“When I was your age, I was quite the wild one. Ahhh that look, that ‘sure granny’ look, well if you don’t believe me.”
The underpaid nurse attempting to spoon feed the elderly lady sat, heaped spoon waiting for a pause between words.
“I had quite the adventure, back when I was twenty-two, I never told your mam about this one”
Susie suppressed a sigh, every resident took her as a different relative. They used a warm, familiar tone with her, looking into her eyes, and seeing those of another. She’d given up correcting them, not one of them could remember her name.
“It was during the war, your grandpa worked intelligence out of one of those top secret northern bunkers, that’s where he got that compass you used to love playing with.”
There was something about never been seen as herself that was starting to eat at Susie. At first, she’d pitied them, unable to see things for what they were, but as time went by, every word spoken to her, meant for another, began to cut.
“It’s been two months since i’d had a letter from him, and well, you can imagine what I thought when a man in uniform knocked at the door.”
Finally catching a pause in the residents flow, Susie swooped in with a spoon full of buttery mash, beaded with peas. For loud, sloppy moments the lady chewed, and trying to draw on her compassion, Susie smiled, scooping up another spoonful.
“Well my heart dropped and I nearly fainted before he could speak. That awkward young officer grabbed my hands, looking me firm in the eyes, ‘He’s not dead Mrs Ellerton, he’s fine, I just need you to come with me’. I’ve never packed a bag so fast in my life!”
Susie quickly exploited the dramatic moment, dropped another spoon of mash, this time laked with stewed beef and gravy, into the open mouth. She used to hate herself for finding those too far gone to chatter away easier, avoiding the talkers, but despite her best evasions, she’d got stuck with conversational Mrs Ellerton today.
“We sped down those country roads, whizzing up north, in hours. He told me nothing on the way, offering only that Nick would tell me when we got there. I’d had no idea what to bring, and had frantically thrown everything I could think of into my bag, as we drove up I began to realise all the things i’d not thought of, but there was no turning back, I could tell by the way that officer gripped the wheel we were in a hurry!”
Mrs Ellerton wasn’t letting up, Susie glanced at the clock, her shift was due to finish in ten minutes, but she couldn’t go anywhere until the old bag wrapped it up. Putting the spoon down, she tried to fight the rising anger, and decided to try and get Mrs Ellerton to cut to the chase.
“So why had your husband had you brought there?”
"For a reason you wouldn't have thought of dear..." For a moment it seemed like Mrs. Ellerton was going to actually get to the end of the story. So Susie held back from jamming another spoonful into the slightly open mouth.
"...But the story was really in the journey up north." Instantly Susie began to regret the missed chance.
"You see, the war was getting longer and no one could predict when it was all going to come to an end. There were so many different versions of what was happening at the time that it was almost impossible to get any real news from the radio."
Susie sensed a pause was coming and refilled the spoon with anticipation.
"Nick had told me not to bother, so I had tried my best to remain calm throughout his absence." The pause came, and Susie didn't wait. Into the half open mouth went another heaped spoon of buttery mash and peas. After a long pause chewing and swallowing, Mrs. Ellerton continued...
"But sitting there in that car as I was, racing up north with that fine young soldier, I saw first hand what war is truly about." Despite the pause here, something made Susie hold back from rushing in another spoonful.
"The scenes on that road up north were painful." A drop of tear slowly escaped from one of Mrs. Ellerton's eyes. Susie placed the plate down, but didn't try to wipe the tear. Mrs. Ellerton had a distant look in her eyes..
"The grief was almost physical. It seemed like I was staring death in the face, and all the fears I had kept bottled down inside me were suddenly released. How I wept."
Susie tried to suppress the tears slowly forming in her own eyes..
"That fine young soldier was thoughtful. He didn't try to console me. He let me pour out all that I had bottled inside. And it was a lot."
"That day I witnessed what death truly feels like to the living, and I knew..." Mrs. Ellerton paused as if she had forgotten an important detail. Then as she seemed to remember, the distant look left her eyes and she looked straight at Susie..
"That day dear, I knew that it didn't make what I did or didn't pack. It only mattered what I didn't need to pack. What I already had; life, and what I could do with it. I knew that day I wanted to create life. And as soon as we got to the bunker up north where your grandpa was stationed.." Mrs. Ellerton's eyes lit up suddenly. "...We.. your grandpa and I, up north in those mountains, there we made your mam."
Susie smiled, and the tears flowed freely down her cheeks now. She picked up the plate. Somehow it was almost empty, but she had since forgotten about the meal. Mrs. Ellerton's story had had an effect on her which she didn't truly understand. She placed the plate back down on the floor, reached out and held Mrs. Ellerton's hand and looked into the old woman's eyes..
"Thank you." She said in a near whisper.
Mrs. Ellerton smiled. "I told you, when I was your age, I was quite the wild one." Then she also reduced her voice to a whisper.. "Don't Tell your mam that story. She always believed she was born abroad."
Susie smiled and squeezed Mrs. Ellerton's wrinkled hands. As she picked up the plate and left, she knew that in a matter of hours, maybe minutes even, Mrs. Ellerton would have forgotten she ever told her that story. But Susie knew she wouldn't forget, couldn't forget. It was way more than the spoonfuls of memories she had ever been fed in her years of being a nurse.
THE END
Written for @bananafish's Finish The Story Contest
I hope I did Justice to @calluna's wonderful opening...
