Moving Day

The questioning went on until the EMT's put Mary in their bus and started out the driveway. I looked at the officer and said, "I don't have a car here. Can you take me to the hospital to answer any of their questions? We can continue your Q & A there."

He studied me for a few seconds then started speaking into his shoulder mike. I could hear both sides of the conversation but it was almost all those police codes. The only thing I recognized was the hospital's name.

A couple of other police cars pulled up near my door on the lawn. As the new arrivals walked up to the door I was informed that during my "ride" they wanted "to look around" and would secure the house when they left. I doubted that they would repair the damage to the lawn that their tires caused,

The Trooper put me in the back seat where the doors had no inside handles and the windows don't open. When I started to protest, he said, "Rules. No civilians in front."

I had a high speed ride to the hospital. My Trooper talked on the radio as we were arriving. I suspected he was getting the "all clear" because I was allowed out of the back seat. After I got Mary admitted and signed to be responsible for the costs, I was allowed to see her.

The Trooper followed along still asking questions. If anything, he was persistent.

Mary was in one of those small cubicles created by drawn curtains. There were oxygen tubes in her nose and an IV on a pole by her side. She was hooked up to various monitoring devices, her eyes were closed. My heart sank.

I was a mix of confusing emotions. On one hand I still wanted to hate her for all the years of loneliness and pain. But I still had that human compassion for the sick and injured. I wanted my lover 'Ann' to hold me and help me sort out these feelings. But 'Ann' was at our home in Hollywood, California and I was here alone.

I felt she wasn't going to make it.

A couple of nurses accompanied by an orderly interrupted my thoughts of impending doom. "We're going to keep her over night. We have a room upstairs for her."

Then the other nurse who had been quiet looked at me and said, "She's going to be OK. Her vital signs are good and the Doc said her heart sounded strong. In a couple of days she'll be as good as new. Then you can take her back home."

"Home?" I thought, "She doesn't have a home as near as I can tell."

Well since it was still early evening in California, I'd better call "Ann" and explain the situation.

I spent the next 30 minutes being drilled by "Ann." She was tougher than the Trooper was on me. When she was finally satisfied she said,

"Stay with her until we can access the circumstances. If you need to, and she agrees, please bring her out here to California. I know the kids would like to see her again and I'd like to meet her."

The hospital kept Mary about a week. I stayed by her side mainly because she wouldn't let go of my hand. She would wake up, look at me see I was still there, and then she'd start to cry again. The police and FBI questioned her about the last 20 years. After they finished, I had learned what a hell Mary's last 20 years were.

After the police got her story, I called "Ann." I told her everything I had learned about Mary's last 20 years. We were both crying when "I finished.

One day when I returned from my hotel room, all freshly showered and in some clean clothes, Mary's door was closed. I assumed they were doing something to her that required privacy until I saw the new sign on the door, "Biohazard, Do not enter!"

One of the nurses led me to a small conference room. Soon a doctor joined me.

He started by saying, "There is no easy was to begin this conversation. Mary has AIDS. It is very advanced and well past our treating it. She has about 6-7 months left to live."

He stopped talking when he noticed the tears running down my face. I felt so damn sorry for her. All those years living in sub human conditions, getting clean and finding her way back to me, only to have all her hard work rewarded with a death sentence. "Life just wasn't fair!" I fumed.

That afternoon, I called "Ann" and updated her.

When I finished "Ann" said, "Bring her home to us. She doesn't deserve to die alone."

It took another week but I was able to arrange transportation. Well actually "Ann" arranged it. Her show biz name carried a lot more weight than mine did. Mary and I flew west on a private jet donated by a business acquaintance of "Ann's".

"Ann" and I moved Mary into our home complete with a health aid to help her. I still remember the first time Mary saw our daughter Jackie and her husband Edward. Jackie was 7 months pregnant and looked as if she was at least 10 months.

Mary just erupted into tears, but when Jackie tried to hug her she pushed Jackie away. "No I'm dirty. I have AIDS and I won't do anything to harm you or your baby."

"Ann" and I left the three of them to get acquainted. They stayed in Mary's room until dinner.

That night as Jackie left she said, "Dad I'll be back tomorrow. I need to know my mother before it's too late."

For the rest of Mary's stay with us Jackie was there almost every day. She only missed 4 days and that's when she gave birth. The new parents named the baby Mary Ann. When "Ann" told Mary the good news, they both had a good cry.

Jackie brought little Mary Ann to meet her grandmothers. Yes "Ann" was now my wife. The baby was a charm but the grandmothers cried their eyes out. It was the first baby for "Ann" and first grandchild for Mary. Mary would never hold little Mary because of the risk of cross infecting her.

As an aside, my son never visited his mother. He felt that she deserted him and he never could forgive her. After I explained his feelings to Mary, she cried but never mentioned him again.

The next six months passed quickly, way too quickly. Mary was slowly slipping away from us.

One morning when the aid arrived it was discovered that Mary had passed away in her sleep.

We had Mary cremated and keep her ashes in an urn on a decorative little pavilion in the garden. There is a small bench there.

At regular interval we would take turns sitting down and bring her up to date on family things.

I hope she finally found the peace she longed for.

The End

© October 2011 by Mendon Fishers