As The World Churns Part 16

"Dis one is so arrogant, dat one says. Tinks she is the center of the voild, another says. Oy, such chutzpah we've never seen. Of course I shtick up for you."

"Who are these people? Names. I want names."

"Too many for to name, yah? But, like I said, I tell them where they should get off at."

"Hopefully the first station."

"Vhat?"

"Never mind. All's well that ends well." Despite the reminder that I had my share of detractors, my heart was filled with latent joy. Who could have guessed that my biggest (although certainly not in size) critic would someday be a staunch supporter? Throw in the news that Ida Rosen was headed back to Brooklyn, and I was positively giddy.

"And now vee plan, yah?"

"Plan away!"

"I vas tinking dat foist vee should move back to da city, before selling da farm. You vouldn't mind selling it for us, if vee give you commission, yah?"

Mine was the gasp heard 'round the world. "Hold your horses! What is this 'we' you keep mentioning? Does that include my husband, or is it the royal 'we'? No scatological reference intended."

"Vhat? So now you speak da Amish."

"Just tell me," I said through gritted teeth, "are you planning to take Gabe with you?"

"Of course. I tell you dis, and you say fine."

"I meant that it is fine for you to go back, but not for my husband."

"He is my son!" Who knew such a thunderous sound could come from one so tiny. "He is the fruit of my looms."

"Yet far too big to be a jockey."

"Do you mock?"

"Quite often-or so I'm told. Although I'm trying to be better, I really am. Now, you listen to me, Ida Rosen. My husband isn't going anywhere with you. Not to stay. And if you don't get your f.a.n.n.y off my bed right now, and make yourself as scarce as a shadow on a rainy day, I'm calling security. Comprende?"

"Oy, the Amish again." But she did remove her b.u.t.tocks as directed, and I saw no more of her that evening.

Only the dead can sleep in a hospital, and I've no doubt that even some of them can't get a full night's rest. Nurses are forever coming in and shining lights in your face, taking your temperature, and writing full-length novels on your chart. When they tire of that, they take delight in coughing into the loudspeaker system, or dropping barbells in the hallway.

Yet somehow, I managed to sleep through breakfast, and thus, as one can well imagine, was not in the cheeriest of moods when my bedside phone rang. As usual, I prayed for a patient tongue, and, as usual, that prayer went unanswered. The phone, however, was answered.

"Just for that, you're not getting the million bucks I promised you!"

"Who is this?"

"You tell me, you're the one who called."

"Hon, it's me, Gabe. You don't sound so good."

"Your mother paid me a visit last night."

"Uh-oh. What happened?"

"She brought me supper. Then, like Judas, she kissed me on the cheek, before telling me she plans to take you back to New York with her. Permanently."

"You're kidding."

"Do I ever kid about your mother?"

"Huafa mischt," my husband said, although in English. "I can't believe she'd do that-actually, I can believe it, and it really ticks me off. I can't tell you how sorry I am." He paused wisely for several seconds. "What did you say to her in response?"

"I threatened to call security. Darling, tell me honestly, you didn't know about this in advance, did you?"

"You better be kidding now, because if not, I'm going to be angry."

"Shall I tell the truth and face the consequences?"

I could hear him counting softly to ten before speaking into the receiver. "Hon, it hurts me that you'd think, even for a second, that I would put Ma before you."

"I'm sorry you're hurting." I glanced at the bedside clock. "Say, aren't you supposed to be presiding right now? It's almost time to tally the results of round one."

He sighed. "Look, I don't want to fight. And yeah, that's why I'm calling. I did call first thing this morning, by the way, and you didn't answer. Anyway, there's something fishy going on."

"Fishy? Like what?"

"Holy guacamole! Hon, look-I'll have to call you back."

"Oh, no you don't! Don't leave me hanging like this."

There followed a lot of static, and only a smattering of words. The only two words that were said without a break were "lateral incision." Shortly after he said those, the line went dead.

Gabe had been calling on his cell phone, which explained everything. Because Hernia is situated between two mountain ridges, aerial reception of any kind is, at best, intermittent. Sacrilegious wags have been known to say that on Judgment Day, only half of Hernia's dead will rise, the other half having not gotten the signal.

Late morning, as my stomach was beginning to rumble like an active volcano, Nurse Ratched stopped by. She looked like a small child who'd just been told that Santa Claus was a myth, one perpetuated by secular parents who believe the true Christmas story sounds just too fantastical to pa.s.s on to their children.

"Dr. Rashid says you can go. Apparently everything checks out okay-you're still alive, gosh darn it. I'm to process you. But don't think you've truly escaped my clutches, Miss Yoder. Someday, when you least expect, you'll pay for what you did yesterday."

"It was a bra, for heaven's sake. Let me pay for it now."

"Oh, I don't want your money-although you do have too much of it for your own good. I want revenge, and that is a dish best served up cold."

"Cold dishes are way overrated. Have you ever tried eating fried liver and onions cold? Or boiled turnips?"

"You can't dissuade me."

I pushed my call b.u.t.ton. I pushed it hard and repeatedly.

"What are you doing?" she demanded. "I'm the nurse a.s.signed to you, and I'm right here."

"So you are. Silly me." As she watched, scowling, I rummaged through my purse until I found my cell phone. The number I wanted was prerecorded on my speed dial. "h.e.l.lo, Ed?"

"Magdalena! I heard you were staying with us. How are we treating you?"

"I've been treated very well, Ed, thank you. Say, do you mind dropping by for a moment?" Out of the corner of my eye I saw Nurse Dudley turn to stone-petrified stone.

"As it so happens, I'm on your floor. I'll be there in a second."

25.

Fresh Coffee Ice Cream Recipe Ingredients: 6 egg yolks 4 tablespoons fresh coffee beans, finely ground 8 oz (200 g) light brown sugar 1 pint (500 ml) milk 6 oz (approx. 185 ml) very hot water Take the finely ground coffee, and pour the water onto it, then let it stand for about ten minutes. Strain the mixture. In a heatproof bowl, mix together the sugar and egg yolks, then whisk until thick and pale. Whisk in the milk and the coffee, then put the bowl over a saucepan of simmering (though not boiling) water. Cook until the mixture is thick (i.e., until it forms a layer on the back of a wooden spoon), being sure to stir it all the time. Take the saucepan off the heat and place the bowl to one side to cool. (If you want to prevent a skin from forming on the mixture, you can try covering the surface with a piece of damp, greaseproof paper.) When cool, transfer the mixture into an ice cream maker, and follow the manufacturer's instructions.

26.

Ed actually took several minutes to arrive, and by then I had the check written and recorded. We greeted each other warmly (we've served on many boards together), and he nodded at Nurse Dudley. Personally, I think he tried too hard to appear as if he wasn't trying to read her name badge. Oh well, no one is perfect.

When the pleasantries were done, and he'd turned his attention back to me, I handed him the check. "Here is a small gift to the hospital; a token of my thanks for the excellent care I've received."

The hospital administrator glanced at the check. Then he looked at the check. Next he stared at the check, his eyes bulging.

"A-a-million dollars? There must be a mistake."

"Oh, no mistake, dear. But strings, yes."

"Wonderful. Strings are just great."

The petrified woman to my right returned to life enough to blanch, thereby turning herself into a white statue. Perhaps she was a pillar of salt.

"Ed, I was thinking-always a dangerous activity for me- that some of the hardest-working and least-appreciated professionals are nurses. Where would patients be without them? Or doctors, for that matter? So I would like this money to do something that makes life easier and more rewarding for nurses. I was thinking it might be a down payment on establishing a day care center-or a really special nurses' lounge. At any rate, that is really up to you and the board."

"Those are fantastic ideas, Magdalena. The day care center especially. Would you mind if it was available to all hospital employees?"

"That would be zippers with me, but there is a condition."

"Zippers?"

"You know-like cool. You unzip anything, you're bound to get a cool breeze." I've been trying for decades to get one of my clever expressions accepted into the lexicon of American lingo, but so far there hasn't been even one taker.

Ed smiled indulgently. "Ah, zippers. I'll have to remember that. So, what's the condition?"

"I want the facility to be named after Nurse Dudley."

There were two audible gasps, followed by two soprano voices speaking in unison. "You do?"

"Indeed, I doodest. The NurseDudleyDayCareCenter-has a nice sound to it, doesn't it?"

Ed managed to pull his voice down an octave. "But Nurse Dudley-and I mean no disrespect-is our least-liked staff member. Not just in the nursing department, but in the hospital in general. As a matter of fact, she's pretty much hated by-"

"Now, now, Edwin, we mustn't be so judgmental." I turned to the object of Ed's scorn. "Were the window open, Nurse Dudley, a sparrow could fly down your throat. Trust me, all those feathers in your tummy can be a mite tickly."

"But-but-Miss Yoder, I've been so bad to you over the years. I don't know how you can forgive me, much less do something so awesome in my honor. Sure, you've been even worse to me-"

"Stop while you're ahead, dear. And for the record, I'm not naming the center in your honor-although you may choose to believe so. I'm merely naming it that because it will need a name, and you're standing right here."

The tears coursing down her face were following the topography, as laid down by a lifetime of sun exposure and years of heavy smoking. "That's a lie, Miss Yoder, and you know it. But I'll take what I can get."

"You're right, that was a big fat lie. I'm spending a million dollars just to get back at you. Having your name on the center will be a daily reminder of how I countered with kindness the hot coals you've heaped on my head over the years."

Now the tears ran so freely that they overflowed the smokers' lines. "Thank you, thank you, thank you! Commemorating my meanness is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me. How can I ever pay you back for this wonderful gift?"

"Bring me lunch, for starters-with an extra dessert. I'm so famished, I could eat even my own cooking. And then be a dear, and give me a ride into Hernia. Ed, you won't mind if she takes the afternoon off?" It was neither a question, nor a command; it was a statement that left little doubt in his mind that cooperation was expected.

"Anything you'd like, Magdalena," Ed said, as tears flowed down his face as well.

I would have left the hospital much sooner, but, as I was reaching for my gla.s.ses-in order to read the ingredient list on my juice box-my hand accidentally alighted on something called a remote control. It is used to turn modern televisions on and off, and also, if one is skilled in these matters, to select various stations.

Needless to say, I'd never felt one before. It was long, hard, and disturbingly exciting. As strange as it might sound, I found that I was incapable of letting go. Then, just as surely as if Satan himself had pushed my finger, I pressed the on b.u.t.ton. A minute later, with Beelzebub at my side, I began to watch my first fea-ture-length motion picture. In all sincerity, I must let it be known that I was powerless to stop.

The movie, if you must know, was Imitation of Life, with Lana Turner. I'd once heard my sister, Susannah, refer to this movie as a tearjerker. Boy, was she ever right. By the end of the show, I'd jerked my way through an entire box of facial tissue, and had just rung for a second box. To be absolutely honest, I never even cried that much when my parents died.

Of course, after that I had to wait for the puffiness below my eyes to subside, which took another hour, and then I had to check on Doc. He was sleeping as peacefully as a baby, although judging by the configuration of his sheet, he wasn't dreaming of mobiles and pacifiers.

At any rate, Nurse Dudley was an excellent driver, despite being such a poor winner. We hadn't so much as exited the hospital parking lot when she began in on her list of demands: the letters of her name had to be at least four feet high and chiseled into Indiana limestone-certainly not attached letters, ones that could be torn down at the whim of another CEO. In addition, there was to be a tastefully sized bronze bust of her just inside the main doors. And oh, if a new sidewalk was part of the package, there was to be a star embedded in it, as well as her handprints.

I told her to go on a solo picnic lunch in the AlleghenyNational Forest, after first smashing any compa.s.ses she might own. She then told me to take a running leap from Bedford's tallest building, which is a silly thing to say, given that I'd land on either concrete or asphalt and hurt the d.i.c.kens out of myself. At any rate, after that, we got along famously, and by the time she dropped me off at Hernia High stadium (where the compet.i.tion was held), we were no longer the worst of friends.

My best friend, incidentally, was one of the few people left at the stadium. She appeared to be directing several young Amish men, telling them how they should go about scooping up cow dung.

"Agnes!" I cried in bewilderment. "Where is everybody?"

"They're gone, Magdalena. How are you doing? What are you doing here? Gabriel said you were in the hospital."

"I was. But I'm good as new now."

Agnes is a short, round woman with a round face framed by round gla.s.ses. Despite the fact that she is grossly overweight, she positively brims with energy. In fact, she bounces when she walks. When she gestured me away from the Amish men, I found it hard to keep up with her.

But when we were well out of earshot, she bounced in place until I caught up. "What was your diagnosis?"