*****
“Today’s the day.” A nurse spoke loudly as she slid open the door.
I turned to face her. Today, like most days, I had been sitting on the tallboy staring out the window at the clouds above, watching them move slowly across the forever-blue skies. They gently bumped into each other and then drifted apart again, changing their form as they moved.
It was a cruel pleasure to sit and watch them. Many times, I believed I could feel Sasha’s little fingers hold my hand as I stared at the clouds, and for split seconds, I would forget my reality no longer had her in it. For the tiniest of moments, I would forget that I was alone, and I would look to the door in anticipation of Michael and Sasha bursting through it. Then reality would crash down upon me. Every time it did, I felt as though I was losing them all over again. I was angry with myself for surviving. I should have died with them—eternally at peace.
The nurse was holding a blue backpack and a folded piece of paper. “Today is your last day.” She waved the piece of paper in the air excitedly. “Your discharge papers,” she sang happily, “although we will be sad to see you leave.”
“Really? Has it been a month already?” I asked, genuinely surprised that today marked a month.
When I had first woken in the hospital bed, all I wanted to do was leave, to run away, to hide from the outside world and convince myself it was all a dream. When Tess had told me I would be doing ‘no such thing’ and that I would remain a guest of hers for possibly months, I resented her. Now I realised I couldn’t have left any earlier. Even as I sat on the tallboy and watched the clouds, I was unsure whether I was ready to face the world again, because, for the first time, I would be facing it alone.
“Tess wanted me to tell you that she’d sign this ...” she held up my discharge papers, “if you take this—without a fuss.” The nurse smiled kindly, as she lifted the backpack onto the bed. Tess had obviously warned her of my potential stubbornness.
I looked at her quizzically. “What is it?” I slid down from the drawers.
“Well, it’s mainly from Tess, but the rest of us chipped in a few things too.” She beamed as she unzipped the bag and pulled out a pair of blue jeans, a white t-shirt and a pair of sneakers.
“Tess said her daughter doesn’t want these clothes anymore so she’s giving them to you.” She carefully put the clothes down on the bed. “There are a few more shirts and another pair of pants in here; might be a few pairs of socks too.”
“Oh Tess,” I said as I pulled on the jeans. It felt so good to be wearing something other than the paper-thin clothes the hospital offered.
“I think there might be a hair brush in the bottom of the bag.” The nurse smiled. “You’ll also find a voucher for the Heavenly Day Spa from some of us here. We think you more than deserve some pampering after—everything,” she said discreetly. She quickly reverted to nurse mode by adding, “Now your meds are in there with a script for refills. Just take them as you have been, but make sure you keep them stored in a cool, dry place.”
She was about to say something else when the buzzer around her waist began to beep. “Sorry, I can’t stay and talk. Another patient needs me,” she said as she walked towards the door. Before she left, she turned back and said, “Oh, and Tess says to meet her outside before you go. Good luck, Alexandra. You’ll be great. Just don’t dwell on the past.” She smiled a warm smile and disappeared through the door.
I walked to the mirror in the bathroom and pulled my hair into a high ponytail, eyeing my new necklace. It hung beautifully around my neck and sat perfectly in the centre of my chest. I was still not sure that it belonged to me, though, as I had no recollection of ever wearing such an item. Maybe a family member requested it to be placed on a relative and one of the nurses mistook me for them. Either way, it was mine now.
The shirt I had been given was about a size too big, but I wasn’t complaining. I threw the backpack over one of my shoulders and headed towards the doorway of my room. I turned back, ensuring I hadn’t left anything behind. It was such a strange feeling to realise I had absolutely nothing that I could have left behind. Except for the necklace, all that I owned now was what Tess had given me. It made me appreciate the gesture even more.
I walked towards the sliding door that separated me from the outside world. I stood still and stared at the doors, feeling both trepidation and anticipation for my uncertain future. From the moment I awoke in the hospital, I envisaged the day I would leave here; leave the pain behind me and find my place in the world again. Now that day had arrived, I was afraid. Beyond those doors lay a world unknown to me. Was it to be cold and lonely, or might I be able to find happiness in a world without Michael and Sasha?
As I inched closer, the doors slid open. I stepped through to the outside and immediately felt the sun on my face. It was warm and gentle on my skin, much kinder than I remembered it could be. I spotted Tess leaning next to a bricked garden bed by the car park. As I walked to her, I could tell she had been crying; her eyes were red and puffy. I had never seen her show any sign of weakness, so seeing her in this state made me feel helpless.
She leant back on the brick wall, drew in a long breath on her cigarette and blew the smoke out in a long stream into the air.
“A nurse who smokes? That’s ironic. Those things will kill you, you know?” I said with a half smile.
“Yeah well, might not be a bad thing.” She drew back on the cigarette again. “My husband’s a sick perve who likes to screw anyone but me, and my daughter—just this morning—told me she’s a lesbian, that I wouldn’t understand, and that she’s moving to Melbourne. And she never wants to see me again; she blames me for his ... tendencies.” She shook her head as she put the cigarette back to her lips. Her skinny fingers were shaking as she drew back on it.
I didn’t know what to say or how to comfort her. What could I say? I had only known Tess for a short time, but it was long enough to know that beneath the harsh exterior, she was a very kind and caring woman. She must have been deeply hurt by her husband’s betrayal and her daughter’s rejection. She squashed out the cigarette in the garden behind her. “Here, take this,” she said as she handed me a long white envelope.
“Really, you have given me so much already Tess—” I began to protest.
“Take the damn envelope,” she snapped, as she pulled another cigarette from her pocket.
I reluctantly took the envelope and slowly peeled the back lip open. I had expected to see another voucher or perhaps a pre-paid motel room booking for a few nights, but instead, the envelope was filled with hundred dollar notes. I flicked my fingers through it, astonished.
“There’s a cheque in there too,” Tess said as she continued drawing on the cigarette, her face averted.
There was indeed a cheque. I pulled it from the envelope to read the details; it was made out in my name for an amount of $60,000.
“Oh my God, Tess! I can’t accept this! I only met you a few weeks ago.” I put the cheque and money back into the envelope and handed it back to her.
“Like hell you’re not taking it,” she said, turning to look straight at me. “Alexandra, you don’t have anything but the shirt on your back and technically even that belongs to me. Now, you haven’t had one visitor, not even so much as a card or a phone call. You don’t have a handbag or purse. You are the definition of alone. You’re taking that cheque, getting to the closest bank and banking it. Forget about your family—forget about everything. Get on a bus and keep going until you’re a million miles away from this shit hole before it kills you too.” She drew another long drag back on the cigarette. “You do what I can’t; start your life over and actually live it.” She looked around at the hospital in resentment. “I have worked in this hospital for longer than I care to admit, and for what? Alexandra, you have your whole life in front of you. For Christ’s sakes, don’t throw it away.”
“You’re not thinking straight Tess; you’re upset. People don’t just go around handing out thou
sands of dollars to strangers.” I began to protest. “You don’t even know me. I might have plenty of money stashed away.”
I tried to persuade her to re-claim the money. The truth was, I knew the house I shared with Michael wasn’t ours; we’d only rented it. We lived a very simple life without much in the way of material things, so I doubted there would have been much in any bank accounts. Tess was right—all that I had was what she had given me.
I shook my head and looked at my feet. “I can’t Tess. I can’t take the money, and I can’t leave. I’m not ready.” I pushed my lips together, trying to hold in my emotions. “I haven’t even said goodbye—”
She put her hand on her hip and pointed at me with her cigarette. “Said goodbye to whom? Alexandra, what have you been saying the entire time you’ve been in the hospital? Your family is dead—gone. If you go to a cemetery, you will see a lump of rock with some words scribed into it, and beneath it ... beneath it lies rotting carcasses—not your loved ones.”
“I can’t just walk away!” I pressed my hands onto my hips and stared straight at her.
“Yes, you can!” She shook her head. “Right.” She put her hand into her other pocket and pulled out a mobile phone. “The deal was I’d sign your discharge papers if you had someone to keep an eye on you when you left; so here you go—call a friend.” She held out her phone.
I looked at it but didn’t move. I had no one to call. My life had only existed with Michael and Sasha. I didn’t need anyone but them. I didn’t even know the phone numbers of my neighbours.
“No friends? How about a general acquaintance?” She lifted one eyebrow daring me to take the phone.
I turned away and looked over the city, which today seemed to be emptier than ever.
“You have nothing here, Alexandra. If you stay here, it will kill you. Leave.” She stared out over the city with me. “What if it was you who died? Would you want them to mourn your absence forever?” Her voice was different now. It wasn’t firm and bossy; it was soft and kind.
I looked down at the envelope I held in my left hand. “But Tess—sixty thousand dollars? That’s just too much.”
“Bullshit! I’d give you more, but the prick moved some money into another account before I could withdraw it from our joint account.” She looked me square in the eye. “It will piss him off to no end when I tell him where his whore money has gone.” She smiled wryly. “I’d pay ten times that amount to think of him, my husband, at the whore house begging to screw one of the girls and having the card decline over and over again.” She narrowed her eyes as she drew in on the cigarette again. I could tell she was playing out the scenario in her mind and it was bringing her great pleasure.
“But won’t you use it? I mean it could be a good start for you. Why don’t you get on a bus and go—” I flew my hands around to the train station, which was nearby.
She shook her head. “Nah, I’ve got cancer. I’ll be lucky to outlive the year.” She answered bluntly and plainly, as though she had just ordered a hamburger. “I am dying, Alexandra; I am dying with a failed marriage and a daughter who has disowned me. I am filled with memories of a career that consumed most of my life. Let me die knowing I’ve made a real difference to at least one person’s life—just take the money.”
“Oh, Tess.” I went to throw my arms around her, to hug her, to comfort her.
She stepped away from me immediately. “Get off with your sympathy. If this shit is what is going to take me, that’s fine. But I’m going out in a big way, and quickly.” She held up her now third cigarette. “I’ve seen cancer patients. I’ve fed them all the shit about how it won’t be too bad—blah, blah, blah. And if I do live through the sleepless nights, the shit-stained sheets, the never-ending pain, what do I have left?” She shook her head and snuffed out her unfinished cigarette.
She strode towards the hospital. “Send me a postcard from wherever you end up,” she called without looking back. She walked through the sliding doors and they snapped shut behind her.
I stood motionless, holding the envelope in my hand, as I stared at the closed doors. I was hoping she would change her mind and come back to retrieve the envelope from me, but the doors remained tightly closed.
“Are you coming, Miss … Miss?” I heard a man call.
I turned to see where the voice had come from. Tess and I had been speaking near the bus stop; the bus driver was waiting for me to board.
I looked at him, then looked down to the envelope. Tess had scribbled across the front of it: ‘New beginnings - don’t screw it up!’
I swallowed hard. “Yeah, I’m coming.”