the time in their own peculiar way. One woman was wandering the room with an old rag carefully wiping each table. A man sat in a corner quietly talking to an unseen visitor. As they crossed the room, they were joined by the oldest looking creature Annie had ever seen. The woman could barely push the walker she used, but managed to latch on to Annies's elbow with surprising speed and strength. "Help me!" she said. "I want to go home. Can you help me?"

Annie shuddered, and attempted to smile sympathetically as an attendant suddenly materialized to detatch the aged resident. "Come on Josephine. You are home. Let's go see your room!" he said. "I have a room?" the ancient one quavered. "Yes, it's a very nice one too. Lot's of candy jars!"
This appeared to have a somewhat mollifying effect. "Yes. I like candy. Can I have some if I'm good?" The attendant nodded and guided her away.

"She's been here longer than Ellen. Still can't figure out where she is." observed Ingrid. "Well, come along girls, we're almost there."

Down a short corridor, they passed a grey bearded man peering intently into a broom closet. He jerked his head around as they passed. "Dark outside already!" he announced. Annie almost smiled. Finally they arrived. "Here it is." said Ingrid. She entered without knocking.

A gentle looking woman sat on a small white bed, cradling a doll in her arms. Her long silvery hair flowed straight down her back, almost to her waist. She looked up absently and nodded before turning her attention back to the doll. She was humming softly. "Look Janie!" she said to the doll, "We have some visitors. They look friendly enough... don't be shy now."

Alice stared. It was difficult to say what was the more shocking; the fact that she scarcely recognized her own mother or the more devastating truth that her own mother could not recognize her. Annie looked on shyly, not sure what to do.

Ingrid stepped forward, and sat down next to her sister. "Hello Ellen, how's the baby this morning?"

"Oh Ingrid! You startled me! Baby's a bit fussy today. She just won't eat a thing! I'm telling you, when Al comes home, he'll have to take us for a drive. What are you doing here anyway?"


"Just visiting. I brought Alice and her daughter Annie here to see you. They're right over there." said Ingrid nonchalantly pointing to the woman and girl standing rigidly in the corner.


"How'd you do Alice, Annie. I'm Ellen. This is Baby Jane. You know Alice, I have a little girl called Alice too. I'm sure she's here somewhere... Alice? Alice! Come meet our visitors." she called out absently, as if not expecting a reply. "She's always out playing with the neighbors you know. Never comes when I call her."


Alice stared blankly for a moment before blurting "Mother, it's me! I'm Alice!" in a pained tone that brought tears to Ingrid's eyes.


Ellen looked up sharply and studied Alice's stricken features for a moment before throwing back her silvery head and laughing. "Oh no, no dear. You're fooling me. Alice is only five years old! Come sit down, and let me see your baby! She's absolutely precious. Look at all those curls. Come here darling and let me kiss you!"


She carefully handed "Baby Jane" to Ingrid and opened her arms to Annie. With surprising empathy, Annie rushed forward and embraced her grandmother. She sat down next to her, and Ellen held on tightly to her hand. Annie fidgeted a bit and Ellen chuckled. "Oooh, look how happy she is to see me! Just kicking those little legs! She can't be more than two can she? What pretty curls!"


"Mother, I..."


"Come sit down now Alice. Tell me about yourself." Alice stared at Ingrid beseechingly, not sure what to do. Ellen looked up expectantly, still clinging to Annie's hand. Annie decided to make the best of things.


"We just moved here from far away. My mom's looking for a new job. We're living with Aunt Ingrid."


"Oh, is that so? My you speak so well for a little girl! What big words you're using! Ingrid, you must be busy with such a little one running about the place. I never thought you'd be one for having children in the house. You being so busy with Sonny and all those parties and important people to look after. Well, you're never safe from surprise until you're dead! Alice, what do you think of Connecticut?"


Alice sank into a nearby chair and began to converse weakly with this familiar stranger. After half an hour Ingrid could see that she was nearing total break down, and signaled that it was time to go.


"Well do please come again!" urged Ellen as they said their farewells. "Maybe next time Albert and our little Alice will be here to meet you. They're just away so often!"


The drive home began in silence, punctuated by loud sniffs from Alice in the passenger seat.


"There now Alice. I ought to have warned you but she does have very lucid days occasionally. I suppose I was hoping this would be one of them, or that the sight of you would bring her back for a time. She fades in and out of the past you know. Today she was a happy young mother back in Connecticut. Tomorrow she might be middle aged and living in California with me. It's never certain where she'll be next."


Alice wheezed into a handkerchief for a moment before replying. "Oh Ingrid, I knew she was bad, but what really shocked me was the baby. She thinks that doll is Jane! She hardly ever mentioned Jane while I was growing up..." her voice trailed off into the handkerchief again.


"Aunt Ingrid, I think I've missed something." said Annie quietly. "Who was Jane?"


"Your mother had a sister many years ago Annie. Baby Jane. She died when she was only two. Ellen never could talk about it, and your mother was only six when it happened. It's a painful subject, and I'm not surprised that you haven't been told. We're not very good about discussing our painful pasts in this family."


"Aunt Ingrid?"


"Yes child?"


"How did she die?"

Ingrid fidgeted uncomfortably. "Well, hasn't your mother told you? It was an accident. I was visiting your parents with a friend of mine. We decided to take Janie and Alice to the county fair one night as a special treat... well... I..."


"Ingrid. Please tell her what happened."


"I can't remember most of what happened. My friend was driving us home, and the next thing I knew I was coming to in a hospital bed. There'd been an accident. He swore up and down that he'd had nothing to drink, but you just never knew with Sonny. Alice,  you were thrown out of the car, and badly bruised but otherwise all right. I had a few broken ribs. Sonnny.. I think he had a few things broken too... but Jane... oh.. little Janie..."


Ingrid choked back bitter tears of recollection.


Alice swallowed her tears and stared blankly out the window. She knew Ingrid hated open displays of emotion more than anything. It wasn't five minutes before Annie had another question.


"Is Sonny your knick-name for Frank Morris? Did he die? is that why you never married?"


Ingrid sighed. "Child, have you NO mercy? Not one scrap of human kindness or compassion? What makes you think I want to discuss Frank Morris with a little Paul Pry... oh fiddle sticks. No! Sonny was Frank's younger brother. He did not die in the accident. People like him never get their just reward.He recovered and for all I know is still alive and kicking some place, blast him. If I've managed to survive this long it's possible that he did too."

Annie decided that she'd pushed things far enough and lapsed into silence. There was so much to her aunt and her family that fascinated. She resolved to root out as much of the old story as she dared.

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