Zan
I was in a hospital. On a hospital bed. Behind a tacky pastel curtain. I could hear voices and machines beeping. There was an I.V. pole beside me with a bag of clear fluid and a line from it to my arm. My mouth was dry as a desert and I cleared my throat and croaked, “Hello?”
The curtain slid aside with a flourish. “Hi, there, sleepy head.” A munchkin of a person with dark brown curls and rosy cheeks came up to the bed. She was wearing scrubs with bright-colored puzzle pieces all over them and was painfully loud and disgustingly cheerful. My head was killing me, I felt like I might vomit, and I desperately wanted to know if the dogs were okay. Somehow I managed to ask her.
“Your neighbors are caring for them, dear,” she assured me. “You asked me that earlier, twice now. Same answer.”
Then I must have dozed off, because she was still there but I couldn’t remember what she’d told me.
“I’m sorry. I just need to know…”
“I know, sweetie,” she said, patting my hand. “You’re concerned about you doggies. They’re okay, okay? I’m closing the curtain again, honey. Get some rest.”
Nancy, I reminded myself. Her name was Nancy. How did I know that?
~~~
I’d thought about putting medication in their food, not knowing who would take them—certainly not all three of them—and I couldn’t bear the thought of splitting the babies up. My dilemma had been that I didn’t have enough to kill them and myself too. I sat on the floor in front of their bowls, hugging them and crying. Asking them to forgive me. They kept whining and trying to get in my lap, all at the same time.
So, I’d sent a text to Olivia telling her they would need to be rescued. Olivia checked her messages so seldom, I figured I had plenty of time. I remember wondering if there were enough pills in the amber container, and I wondered if wine was a good way to wash them down or would something stronger be better. Google was no help. Everything after that is fuzzy.
~~~
Mindy had been here. Could be more than once. I heard her voice, heard her say she’d be back. Ruined her holiday, for sure. I guess in her life I would be classified as a therapist’s failure. I hoped she didn’t take it personally. She’d done her best. Seeing Trevor and me on Christmas Eve was no doubt an inconvenience for her and it was a total failure. I could see the horror on her face. Even I couldn’t have predicted how openly he would show his true colors. I thought he might at least try to fake it to protect his image, but he was devoid of anything close to compassion.
I reasoned that if I’d told him about the rape right after it happened, instead of two years later, he’d’ve reacted differently. And this is where Ruby would say, “Bollocks.” Who was I kidding? A wife with no drama, that was what Trevor wanted. Barbie with brains, sure, but no baggage. The thought of having to ‘support me as I dealt with my trauma’? Too much for him. As I predicted. And get this: we never got to the other stuff that happened before him. None of it. He didn’t even know—and now never would—about my brain-damaged sister. My trips to Pennsylvania were easily explained as shopping trips, if he were to ask, and he never did. As much as my husband had traveled, it was easy to keep messy things from him.
He needed an orderly life, but when Mindy asked him to think about what I needed from him, it was pretty clear he didn’t comprehend what she was saying. We could both see the panic on his face. As far as he knew, I’d never needed anything from him. Put money in the account, swing by home every six to eight weeks to fuck his wife, then leave again when it was time to go. Rinse and repeat. It was what I wanted, too, the leaving part, anyway. Mindy called it avoiding intimacy.
In the end, though, it wasn’t Trevor’s reaction that sent me to the medicine cabinet. It was much more complicated than that.
Nancy slid my curtain back again and stuck her smiling face in. “You’ve got a visitor.”
“Who?”
“It’s your sister.”
I must have looked blank.
“Olivia,” she said.
Olivia
As soon as I saw Zan’s text about the dogs, I panicked. Why would she need someone to rescue her dogs? I called Zeke and he called the police in College Park who advised him that Zan Bitton had been taken by ambulance to a hospital in Tahoma Park. He told me to tell the staff that I was her sister. “Or they won’t be able to give you any information. HIPPA rules. They may not anyway.”
I was in luck. When my call was transferred to Zan’s floor, a nurse claimed to have been trying to locate a family member and told me that the patient had mentioned a sister but didn’t give a name. The nurse also said that Zan’s neighbors had dialed 911 and reported non-stop barking. Even though the owner’s vehicle was in the driveway. My so-called sister was recovering in a private room after having been first in ICU.
The kind nurse, Nancy, said she could tell me nothing else, which was more than she should have without proof of a familial relationship. “I’m trusting you are who you say you are,” she said. Then she asked me if I could give her names of any other relatives. I told them of our ‘other’ sister’s situation, which was not helpful but gave me a little credibility as at least not a stranger. And I asked if her husband, Trevor, had been notified. It was then that I learned Zan had denied knowledge of where Trevor was and claimed to not have his phone number. I knew that to be a lie. Surely something terrible had happened to cause this.
Mrs. Baumgarten was able to stay with the children, and I made reservations to fly to Maryland. The only flight was in the afternoon, which would cause me to arrive in the early evening. It was bitter cold, but the snow had stopped for now, and the flight was not delayed.
I arrived at 5:00. Unsure of how long I would stay, I took a taxi to the hospital. When the nurse pulled back the curtain, Zan looked small and pale in that bed. I pressed my hand to my mouth in disbelief. I must have made a sound of shock.
“Olivia, I didn’t mean—” She began to cry, which of course forced my tears to fall as well, for the pain in my broken heart was great.
“Hush, hush now. Of course you did not mean it. You are much stronger than you think, and you will discover this now. You have been given a second chance—”
“No, no. I didn’t mean for you to come all this way—”
“I believe you, Zannie, but I had to. You have no family, except for Trevor—”
She looked startled. “You didn’t call him did you?” She gripped my hand.
“I could not have done that. Not without his phone number. Or his last name, Mia Dios. And besides, I would never do such a thing, unless you asked me to.” I brushed her hair back from her forehead and felt her warm brow. I could see fine scars along the side of her face, now clean of makeup. That this beautiful woman was unable to accept herself the way God intended for her to look made more tears fill my eyes.
“Oh, Olivia, please don’t.”
“Tell me, my friend, how can I help you?”
“Just sit here with me for a little bit, please.”
I sat and held her hand and allowed my feelings to be with me. All of my problems with my sister had never led me to feel as desperate as Zan must have felt to do this thing. I said a silent prayer for the Blessed Mother to help my friend see her worth.
Zan looked out the window. “It’s dark,” she said. “I’ll give you the keys to my house and car, and if you will please, can you take a taxi there and spend the night? It isn’t far from here. My dogs will love you. The neighbors are feeding them, but I bet they’re confused—the dogs, I mean. Take my clothes from the plastic bag in there”—she pointed to a small closet. “When they smell them, it’ll comfort them. Bring my car and come back tomorrow, please?”
“Of course I will.”
~~~
The dogs’ barking at the front door was a commotion like I had never heard. Remembering Zan’s instructions, I pushed the door open a crack and allowed them to get a whiff of her clothes, and then they cried happy sounds and greeted me with such enthusiasm, I was sure they would burst with excitement. Three furry white mountains of pure joy twirled around and begged to be petted. I did my best to assure them as I stood in the foyer.
At that moment, the doorbell rang, and the barking deafened me. As I stood with my hands over my ears, I could hear a woman’s voice calling out over the noise, “I’m Zan’s neighbor, hon.” The dogs stopped barking when they heard her voice, and they wagged and cried again with joy. Someone they knew had come to visit. I could almost hear their thoughts.
She was bundled up with a huge puffy coat, and she wore a wool hat tied under her chin. Her lips were blue. “Please come in out of the cold.”
“Marlene,” she said as she grasped my hand with her glove. She was the friendliest woman, making cooing sounds to the doggies, and it was clear that they were fans of hers. “Can’t stay, darlin’, I just heard these brutes making’ that racket. Zan called to tell me you were coming. She’s not makin’ much sense, is she?”
Before I could answer, she went on, “And I wanted to make sure you’re okay. And, to let you know we’re here.” She gestured to her left as she held onto the door frame to avoid being knocked over by the dogs pushing each other out of the way. Then she shooed them away, and finally they left us to tumble around together in the sunken living room. I thought they must feel that it was now alright to play.
“Will you not come in–”
“No, no. Can’t stay.”
I did not ask, but she began telling me her story about that night as if she could not wait to tell someone.
“We saw Zan at her mailbox. She was just standin’ there still as a statue with a letter in her hand and staring at it—without a coat on, no less. In that nasty weather. I could see her shiverin’ even. I almost went out to see if she was okay, but by the time I got my coat on, she must ‘a gone back in the house.”
“That was so kind of you—”
“Then, later, we were worried to hear the dogs barking. Zan’s car was sittin’ right there in the driveway.” She pointed to the right. “I thought, ‘that isn’t right’, ya know? So we tried knockin’ real hard on the door and got no answer. Then I remembered the key Zan had given me for emergencies. Ages ago it was.”
“It is such a blessing that you did—”
“We found her.” She looked away, as if remembering the disturbing sight. “Then we called 911.”
“I am so glad you did that—”
“It was the dogs’ non-stop barking that was distressin’ for us,” she said. “They bark, but not like that. We knew somethin’ was wrong.”
“I am so grateful.” I felt my throat close up, realizing that this talkative woman had saved my friend’s life. “And that you have been taking such good care of these doggies.”
“We love them, my husband and I. We do. They’re noisy, I’ll admit, but such fun. So sweet. You tell Zan I’m more than willin’ to keep on looking in on ‘em and makin’ sure they get exercise and company, and of course food. You tell her not to worry, okay?”
“She will be glad to hear that, but I believe she thinks she will be coming home tomorrow.”
“Oh.” She paused, looking doubtful. “Well, I hope so, for her sake. You know, we always thought Trevor to be a bit of an odd duck. We invited them—through him—to come over for drinks not too long after they moved in, and he said, ‘No thanks’. Simple as that.”
“I did not know him at all.”
“You didn’t miss anything. Tell Zan those dogs can even come and spend the night with us when you leave if it’s before she gets back home, if she wants. It may be longer than she thinks. And keep me posted, will you?”
“I will, Marlene. And, again, I am so grateful to you—”
“Nah, it was nothin’. You take care.” And with that she was running back across the yard to her home, not waiting for any response from me.
Then I saw that my phone was filled with text messages from Ruby and Margo wanting to know how Zan was and what they should do. I called Ruby and talked to her voice mail.
“I saw Zan and talked with her, but I know very little as of now. I will call you tomorrow after my visit with her. Tell Margo, please. And do not worry.”
Then I called Zeke to let him know I was staying at least for one more day. “She looked so vulnerable. It broke my heart. I don’t know how to help her.”
“You are helping her, Olivia. What she needs is a friend right now, someone who cares about her,” he said. “You’re doing the right thing.”
Finally, I texted Matias. I asked him to inform his sister and Mrs. Baumgarten that I was fine and would update them tomorrow.
By that time I was yawning—spent from the emotional day. Seeing that the dog bowls were filled with food and water, and not wanting to explore that huge house, I went to bed in the closest of the guest rooms. I was joined by Zan’s three white dogs. One settled beside the bed and the other two curled up just inside the door. In spite of being in a strange place, I felt safe.
Pat Ponders Life 