Between the Rage and Grace Read online

  “No! It’s not like that.” Clara said a bit on the defense.

  “Did you ever tell that woman’s family about Omaha?” he asked half jokingly.

  “Yes I did.” Clara told him.

  “So are they moving?”

  “It wasn’t…” Clara started to correct him but she had bigger issues to be dealt with, “This is serious Daddy.”

  “Mary…” he called again, “Hurry up. She says it’s serious.”

  Mrs. O’Bromley sauntered out of the kitchen, “Keep your hat on old man, and don’t rush me.”

  “If I had an aluminum hat I’d keep it on for sure to keep that child of ours from peekin’ in to my brain.”

  “What do you mean?” Mrs. O’Bromley asked being behind on the conversation.

  “How’d you like her getting’ an eye full of her ma and pa on the night she was conceived?” he asked his wife.

  “Ewww.” Clara said with her tongue sticking out from her contorted face.

  “I’ve got to check the supplies and make some phone calls.” Mr. O’Bromley said quickly kissing the women, “I’ll leave you girls to it.”

  When he had walked straight to the office and shut the door Mrs. O’Bromley whispered,

  “You know he doesn’t want any part of the serious matters.”

  “I know.” Clara whispered back.

  Mrs. Bromley started toward the corner booth and Clara followed. Once they were snuggled into their familiar seats Mary motioned for the waitress to bring them coffee.

  “How’s the new girl working out?” Clara inquired.

  “Great.” Her mother told her, “That girl could run the place by herself if she had to, she’s that good. Makin’ a ton of tips too I might add. I don’t count `em though. I figure Uncle Sam gets his share as it is.”

  After the drinks were delivered and they were certain they wouldn’t be interrupted Mrs. O’Bromley initiated, “So you bloomed, did ya?”

  Clara smiled sheepishly and nodded.

  “Well what was it like?” her mother prodded.

  “Scary at first” Clara admitted, “And tired… my lord it sucked the sap right out of me. But Linda’s mother-”

  “What?” Mrs. O’Bromley cut short, “Her mother finally showed up?”

  Clara nodded and continued, “She showed me how to just look at it without feeling it.”

  “How’d she show you that? Is she gifted too?”

  “She talked me through it. She knew I could do it before I believed I could. She needed me to help her reach Linda. Oh Mama it is so… I don’t even know how to describe it.”

  “And this woman…Linda’s mother - is she woman of faith?”

  “What do you mean?” Clara asked although she knew full well what her mother was asking, she didn’t want to divulge the fact that Ms. Latrull was immersed in the pagan art of what she would call black magic. Anything that fell outside of sole reliance on God and natural gifts Mary O’Bromley declared as black magic. Oddly enough Mary Magdalene Latrull once felt the same way before the priest at Saint Anthony’s School had raped her. Clara saw her lying beneath the tainted cloak of the Latin minister, his greasy sweat smeared across her teenaged face as she pleaded dear God please make him stop. Mary Magdalene had not asked God for anything since.

  “You know darn well what I mean Clara.” Her mother scolded, “I get the feeling there is something about this woman that you are not telling me, something bad.”

  “There is.” Clara admitted, “But it is something I cannot tell you- something very personal that happened to her that she has never told anyone.”

  “Oh, by all means you must not tell it then. That is the first and most important lesson in seeing- good for you Clara Bell.”

  Mrs. O’Bromley was satisfied with the answer to her daughter’s relief.

  “Is there anything that sparks your visions?” Clara asked, “Do you know when-”

  “Nope. Like I told you before they just come random, can’t make `em come on either. They got a mind of their own. Kinda like someone holding flashcards up or bits of film from a movie.”

  “Did you ever want to see more?”

  “Don’t think I could if I wanted to.” her mother replied, “I take what’s given me, don’t want to seem greedy lest the lord take it all away.”

  Clara smiled and reached for her mother’s hand, “I love you Mama.”

  Mrs. O’Bromley squeezed her daughter’s hand and smiled, “I love you too baby girl but if you think you’re fixin to look into my mind give it up. I got the great wall of china built across mine.”

  “I don’t want to see into your head.” Clara said earnestly, “TMI mama, too much information.”

  Mrs. O’Bromley gave the hand another tender grip and told her, “Go home and get some rest.”

  “Okay.” She agreed. “Let me tell Daddy bye first.”

  Clara poked her head in and told her father, “You can come out now. I’ll see you later Pops.” Mr. O’Bromley waved and returned to his perch at the register.

  Clara entered the quiet house and went through the usual routine of every morning Monday through Friday when Jim wasn’t there. The visions and useless information continued to swirl around in her mind, some she would hold steady and examine while others were discarded to the subconscious stack immediately. She suppressed each one with Ms. Latrull’s secrets attached and placed them in a vault deep inside her subliminal intellect. They were not hers yet they had sought refuge in her head.

  When the tiredness finally crept up on her Clara made her way to the bedroom. Though she had resorted to sleeping on the divan today she felt she needed to stretch out and hoped for a refreshing slumber. She had barely begun grazing over the paperback novel and nodded off in a half reclined position. After several hours she barely roused and only because her neck was hurting so she slid down into the covers and wiped a stream of saliva from her face. You know you’re sleeping good when you slobber, she smiled and returned to her siesta.

  All of the happenings of the prior night scrolled across her minds eye in the twilight of slumber but none of it troubled her in her peaceful rest. The flickering lights came and went like automobiles on a midnight highway while her psyche smiled and waved at the passerby’s until she heard someone call Duffy?

  She enjoyed the dreams of Duffy MacDougal and waited for his gentle face to emerge.

  Sure enough there he came dispersing the night with his shimmering presence.

  Hello Uncle Duffy she called from her closed eyes, flooded with peace by his smiling face. Duffy? Again the voice called and he turned away from Clara. She watched as he made his way through the overgrown hours of darkness toward the voice that called him by name. Sweeping, reaching for the grimness and crushing it with every enlightened step. Duffy I can’t see you, the voice was closer, more pronounced with a twinge of fear.

  Turning his palms up like a lighthouse to a ship lost at sea he replied, Here I am Mary.

  Clara bolted from the bed disoriented with astonishment as she threw back the heavy drapes. The cardinal that roosted in the Crepe Myrtle tree by her window was getting ready to go to roost. Clara marveled at the dazzling red male as he chirped what she suspected was goodnight to his dull orange mate who in turn seemed to snub him as she preened the feathers beneath her wing.

  “Oh crap crap crap!” she said aloud as she jumped into the uniform she had taken off earlier in the day and ran to the restroom where she took a swig off mouthwash directly from the bottle and spit it into the toilet.

  “Key’s, purse... crap!” She huffed rummaging through the cluttered bag. Clutching the ring of keys in her hand she hurried toward the front door. The TV was playing in the living room which meant that her lover boy was home.

  Pausing for a moment to gaze at Jim who was asleep in the recliner with the television remote firmly planted in his hand she whispered, “Bye sweetie, I love you.” and left without waking him.

  Chapter 23

  Twixt Wrath and M
ercy

  Clara phoned Maggie to tell her she was running late.

  “No shit?” Maggie laughed. “I figured that out thirty minutes ago.”

  “Well I’m making it official.” Clara said, “I’ll be there in a few minutes.” And she hung up the phone before Maggie could smart off again. Not that Maggie’s wise cracks bothered her any more; she understood the fallen queen much better now and even found her diffusing callousness a bit humorous.

  Clara threw the car in park without bothering to lock the doors and ran to the hospital entrance. Once inside the structure she slowed her pace to a brisk walk.

  It was eerily quiet as she passed the switchboard operator who sat with her feet up reading an outdated magazine with Elizabeth Taylor and Michael Jackson’s faces inked on the cover.

  “Slow tonight, huh?” Clara asked her.

  “Like molasses on a winter night.” The operator answered, “Census is way down and you only have one in the unit. I’m surprised that little smart aleck in there didn’t call you and tell you to stay home. She should have. But I guess she thinks she’s running things since your boss tried to do herself in, all these nurses sitting around on their duffs with nothing to do-”

  “Pardon me ma’am.” The voice interrupted. Clara turned to see Ms. Latrull standing behind her in a ragged red robe. Struggling not to laugh at the site of the troubled soul she replied, “Yes, Ms. Latrull, can I help you?”

  “Miss Maggie said dat she would come for me, but dat was nearly an hour ago.”

  Overhearing the conversation the operator smirked, “Visiting hours are over for ICU, you’ll have to come back in the morning.”

  Ms. Latrull looked at Clara with a panicked expression and begged, “Oh no lady Clara I must see her tonight. Dis night she WILL be awake. I talked to her-”

  “I’ll handle this.” Clara told the operator intentionally interrupting Ms. Latrull.

  The operator shrugged her shoulders and went back to reading the obsolete gossip rag.

  “You can’t… you have to be careful what you say around strangers Ms. Latrull.” Clara told her as she led her down the hall. “People will think you’re off your rocker.”

  “Don’t day already tink dat?” the woman replied.

  “No need to add to the numbers.” Clara laughed.

  “We are on our way to see her, is dat correct?”

  “Yes. “ Clara reassured her as she shoved the door open and yelled at Maggie, “Honey I’m home.”

  “Get your tiny tail in here.” Maggie yelled back, “You are not going to believe this.”

  Clara looked at Ms. Latrull whose face was overtaken by a smile from ear to ear with diamonds dancing in her eyes.

  “See, I told you Miss Clara.”

  When they reached the nurses station Maggie held her hand to her mouth and mumbled, “I’m sorry Ms. Latrull, I forgot all about you.”

  “Dat’s okay. Can I see her?” she urged.

  “Not just yet. “ Maggie told her, “Wait in room #3 and I’ll come get you-”

  “Where have I heard dat before?” the madam queried with a sardonic face.

  “I will come get you myself.” Clara promised as she led the anxious mother to the small holding space and made her comfortable.

  “I won’t stay in here all night. If you do not come wit in da hour I will go myself to my daughter.”

  “Agreed.” Clara told her and returned to where Maggie was standing and asked her,

  “What is the deal with the robe? Didn’t she stay with you last night?”

  “Yes she did, that monstrosity she is wearing belongs to Linda. And Linda by the way loves the ugly thing; she says it’s like being wrapped in a warm hug but I think it looks like smothering in a sea of hostile dread. You ought to see the black furry slippers she wears with it. She looks like Big Birds cardinal cousin.” Maggie was rambling nervously.

  Clara sat her purse on the desk and grabbed Maggie by the shoulders and calmly asked,

  “Is she awake?”

  Maggie looked intently at Clara and fighting the sting she felt rising in her visual orbits

  she sniveled,

  “It’s the damnedest thing I have ever seen. I don’t know what to make of it. I mean I know what we did, what you did and Ms. Latrull… I seen some strange stuff with my own eyes but when they told me in report that she was awake I expected she might be just starting to respond with her eyes and that was good enough for me, ya know… but when I walked in there and she was sitting up in the bed it damn near gave me a heart attack. I don’t mind telling you it scared ten years off my life.”

  “So what has she said? How does she feel?” Clara asked with a childish excitement.

  “Nothing.” Maggie snapped.

  “Nothing at all?” Clara felt disappointed as she told her friend, “I really felt like she would be totally coherent and… well normal I guess. Maybe I did get my hopes up too much.”

  “On no. I’m sure she would have spoke but I was so blasted rattled by the whole thing I just said ‘call me if you need anything’ and shut the damn door. I’m telling you Clara it shook me up. I haven’t even tried to go back in there and she hasn’t called for anything.

  Her feeding is due in thirty minutes and I was scared to death you weren’t going to get her in time.”

  “What if I hadn’t come in at all?” she asked Maggie, “The operator said the census is way down and she is griping about nurses sitting on their butts.”

  “That crabby ole wench acts like she pays our salary, piss on her.” Maggie spat with irritation, “Who the hell is she anyway, huh? Nobody, that’s who, she needs to answer the phones and keep her damn opinions to herself. I think I’ll go tell her just that.”

  Maggie started marching for the door but turned back when Clara ordered her,

  “Get back here. You’re not that upset with her, you are merely redirecting your emotions.”

  “Oh, are you sneaking around in my mind now?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous” Clara told her, “its way too small for the both of us to fit in there.”

  Maggie rolled her eyes but smiled at the remark, “Maybe you’re right.”

  “Shh!” Clara said as she listened for the noise to repeat itself. “Do you hear that?”

  Maggie shook her head straining her own ear to hear.

  Clara heard it again and pointing to room #3 they both crept to the door and listened.

  “It sounded like a giggle.” Clara whispered.

  “It probably was.” Maggie told her, “The madam has a sense of humor tucked off in there. She was probably laughing at the smart ass remark you just made about my small mind.”

  “I was just being honest.” Clara said dryly and the quiet sneer repeated.

  “We’ll come for you in a few minutes.” Maggie called through the closed door.

  “I want wait much longer.” The patient lady informed them.

  “Come on.” Clara told Maggie, let’s check on our patient.” Maggie followed quietly like a homeless canine.

  Clara gathered the nutritional formula, put her stethoscope around her neck and proceeded to room #6.

  With Maggie hanging on her coat tail Clara stepped into the dark room and turned the overhead lamp on to emit a dim glow. Linda lay motionless with her eyes closed and Clara made a mental note that her respirations were deeper than they had been. She also noted that her color had more depth. The sallow cheeks now had a warm pink tinge to them; the jugular vein in her neck stood full enough you could count her heart beats by it.

  Clara hung the fresh feeding, set the flow rate and moved to the foot of the bed to check the catheter that kept her bladder drained of urine. Neither of them uttered a word which was peculiar being as they had constantly spoken to the comatose patient before she had shown signs of waking up. Clara bent down to observe the contents of the bladder drain and slowly rose to face Maggie. Smiling and pointing at the foot of the bed with a rapid poking motion. Maggie eased closer to see
what Clara was silently urging her to look at.

  Beneath the blanket Linda’s foot was rhythmically rocking from side to side like a metronome. “Are you trying to hypnotize us with your foot?” Maggie blurted out.

  “You little possum player.” She laughed. Linda smiled gingerly and eased her eyes open.

  Maggie pounced on the bed without reservations and hugged her long lost friend.

  “I’ve been so scared Mucalinda!” Maggie cried, “I was afraid I would never see those pretty brown eyes again.”

  “Then why did you shut the door on me earlier?” Linda croaked, her voice fighting to find its way back.

  “Hell that scared me too.” Maggie admitted, “Have you ever seen a dead person set up and grin at you?”

  “No,” Linda told her.

  “Would you like some ice chips Linda?” Clara asked the patient.

  “Please.” She replied holding her dry throat.

  Clara left the two alone while she went to fill the plastic water container with crushed ice from the utility room.

  “Thank you for not giving up on me.” Linda mumbled with a raspy crackle.

  “I almost did honey, I almost did.” Maggie told her.

  “Did you sell my Google stock?”

  “Heck no.” the girl friend replied.

  “Then you still had hope.” Linda’s laugh quickly turned into a parched cough.

  Clara returned just in time to offer her a few minute chips of frozen water which she promptly placed in her mouth and ask for more.

  “Not just yet.” The nurse told her, “Let’s see how you do and I’ll give you more in a few minutes. And no talking for right now okay?”

  Linda nodded in agreement but if it had been left to her she would have packed her mouth full of the delicious frigid morsels and rambled for hours.

  Clara gave her a series of commands to follow and marked the electronic notebook after each one. Close your eyes-check. Open your eyes-check. Raise your right hand-check. Raise your left hand-check. Hold up three fingers on your left hand-check. Bend your knees-check. Lift your left leg-check. Lift your right leg-check with an added note that said barely.