Code blue, p.4
Code Blue, page 4
“Very well. You can make another appointment if you wish, but I can assure you her condition will not change between now and then.”
It was obvious that Nurse Nasty wanted her gone, but Theresa was not going to back down. “I’ll make that appointment with the receptionist before I leave.”
Cheshire Cat was still smiling as she typed some information into her computer. Satisfied she would find some answers, Theresa thanked her and was buzzed out of the building.
She rolled down the windows of her car, cranked up the air-conditioning, and sat with the door open, waiting for the interior to cool down a bit. She recalled what she knew about Sunnydale. From her research, she knew they had three complexes and spent a lot of money on television advertising. On the surface, they were a legitimate business, yet her brief encounter and strange behavior from the staff stuck in her craw.
She decided the car was cool enough and began to pull out of the parking lot. As she proceeded toward the main road, a large dump truck sideswiped her, causing her to crash into a telephone pole. The airbag deployed, hitting her squarely in the head. She was dazed and waited for someone to come to her aid, but there was no one. She pulled out her phone and dialed 911. Fortunately, she only suffered a bruised nose and had a massive headache. She knew the car rental agency would want a police report, and she should get checked out by a doctor. The police and ambulance arrived at the same time.
The officer took her statement. “He came out of nowhere,” Theresa noted.
“Were you able to get a look at the license plate? Any markings on the truck?”
Theresa shook her head. The dump truck was nondescript.
“And he didn’t stop?”
“Correct. Had he stopped, I would be able to give you more information.” Her head was pounding, and she was losing her patience. “Please, can I go now? I can go to the police station tomorrow to finish your report.”
The officer was amenable and suspended the query. “Perhaps you’ll be able to recall a few more details after the shock wears off.” He scribbled something down and handed her his card. “We’ll check the surveillance. Meanwhile, if you think of anything, let me know.”
“Thank you.”
A medic ushered Theresa onto the stretcher, where they made sure she remained upright. She watched as her rental car was towed.
After a thorough exam, including a CAT scan, she was released from the hospital. They called a cab to take her back to the hotel, where she spent the last few hours of the afternoon phoning her sister and Brian. They were not going to be happy with this news.
Chapter Four
Sunnydale Do-Over-Again
Rather than renting another vehicle, Theresa decided to call a cab to take her to Sunnydale the next morning. It was also a precautionary measure. The doctor advised her not to get behind a wheel for a few days.
Even though she made the proper appointment, she knew the staff would not be happy to see her again. She was also curious as to what their reaction to her accident would be. Concern? Indifference? She was going to take copious mental notes of everyone and everything. Theresa did not believe in coincidences, but she also wasn’t prone to nefarious plots. But this? This needed some consideration.
The car delivered Theresa to Sunnydale on time. The driver was kind enough to tell her there was a shuttle bus that could bring her back to the hotel if she preferred. “You can pick it up at the roundabout on the other side.”
“How do I get over there?” Theresa asked.
“You’ll have to walk back to the security gate, unless you want to climb through the bushes,” he said, and grinned.
Theresa swiped her credit card and gave him a cash tip. “Thanks very much.” She began to walk toward the entrance and caught her reflection in the mirrored glass door. She looked like she had been in a bar fight. Rather than be embarrassed, Theresa thought it gave her more of an edge. Scrappy.
Cheshire Cat buzzed her in. “Oh, my. Look at your face!”
“Yes, I’ve seen it,” Theresa replied wryly.
“What on earth happened?” Smiley Face asked in earnest.
“A bit of a fender bender.” She wondered if there was any security footage but didn’t ask. She would pose that question to the police. No further explanation was needed, particularly since Theresa didn’t know which side of the fence Smiley Face was on.
“I’ll get someone to take you back ASAP!” Ms. Cheerful replied.
The more exposure Theresa had to the place and its staff, the more it felt like a creepy horror novel.
Once again she was escorted to the woman tangled in tubes. Once again Theresa spoke into the box, and once again, no response. Was she even breathing? Theresa wondered. It was difficult to tell, given the woman was on a ventilator. The woman’s skin was ashen, even more so than the day before. It was alarming. What if the woman was dying? Theresa rushed down the hallway to find someone to help. As she passed the third windowed room, she spotted the woman in the wheelchair wearing the ring. This time she didn’t stop and hustled to the reception area and banged on the door. The lock was buzzed open, and she dashed to the reception desk. “I think there is something wrong with my aunt,” she said breathlessly. “She looks awful.”
“We’ll manage this.”
Theresa’s anxiety level began to rise. She had absolutely nothing invested with her estranged aunt, except for the travel expenses, yet she felt a sense of responsibility. Regardless of the family history, Aunt Dottie shouldn’t spend her final days among cold, indifferent people. In spite of the receptionist’s permanent grin, there was an air of detachment to her. It was often necessary in this line of work, but people needed to feel cared for, especially when they were at their most vulnerable.
“And I saw that woman again. In the wheelchair.” Theresa was beginning to shake. She knew she hadn’t imagined the woman, or the ring. Who was she? The receptionist insisted there was no woman in a wheelchair.
“I know what I saw.” Theresa leaned against the wall and slid to the floor. She needed to sit down. Her head was spinning. There were no chairs, nor did Smiley Face offer her one, hence the floor was her only option. Within seconds Theresa was jolted by an alarm, and a voice came over an intercom stating, “Code Blue.”
Theresa pulled herself up using the handle of the security door. The woman behind the desk appeared to be unfazed. “What’s going on?” Theresa asked in a half-panic mode.
“Everything is being taken care of,” Smiley Face replied.
Theresa leaned against the wall again, waiting for someone to speak to her. But what would they say? There is no woman in a wheelchair. Your aunt had no jewelry. After several minutes, the phone rang at the reception desk. Theresa struggled to hear what was being discussed when the expression on Smiley’s face went blank. Her eyes darted toward Theresa; then she nodded. When the woman ended the call, she slipped the small plexiglass door open. “Nurse Turner will be with you in a moment.”
Several minutes lapsed, but they felt like an eternity. Nurse Turner came through the locked door with a blank expression on her face. “I am sorry to have to tell you, but your Aunt Dottie has passed.”
A wave of nausea flooded Theresa’s body. She didn’t know the woman, yet she felt a sense of loss. “Just now?” Her eyes unexpectedly filled with tears. It was a combination of frustration, shock, and a banging headache. “May I see her one more time?” Theresa didn’t know why she wanted to subject herself to the sight, but something urged her forward.
“If you wish,” Nurse Ratched answered with a sour tone. “Follow me.” The nurse buzzed them into the long, cold, fluorescent hallway. It was the first time Theresa realized there were no windows on the wall opposite the glass-enclosed rooms, nor were there windows in the confined spaces. Everything was hermetically sealed. It bore no resemblance to any other nursing home she had ever visited—albeit she hadn’t visited many. Still, the place struck her as odd. As they passed the room where Theresa swore she saw a woman in a wheelchair, Theresa purposely kept looking ahead until they came to Dottie’s cubicle. An orderly was in the room where Aunt Dottie’s body lay. Nurse McNasty gave the orderly a nod, and he proceeded to pull a sheet over the woman.
“What happens next?” Theresa asked.
“Your aunt signed a waiver giving us full responsibility.”
“I can take care of it.” Theresa felt it was the least she could do.
“That won’t be necessary. According to our paperwork, there were no surviving relatives.”
“Yes, but I am, was, her niece.”
“Not according to our records. We only allowed you to visit as a courtesy; however, you have not provided proper documentation of your relationship to her.”
“I still don’t understand. Are you saying I have to show you a copy of our family tree?” Theresa did not like the way the woman was speaking to her, especially her stern tone.
“As I said, according to her application, she did not list any relatives and dispensed her arrangements to Sunnydale. If you wish to pursue this, you may consider engaging an attorney.” Nurse McNasty tilted her head toward the exit, indicating Theresa should return to the lobby, or even better, leave the premises for good.
Theresa’s mind was racing. Had this been a fool’s errand? Her gut said no. Theresa remained silent as she made her way down the chilly hall. She glanced sideways into the room where the mysterious, ring-clad woman sat the day before. There she was again. The ring caught the corner of her eye. Theresa deliberately dropped her phone on the floor and bent over to pick it up. She stood slowly and snatched a glimpse of the woman behind the glass window. Theresa was now certain the woman, who looked like an older version of her mother, was indeed her aunt. It begged the question, Who was the woman who is now dead?
Theresa feigned fumbling with her purse and phone and stealthily snapped a photo of the woman with the blank expression. Nurse Cranky Pants was hot on her tail. “I’ll escort you out,” she proclaimed as she got between Theresa and the glass window.
The two women entered the vestibule. “We’ll take it from here,” the sourpuss announced.
“Are you planning on a wake? A memorial service? Something?”
“That won’t be necessary, considering she had no friends or family.”
“I see.” Theresa hid her anger and suspicion. This was far from being over. “I’ll leave you to it, then.”
The receptionist buzzed the main door, signaling it was time for Theresa to leave. She gave a cursory word of thanks and left the building.
The heat was relentless. She considered her options. It was at least a half mile to the security station. She decided to rifle through the vegetation rather than subject herself to more abuse from the heat. She parted the cypress branches and spotted the roundabout, where two people sat under the shade of the gazebo. Theresa crossed the narrow road and walked toward them.
“Well, hello!” Henry called out. “Are you lost?”
Theresa brushed away a few bugs she had disturbed as she rustled through the hedges. “Hi. It depends. Is this where the shuttle bus stops?”
“It is, but it won’t be here for another half hour. You should come sit in the shade. Are you okay?” Henry asked, eyeing her warily.
Theresa realized she must have been quite a sight with leaves tangled in her hair, the small bandage across her nose, and the slight bruise under her eye. “You should see the other guy.” She chuckled, breaking the ice.
Henry opened his soft-pack mini-cooler and handed Theresa a bottle of water. “What brings you here?”
Theresa thanked him and let out a deep breath. “I wish I could say it was my love of desert botanicals, but sadly, it is not.” She took a long pull of the water.
“I’m Henry. This is Frida.”
“Hello, Henry. Frida. I’m Theresa.”
“Do you have family here?” Frida asked.
Theresa twisted her mouth. “Hard to say. I thought I had family here.”
“Did they send you to the wrong place?” Frida asked.
“No.” She let out another big sigh. “It’s a long story.”
“We’ve got plenty of time,” Henry encouraged her, and Theresa felt the need to unburden herself with the oddities of the day.
“A few weeks ago, I received a letter from someone who informed me that my estranged aunt was in a nursing home. I say estranged because I never knew her. She was my mother’s sister, who left home when they were teenagers. My mother’s family lost track of her, or she lost track of them. My mom told us about her sister Dottie, and how they had been best buds until Dottie got herself into trouble.”
Frida shot Theresa a look. “What kind of trouble?”
“Oh, no, not that kind of trouble!” Theresa knew Frida was referring to being pregnant. “At least not according to what my mother knew. She would send an occasional postcard, and a couple of Christmas cards. The postcards came from New Mexico and Arizona, but there was never a return address.” She paused to take another swig of water. “My mom passed away two years ago, and I thought it was my duty to check it out. I flew in from Virginia to see if Dottie needed anything.”
“Were you able to see her?” Frida asked.
“That’s the thing.” Theresa wasn’t sure how many of her concerns she should share without sounding like a complete loon. “When I first arrived, I was turned away because I didn’t have an appointment.”
“Really? I didn’t know you had to do that,” Frida said, frowning.
“This place has some funny rules,” Henry chimed in. “I don’t mean this side of the property, but I’ve heard they don’t make it easy for visitors at the long-term care building.”
“Have you been there?”
“Thankfully, no,” Henry replied.
Theresa leaned closer. “I was there two days in a row. It reminded me of that movie Coma.”
“Oh, the one with Michael Douglas and—what’s the French actress’s name?” Frida tapped her middle finger and thumb to gether.
“Geneviève Bujold,” Henry assisted.
“Yes, that’s the one.” Frida nodded. “I always had trouble pronouncing her name.”
Theresa appreciated the easy conversation, but she wanted to continue dispatching her weighty thoughts, and plowed ahead. “When I was finally allowed into the building, they took me down a long hallway with the residents behind enclosed glass. My aunt was hooked up to hoses and machines. They wouldn’t let me into the room. Said it was a precautionary measure to prevent infections. I had to communicate through a speaker on the side panel. Of course she didn’t respond. Not even a flinch.”
“Oh, that’s such a shame.” Frida shook her head.
“You haven’t told us about you and ‘the other guy’.”
“Sorry?” Then Theresa remembered what her face looked like. “Yesterday, as I was leaving, a dump truck sideswiped me, and I ran into a pole.”
“Oh for!” Frida exclaimed. “Are you alright?”
“That all depends on the subject. Physically I’m fine. They did tests at the hospital, and then I went back to the hotel. I took a taxi here today.”
“And what happened?”
“It’s all very strange.” Theresa took a deep breath. “Dottie passed away while I was there.”
“Oh, my! That’s dreadful!” Frida’s hand flew to her mouth.
Henry patted Theresa’s arm. “I am so sorry. Are you alright?”
“Yes, and no.” This was where the rubber was going to meet the road. “Can I tell you something?” She leaned in closer to the couple.
“Of course.” Frida was sympathetic and encouraging.
Theresa dug through her purse and pulled out the photo. “This is a photo of my mom and Dottie.”
“Sweet-looking girls,” Frida said.
“You see the ring on Dottie’s finger?”
“Oh, yes. I had something similar. Art deco. Was all the rage at one time.” Frida looked closer at the photo.
“Here’s the thing.” Theresa had no idea who these people were, but she felt they could be trusted. At the very least, they were the only people who had been nice to her since she arrived. Granted, Smiley Face was nice, but Theresa knew it was an act. She continued her story. “The woman, who they told me was my Aunt Dottie, was not wearing the ring. They said she didn’t have any jewelry. But my mother told me that Dottie swore she would never take it off.”
“Well, dear, a lot of years passed. She may have lost it, gave it away?” Frida suggested.
“Then how is it that another woman a few windows down was wearing the ring?”
“Oh, goodness. Do you think she stole it from your aunt?”
“No. I think the woman wearing the ring might actually be my aunt. She looked a lot like my mother. Her face was slack, but there was definitely a family resemblance.”
“Did you tell the staff?”
“I went to the front desk and asked about the woman in the wheelchair, and they told me there wasn’t a woman in a wheelchair. They even walked me back to the window where I swore she was sitting.” Theresa waited a moment to see how the two would react to her story. Neither said anything in response, but they also didn’t show signs that they thought Theresa was crazy.
“Today, when I stopped to see the woman named Dottie, she was ashen. I ran to the door and got someone to check on her. It took a few minutes, and when they returned, they told me the woman had passed away.” She paused again. “I asked if I could see her one more time, and they brought me to the window and quickly pulled a sheet over her.”
Theresa tilted her head. “Here’s where I start to sound like I’m suffering from heatstroke.” She took another deep breath. “As they were shuttling me down the hall, I purposely dropped my phone in front of the window of the woman in the wheelchair. Nurse Ratched quickly got between me and the window, but I managed to snap a photo as I fumbled with my purse.” Theresa took her phone out and showed them the picture.
Henry and Frida peered at the screen. Then Theresa pulled out the old photo of her mother and Aunt Dottie.
