Patricia Rockwell - Essie Cobb 04 - Ghosted Read online

“You’ll love your answering machine, Essie,” said Opal, ignoring Marjorie. “There have been times when I was expecting an important phone call and I simply didn’t want to leave my apartment because I was afraid I’d miss it. Now with an answering machine, you can just go about your business and when you come back, that little red light is there blinking, letting you know that someone has called. It’s very reassuring.” Opal spoke in a calm voice as she was describing the nature of her answering machine. Essie always assumed that she’d used this voice effectively when she was employed as an administrative assistant before she retired.

  “It has a lot of buttons,” said Essie, lower lip out as she thought about the device sitting on her end table. “I hate buttons.”

  “Oh, Essie,” said Marjorie, obviously forgetting her small disagreement with her pal, “you’ll get used to them. Actually, I agree with Opal. It’s so much fun to come home and find that little red light blinking away.”

  “Blinking away!” said a male voice. The women turned and glanced up. The Happy Haven general manager, Felix Federico, was standing beside Essie.

  “What is blinking, Miss Essie?” he intoned in his deep, sonorous voice, his accent emphasizing the vowel in blinking so that it sounded like a romantic love song.

  “Oh! Mr. Federico!” sputtered Essie, surprised.

  “Felix,” he said softly, placing his hands warmly on both hers and Marjorie’s shoulders. Both women looked sideways up at the tall, swarthy director.

  “Felix,” replied Essie, gulping. “Just my answering machine. It has a little red blinking light.”

  “Mine too…Felix,” added Marjorie, staring up into his face.

  “What would we do?” pronounced Felix Federico dramatically, “without technology? It makes our life, it makes it so much easier…and yet, sometimes…I long for the days when it was more semplice…simpler…when we just spoke to each other, you know, one to one, intimately.” He said this last word tenderly and looked from one woman to another, even sending glances over to Opal and Fay across the table.

  “Oh, yes,” agreed Marjorie with a sigh as she looked up dreamily into Felix Federico’s face, “intimately.”

  Essie loved to listen to the new Happy Haven director, obviously as much as Marjorie did. His accent was so beautiful and he had such a soft voice that it was like being sung to sleep by your mother. Like a lullaby, she thought. She sighed audibly, just as Felix removed his hands after giving each woman’s shoulder a tender squeeze.

  “Ladies, you have a wonderful evening,” he said with a little bow. He looked like a romantic hero in one of those tear-jerker movies. He flowed gracefully over to another table, and Essie mused he was probably about to give the same schmaltzy treatment to another group of susceptible women. She shook herself, hoping to bring herself back to earth.

  “I guess now that we’ve gotten our ‘Felix’ fix,” said Opal, “we can get going.”

  “I wouldn’t mind getting much more fixed by Felix,” added Marjorie, still staring after the handsome man who was now chatting amiably with residents at a nearby table.

  “I want to get back,” said Essie, “and check on my answering machine!” She pulled herself up and grabbed her walker.

  “It’ll be there when you get there, Essie,” said Marjorie. “You don’t have to hurry back!”

  “I know,” said Essie. “But now I’m curious to know if I got any messages. What if all this time that I’ve been moving around Happy Haven, people have been wanting to leave me messages, and haven’t?”

  “Then get going!” suggested Opal. Her suggestion was lost on Essie who had already started out of the dining hall and was headed towards her apartment.

  When she got there, she immediately looked at her new little machine and was disappointed to discover that there was no blinking light. With a sigh, she rolled over to her recliner and plopped down and then picked up her TV remote.

  She was delighted that it was time for her favorite game show with the spinning wheel. Actually, the show played at numerous times during the day on different channels. Essie was well aware of each channel and each time slot. She flipped the ‘on’ button and was delighted to discover that the host and hostess had just arrived on stage and were greeting the three contestants while the big colorful wheel spun around and around in the background. She leaned back ready to enjoy her favorite program.

  Her door opened and her night time aide Lorena entered.

  “Lorena,” cried Essie. “You’re here early. It’s nowhere near eight o’clock!”

  “I’m sorry, Miss Essie,” replied the plump aide. “We down one aide tonight. I gotta do two wings. Angela’s and my own! Hope you don’t mind if we do your pills a little early!”

  “No. I don’t mind. I just got back from dinner.”

  “What you got there?” asked the aide, coming over to Essie’s chair and staring at the new machine.

  “It’s my answering machine,” said Essie proudly. “My grandson Ned hooked it up and taught me how to use it!”

  “That good!” said Lorena. “You need one of them machines, Miss Essie. You hardly ever here! I don’t know as how them daughters ever find you!”

  “Lorena!” cried Essie. “That’s ridiculous. I’m here a lot. It’s my apartment. I’m here now, aren’t I?”

  “Panting,” said Lorena, staring at Essie. “You just got here, didn’t you, Missy?”

  “So?”

  “So’s you probably out chasing after that Felix Federico,” replied Lorena with a suggestive leer.

  “Not me,” said Essie, “but maybe my friend Marjorie was.”

  Lorena laughed as she went to Essie’s kitchen and got the medicine box down from the cupboard.

  “Oh, here’s that vitamin supplement they’ve added to your meds,” she said. “You want this in water or juice?”

  “Water is fine,” replied Essie. “It tastes awful, but it’s quick.”

  “Let me put it in juice then,” offered Lorena. “You won’t taste it in orange juice.” She got out a glass and plopped a tablespoon of the powder in and then poured in some juice from the refrigerator and brought the concoction along with Essie’s nighttime pills over to the recliner.

  “Ick,” said Essie, gulping down the pills along with the powder-filled juice. “A lot of yuck. I hope I don’t have to take this stuff for long.”

  “Just swallow it all at once,” said Lorena. “Believe me, there are worse things to drink!”

  “I can’t imagine what,” sneered Essie. Lorena tousled Essie’s white curls and then cleaned up the glass and put away the meds. “Okay, now, Missy, let’s get you ready for bed!” Essie sighed and followed Lorena into the bedroom. She hated to miss her show.

  CHAPTER NINE

  “Just like a ghost, you’ve been a-hauntin’ my dreams,

  So I’ll propose on Halloween.

  Love is kinda crazy with a spooky little girl like you.”

  ––Classics IV

  Essie slept blissfully. She dreamt about her husband, specifically the night he was made Vice President. All of that closet cleaning had probably joggled her memory, she mused, and those long dormant memories just came rushing back. Oh, blathering boomerangs! She certainly didn’t mind having such pleasant dreams about John. Nightmares were common enough and to wake up feeling happy and refreshed was fine with her. John was an appreciative husband, she recalled. She could almost feel his arms around her, hear his voice, and smell his breath on her neck…

  “Essie! Miss Essie!” cried a voice disturbing her pleasant dream. “I can’t believe you’re still asleep!” Essie’s eyes popped open to find her morning aide DeeDee staring down at her from above.

  “Oh, DeeDee!” said Essie sleepily. “I was having such a nice dream.”

  “It must be,” said DeeDee, “for you to be still in bed after seven!”

  “Seven!” cried Essie, sitting up abruptly. “It can’t be that late!”

  “It is, Miss Essie,” replied DeeDee, lifti
ng the coverlet like a big sail from Essie’s bed, and pulling the little woman’s feet over to the edge of the bed in a graceful, much practiced movement.

  “We’d better hurry!” said Essie with alarm. “I don’t want to be late for breakfast.”

  “Oh, don’t you worry, Essie,” replied DeeDee. “You know I’d never let that happen!” She smiled warmly and gave Essie a little hug and then quickly exchanged Essie’s bed clothes for underwear.

  “Oh, my!” said DeeDee as she opened the top drawer. “Where are all your bras?”

  “My daughters threw out most of them!” replied Essie. “I only have the beige one I had on yesterday and the white one.”

  “I guess that’s okay,” said DeeDee, helping Essie stand, leaning her over and carefully fitting her breasts into Essie’s favorite bra from the chair. “Since you only really wear these two anyway.”

  “That’s not true, DeeDee!” cried Essie, standing as DeeDee snapped the bra shut behind her back. “I wore that black one once.”

  “When? On Halloween?” DeeDee had wandered off into the closet to select an outfit for Essie to wear. “Oh, My Lord! Essie, where are all your clothes?”

  “I told you, DeeDee,” said Essie as DeeDee returned looking aghast. “My daughters gave almost everything in my closet to charity.”

  “There are only a few tops and pants left,” said DeeDee, her brow furrowed. “Your closet looks like it’s been burglarized. They took everything!”

  “They say they’re going to get me some new things.”

  “They’d better do it soon, because that closet is bare as a baby’s bottom!”

  “Oh, I think I’ll manage, DeeDee,” said Essie reassuringly. “I can wear the brown trousers I had on yesterday. And maybe that blue flowered top?” DeeDee shook her head and headed back into the closet. She soon returned with the items of clothing that Essie requested and helped her dress.

  “One thing I can say about your daughter’s cleaning spree,” noted DeeDee as she helped Essie head to the living room, “at least it will simplify getting you ready every morning. Not much to decide.” Essie ignored her aide and rolled over to her recliner and eased into the seat. She reached over for her clipboard and began working on an incomplete puzzle while DeeDee busied herself in Essie’s kitchenette fixing her morning medications.

  “Oh, I see they’re leaving this new vitamin supplement just sitting here on the sink. I wonder if that’s wise.”

  “I hardly think anyone’s going to steal it,” replied Essie. “It’s the most foul tasting goop I’ve ever swallowed.”

  “That’s too bad,” said DeeDee. “You’d think they’d make these things taste better if they want people to take them regularly.” She mixed the powder into Essie’s morning juice and brought it over to her along with a handful of five or six pills.

  Essie downed both pills and juice and gave DeeDee a smile and an open mouth to indicate that she had indeed consumed her required meds for the morning. DeeDee smiled and returned to the kitchen to clean up.

  “You want me to roll you out to the dining hall, Essie?” asked DeeDee. “They’re probably lining up for breakfast.”

  “No,” replied Essie. “I’m fine. I want to finish this puzzle first and then I’ll head out.”

  “Okay, Essie!” said DeeDee. “Suit yourself!” With a cheerful wave, DeeDee headed out the door.

  Essie scratched her head, ignoring DeeDee’s exit. She stared at the puzzle on her clipboard. She thumbed through some of her other puzzles and attempted to finish some of the others that remained unsolved. After a few minutes of annoyance, she picked up her TV remote and flipped on a channel where she knew she’d get a morning news show. The announcer was talking about some financial bill awaiting passage in Congress. He droned on about the details of said bill and Essie tried to focus on his words but soon found them boring and difficult to follow. She drifted back to sleep and the pleasant dream she’d had earlier about her husband and the night she’d worn the beautiful black cocktail dress came roaring back. She could see John so vividly, almost hear him speak, see his face and his eyes. He had such beautiful blue eyes, she remembered. And when he looked at her, it was almost as if he saw a part of her that she herself was not aware of. Time floated by.

  Essie was jarred awake by a loud commercial on the television. She glanced down at her watch when she realized that she had fallen asleep. Luckily, only a few minutes had passed and she was absolutely not late for breakfast. She picked up her clipboard and stared back at the clue that had been bothering her. As she stared at it, her eyes seemed to play tricks on her—or at least that’s what she thought.

  It almost seemed as if she saw her husband’s face in one of the puzzle squares, as if all of the little squares were swimming around and trying to join together to form into a different configuration—her husband’s face. Essie blinked. She sat upright and looked around. She stared at the TV. The news anchor on the morning show was staring straight into the camera delivering the news. Everything seemed just fine. She must have just been dreaming.

  “Stupid eyes!” she said to herself, and punched the side of her head slightly with the palm of her hand. “Come on, Essie! Get it together!” She squeezed her eyes tightly almost as if she was exercising them. Squeezing her pencil with renewed vigor, she squinted at the puzzle squares again, looking from one small square to another. She attempted to connect one line of squares going across to those going up and down so that she could figure out by default what the remaining word might be, but to no avail. She stared and stared. If I stare at it long enough, I’ll surely figure it out!

  The puzzle squares again suddenly morphed into the face of her dead husband. Essie froze. She slammed the clipboard back on her end table.

  This is weird, she thought. I don’t think I’m dreaming. Maybe I should put some water on my face. Carefully, Essie extracted herself from her recliner and used her walker to rise from the cushion. She rolled cautiously into her small bathroom where she stared at her face in the mirror. Everything seemed fine. She removed her glasses and bent over and turned on the faucet and splashed some cold water on her face, giving herself a nice brisk shiver.

  “Now, what?” she asked out loud. “Should I go on to breakfast? Or dare I take one more try at my puzzle?” As she continued to stare at her round, pink face in the mirror, she contemplated the possibilities. People did “see” things from time to time. They had daydreams—just like real dreams. It might just be that simple. Of course, it could be something bad. She might be going crazy—something she dreaded.

  She’d often thought that if she started to lose her faculties, she’d rather just not go on. And so far, she was sharp as a tack. She had her puzzles to prove that. And all of the many mysteries that she’d solved at Happy Haven. If she got physically sick but was still able to think properly, she reasoned, she would be all right. But, she thought, if I lose my mind, if I start imagining things that aren’t really there, they’d put me in a facility where I wouldn’t have the independence that I do here at Happy Haven. I just couldn’t stand that.

  She dried off her face and replaced her glasses. Heading back to the living room, she sat back in the recliner. Grabbing the clipboard, she carefully lifted her pen and placed it on the unfinished segment of the puzzle. Checking the clue which said ‘meek’ she suddenly was struck by an answer that fit perfectly into the appropriate squares. Humble! She quickly wrote the word into the puzzle. “It’s done!” she said, smiling to herself. She continued to stare at the completed puzzle. None of the squares morphed into John’s face.

  It was probably just a fluke, she mused. I was worried over nothing. And I completed another puzzle. Hardly an indication of someone losing her mind! She rocked back in her recliner and smiled. Then, glancing down at her watch, she realized that the breakfast hour was passing quickly. Oh, my! I’d better get going if I want to get any waffles today! She pushed down on her footrest and scooted herself out of the chair. Taking her walker, she dr
ove herself through her front door and down the hallway to the dining hall.

  Seeing other residents, Essie greeted each by name as she usually did every day. She prided herself on knowing all of the residents and when a new person moved into Happy Haven, Essie would make it her duty to meet them. Before heading into the dining hall, she stopped at her mailbox. There were no items in her box on the lower level, but as she was standing up and turning around toward the dining hall, she saw someone heading down the side hall behind the mailboxes towards the kitchen. She didn’t know the man’s name but she did recognize him as the new resident who had told the wonderful war story at Fright Night.

  “Now, what’s he doing going back there?” she asked herself.

  CHAPTER TEN

  “If we knew what it was we were doing, it would not be called research, would it?”

  ––Albert Einstein

  Quickly, Essie rolled her walker down the side hallway following the new resident as he slipped quietly past the kitchen entrance and out the back entrance to Happy Haven. Essie stopped her sturdy vehicle mid-hallway and leaned against her handlebars. That man could move! He was surely at least in his mid-seventies, if not eighties, and he didn’t even use a cane and he had zipped through the hall like some youngster. Now, Essie could see him in the distance outside through the round glass windows on the double doors that led to the back of Happy Haven. He was pacing around on the concrete driveway, hands in back pockets, looking up and down the lightly traveled residential street behind their facility.

  “What in the whole wobbly world?” she mumbled softly. Why would a resident wait for someone at the back entrance? And why outside in this nippy fall weather?

  The man looked around and frequently back at the entrance door as if he expected someone to follow him outside. He checked his watch.

  Essie didn’t know what to do. Should she remain standing in the hallway watching the new man outside, risking the chance that he might suddenly return inside and catch her spying on him? Or should she forget that she’d even tracked him way behind the kitchen and return back to the dining hall and meet her pals for breakfast?