Red White and Black

Chapter Twenty Five - Part A

Sadie

Sadie yawned and stretched her legs. The early morning exertions on her knees while replanting the roses had taken their toll, leaving her stiff and sore. She glanced at the clock on the wall and realized it was already late afternoon. She must have dozed off in spite of the disconcerting machinery attached to Estelle Morris. Through the window a canopy of dark, roiling clouds crept across the sky leaving little doubt a nasty summer storm was brewing. She smiled to herself knowing another prayer had been answered. Maybe them roses gonna be saved after all.

The elderly woman had remained in the exact same position without moving a muscle the entire day. Lord, you can heal her. If'n your of a mind. I know you can. Sadie drew comfort from her prayer, intentionally avoiding the thought that she herself might one day end up in a hospital bed attached to the machines. If she allowed herself to think those type of thoughts, shivers would run down her spine regardless of how much faith she had. She knew from a lifetime of harsh experience that all the faith in the world still wouldn't make the unpleasant things any more pleasant. Sometimes folk had to walk down a rugged, dangerous road and faith never made it any less rugged. It just made it so she knew that hard road would one day end. And Lord, when is my rugged road gonna be endin? I've walked a long time down this one and it would sure be mighty fine to finally set my tired old feet on some smooth travelin' for awhile.

The words of Brother Gibbs came back to her and she had to laugh; whoever would think of her as a diamond? 'Cause if this is the life of a diamond, I got to be thinkin' gravel or a big old chunk a coal just might be a bit better.

A nurse bustled in holding a clipboard and clicking a ballpoint pen in time with a rhythm known only to her. Seeing Sadie, she allowed a faint smile to cross her face. Sadie was sure that lone smile put the nurse over her allotment of pleasantries for the day.

"We'll be wheeling the patient down for some tests in a few moments, and she'll be there for at least an hour. You might as well get something to eat or go stretch your legs, it'll be pretty quiet up here."

"I promised her son I would keep watch over her. I can't leave."

The nurse nodded. "I know. And I certainly wouldn't want to be the one who got that man upset with me but don't worry. You aren't even allowed in the same room where we conduct the test, so you're off the hook."

Sadie stifled a yawn while her stomach growled loud enough to draw the attention of the nurse. "And see that? You probably haven't had a thing to eat all day. There's a cafeteria down on the main level. Go on down there and get yourself some food."

An aide joined the nurse and together they shifted Estelle to a gurney and rolled her out of the room. She turned at the doorway and cupped her hand to her mouth, "Get food. I'm a nurse. I know what I'm talking about."

Sadie smiled and nodded, the rumbling in her stomach confirming her need to eat. Then the thought of Sammy Morris walking in and finding an empty room occurred. He would jump to the conclusion she had abandoned his mother by leaving her post, confirming his opinion that she couldn't be trusted. She dug a pen out of her purse and jotted a note describing what had happened, just in case he managed to return during her absence. Guilt threatened to keep her pinned to her chair but another rumble convinced her to follow the nurse's directive.

Like every previous of her hospital experiences, it took only a few moments before Sadie became lost in a maze of identical corridors dotted with signs containing incomprehensible symbols and language. It was obvious the health care industry had incorporated a method of communication known only to doctors and such, forcing laymen into perpetual reliance and subservience.

She nervously glanced at her watch, planning to be back in Estelle's room before the hour had passed, but upset to see fifteen minutes had already ticked away. After several fruitless rounds of endless hallways lined with identical doors, she interrupted a stooped janitor with a deeply lined face who patiently mopped what appeared to be an already pristine floor. He halted his efforts and mumbled directions to the cafeteria with the bored ease of one who had issued these same instructions countless times before. She thanked him, only mildly embarrassed the cafeteria entrance turned out to be just around the next corner and joined several other people in line shoving plastic trays down a stainless steel food assembly line. Some were doctors, nurses, and other hospital staff, talking and joking amongst themselves, studiously avoiding interaction with the commoners. The non-hospital folk, or commoners, as Sadie began to call them, all wore the same haggard and beleaguered expression she herself wore. They were worried or exhausted or both.

She sat a table, alone in a crowded room, mechanically chewing an egg salad sandwich that tasted how she would have expected cardboard to taste. A doctor and a pair of nurses sat within a few feet chatting about the ignorance and apparent stupidity of their administrator and his abhorrent policies but ignoring her as though she were a piece of furniture. Sadie smiled to herself when she noticed the half eaten egg salad sandwiches discarded on the plates of the nurses. At least they don't eat any better than me!

A shrill beeping erupted from the belt of the doctor. He pulled a pager free and swore under his breath.

"Gotta get back to the grindstone, ladies," he said, rising to his feet. "No rest for the wicked, you know."

The nurses laughed in unison as though he were the wittiest man on earth and they were his greatest fans. Sadie rolled her eyes and popped the last bite of the cardboard flavored egg salad into her mouth. She glanced at her watch and noted only thirty five minutes had passed since they had hauled Estelle away, still too early to return.

The nurses resumed their conversation, this time leaning close across the table and glancing around to ensure no one could easily overhear. Their efforts did little to prevent Sadie from discovering their mutual amorous admiration for the recently departed doctor and his myriad of physical attributes. Sadie began to feel conspicuous, as if inadvertently reading someone else's private mail. She picked up her tray and carried it to the disposal area, leaving the love struck nurses pondering whether the doctor would look better in a tuxedo or a swimsuit.

Faced again with the labyrinth of corridors, Sadie wandered aimlessly in hopes of recognizing a sign that would direct her to familiar ground. She pushed open a heavy door and spied a long counter buzzing with activity under a sign reading "Emergency Services." Here, doctors and nurses performed an intricate dance, moving from patient to patient with practiced ease, balancing clipboards and charts, wielding trays and medications, or pushing bulky equipment into place. All the while, anxious family members played their part in the dance, trying console the sick and injured while remaining unobtrusive to the caregivers. They wore nearly identical expressions of concern and fatigue despite their efforts to provide comfort to their ailing friends or family.

In the midst of the frenzy moved a man seemingly out of place in a sea of white uniforms in his rumpled dark suit. He occasionally stopped at a bedside to pat the hand of a patient or hug a grieving mother, doling out assurances as only a member of the clergy could. It took Sadie a moment to realize it was Brother Gibbs, her own pastor. Across the corridor, she caught his eye and he waved her over.

"Sister Sadie!" he exclaimed. "What on earth brings you down here? Is everything okay? Did something happen to Markus?"

"No, no, Brother Gibbs. Nothin' like that." She explained her involvement with Estelle Morris.

Relieved, Brother Gibbs continued. "Sister, you have no idea how happy that makes me. Especially in light of this young man back here."