Shortlisted
Momentarily Free
Adam Stone
It truly breaks Frank’s heart every day, all over again. It has been six months now, and he still feels as though he has failed Joy.
It had become particularly bad at home, to the point where he really couldn’t leave Joy alone in the house. Within the space of a week, she had walked out of the house and down the street only to forget where she was, left a gas burner on without having cooked anything, and accused him of stealing teapots from their home. It was so cruel, and in the end, Frank felt he had no choice but to find proper care for his wife. He felt guilty. They’d virtually never spent a night apart through all their married life, let alone lived apart.
‘Who are you? What do you want?’
‘It’s just me, love,’ Frank says, wondering how he can manage a smile when he feels so inherently sad.
Joy accuses the staff of stealing from her and holding her against her will. It’s her mind that is being held captive. Her light is tunnelling in on the centre of her life’s page but leaving the outskirts in darkness. Frank would love nothing more than to free Joy from this fog that has overcome her mind and for them to go home and back to normal. In reality, he knows this won’t be possible as the specialists say the condition is degenerative.
Frank visits daily without fail. The staff see residents who have only occasional visitors and think it’s especially sweet that Frank comes in every day, but he genuinely wants to be there. He often brings in flowers from their garden, so lovingly established and cared for by Joy. He is extra fastidious in the garden now, not wanting to let Joy down and undo all her good work.
In the home, they allow one meal per day for a spouse, so Frank has found a routine and switches between lunches and dinners. Joy never was one much for breakfast anyway.
***
It’s a Monday morning and following a cup of tea and a nibble on some toast, Joy gets ready for the day. Once she has dressed and put her face on, she habitually places her handbag over her shoulder and walks down the corridor that separates the residents from the reception area. One of the nurses comments, ‘You look nice this morning, Joy!’
‘I’m just going to the shops.’ The nurse doesn’t think twice; this is a daily interaction. She’ll be in the lounge with a cuppa shortly. However, this day is different from all the other days. Joy tailgates a visitor who is in a rush and who punches a code into a keypad to enter the foyer. Candace, who works at reception, had a big weekend and, not unusually, is bleary-eyed. She presses the exit button for the visitor, and as Joy tracks the visitor through the front door and into the morning, Candace is preoccupied with texting her friend Laney, who shared some of the gaps she was trying to fill from the weekend.
Joy meanders through the car park, onto the footpath, and heads away from the home. After fifteen minutes, she approaches a bus stop and as a bus pulls in, she idly hops on. She enjoys sitting up high and seeing the houses and gardens and people. She remains on the bus until the end of the route at a large shopping centre. She enters the maze of national retailers, which have made many feel a little lost and overwhelmed, but Joy happily walks along, enjoying the hum of activity.
She happens across a café and asks the young woman wiping down the tables, ‘Could I have a cup of tea, please, love?’ Whilst it was not the type of café that offered table service, the woman is happy to oblige. Joy has a kind face, and the woman thinks, she reminds me of grandma.
After her rest stop and cup of tea (with a complimentary mini hazelnut donut), Joy is on the move again. The woman looks up and sees Joy walking away, but doesn’t call after her; she is quite sure it’s not part of some elaborate scam and that Joy simply forgot to pay.
Wandering in and out of shops but looking at nothing in particular, Joy finds herself in a shoe store.
‘Good morning! How can I help you?’ asks the sales assistant.
‘Hello, love. My, these look lovely!’ exclaims Joy, handling a pair of Hush Puppies.
‘Would you like to try them on? What size are you?’
Joy doesn’t respond and just smiles.
‘Let’s check your size. Okay, looks like size eight. I’ll be right back.’
As the sales assistant walks away, Joy puts on the shoes on display and walks out of the store without paying.
After roaming some more, Joy enters a lolly shop and absent-mindedly puts a bag of lollies in her bag and then approaches the sales counter.
‘Hello. Can I help you there?’ asks the lady behind the counter.
Joy looks confused.
‘Is there anything you’d like to buy?’
‘Oh, I, um…do I know you?’ says Joy hesitantly.
‘I don’t think so,’ replies the lady, a little puzzled. Can I help you with anything you’d like to buy?’
Joy looks more confused, smiles weakly, and walks out of the shop.
The animated trill of the newsagency draws Joy in next. People are lining up at one end of the counter, and Joy falls into the line. Once it is her turn to be served, she inquires, ‘What’s all this fuss about then?’
‘It’s the Super Draw tonight. Forty million dollars up for grabs. You’ve gotta be in it to win it!’ Following some confusion and explanation of how many games Joy wants to purchase, she walks out with a ten-game quick-pick ticket and over thirty dollars lighter.
Back at the home, once every nook and cranny had been checked and double-checked, it became clear that Joy was missing. The CCTV footage confirms their fears – Joy had simply walked out the front door. No one would have looked twice at the well-groomed elderly lady walking closely behind another lady.
The home calls Frank straight away. The Director of Nursing, Barbara, is meticulous in her planning and day-to-day operations at the home and takes it personally that a resident was able to stroll out the front door without anyone noticing. The time for reflection and self-scolding would have to wait. They needed to find Joy! Frank has no idea where she could have gone. He senses the desperation in Barbara’s voice and refrains from casting blame at this early stage. He can’t help but think though, how could this happen?
A semblance of a search party is cobbled together, and they cover the main road on which the home is located in both directions. She couldn’t have gone too far, they hope. Frank soon joins the search for his wife, but feels rather helpless. And somewhat guilty. I should just care for her at home, he contemplates.
After a couple of hours, Barbara contacts the police, who seem only mildly interested. Barbara can’t reiterate enough that Joy is a dementia resident and in all likelihood, would be lost, confused, and upset.
Joy has walked a lap of the shopping centre, which is quite a feat in the gargantuan retail barn. Despite tired legs and sore feet, she feels a lightness and at some level, a freedom she had once known. She approaches a nearby café and asks the young woman who is busy putting the lunch menu board up, ‘Could I have a cup of tea, please, love?’
‘Oh, hello again!’ Joy looks confused. She sits Joy down and brings her a cup of tea for the second time that morning. ‘Can I get you something to eat?’
‘That would be lovely, thank you, dear. I’ll have a ham and pickle sandwich, please.’ The café didn’t have ham and pickle sandwiches, though another kiosk nearby did. The woman is soon back with the sandwich for Joy and sits down with her. She notices a piece of paper crumpled in Joy’s left hand and wonders whether this holds a clue as to who Joy is or someone she knows.
The woman introduces herself, ‘My name’s Aileen. Actually, it’s really Evangeline, but I’ve been called Aileen since I was little. My mum only called me Evangeline if I was in trouble!’
Joy pecks at her sandwich and mildly smiles towards Aileen, but it is obvious that the introduction hadn’t properly registered. ‘May I see what you’ve got there?’ Aileen asks, pointing to Joy’s left hand.
Joy looks blankly at the piece of paper in her hand. ‘You can have that, love. Someone gave it to me.’ Aileen uncrumples the piece of paper to reveal a Powerball ticket, purchased that morning.
‘It’s a Powerball ticket. You might win some money!’
‘It’s not mine,’ Joy says. ‘Someone gave it to me.’ Without much further thought, Aileen shoves the ticket inside her jeans pocket. She is concerned that Joy seems to be on her own and confused. She speaks to her manager, who contacts the centre security. The security officer, Ahmed, is relatively new to the role, and what little training he had undergone did not include dealing with dementia patients.
As best he can think how, Ahmed asks, ‘Are you okay? Do you know where you are?’
‘What sort of question is that? I’m here talking to you!’
‘Can you tell me where you live?’ Joy becomes confused and agitated. Ahmed radios his boss, who in turn thinks it best to contact the police. It wasn’t unusual for a patrol car to be in the area, and soon enough, a female police officer is at Joy’s side, placating her.
Once the call had come through to the station, the officer on the desk suggested, ‘It might be the missing lady from the aged care home.’
Joy now seemed largely unfazed by all the attention and the ride in the police car, though she is very quiet. Once back at the home, she is nonchalant as she is accompanied back to her room. She is not up for answering questions about how she made her way to the shopping centre; in reality, she can’t recall and can’t understand what all the fuss is about.
Frank shares dinner with Joy that evening, and despite her appearing more detached than usual, it is as though the episode had never occurred.
***
Two days later, Aileen is working another shift at the café. She had thought of the elderly lady often, and her overriding emotion was one of melancholy. How sad, she thought. The poor lady didn’t seem to know her name, where she was, or where she lived. She soon busies herself in the café and pushes these thoughts aside.
During a hectic lunchtime at the café, Aileen is serving Caesar salad from the buffet to two ladies and overhears them talking about winning the lottery, ‘It just goes to show you, any of us could win! How exciting that it’s happened here!’
‘I’m not sure I’d want to win that much money,’ the other lady replied. ‘What would you do with forty million dollars?’
‘I’d like to find out!’ responded her friend.
Aileen approaches their table a few minutes later and says, ‘Excuse me, I overheard you talking about the lottery prize. Did you say the winning ticket came from this centre?’
‘Yes! It’s on the news. One winner! Forty million dollars! The newsagency is full of people wanting to buy a ticket for next week’s draw. I mean, what are the chances of it happening two weeks in a row?’
The following day, Aileen attends the local police station and is able to establish that the elderly lady with a kind face and a penchant for tea is a resident at the Tree Town Aged Care Home. The police won’t provide the lady’s name, but are happy to advise the address of the home when Aileen explains her connection.
It is mid-morning on a Wednesday, and the ‘Morning Melodies’ session is in full swing at Tree Town. Aileen is assisted by Hannah at reception, who calls for Barbara to speak to her about the resident who was lost in the shopping centre. Once explained, Barbara is thankful for Aileen’s involvement that day and is happy to let her speak with Joy. ‘Don’t be surprised, though, if she doesn’t recognise you or remember that day,’ Barbara warned.
‘Could I have a cup of tea, please, love?’ Joy doesn’t seem to recognise Aileen at all. She makes Joy a cup of tea at the kitchenette and engages in some small talk, which is all one-way.
‘It’s a nice day outside. They say it might rain later, so that’ll keep the ducks happy! That’s one of my grandma’s favourite sayings.’
‘That’s nice, dear,’ responds Joy.
Sadly, it is clear that Joy doesn’t recall anything from being at the shopping centre a couple of days earlier. Joy continues to sip on her tea and give that smile that Aileen has come to identify as her non-recognition expression.
After around twenty minutes, as Aileen rises to leave, Frank arrives. He has come for lunch; on the menu is meatballs with rice and a vegetable medley. They talk for a short while, but Joy doesn’t participate in the conversation.
‘The police said you were a great help, thank you,’ says Frank gratefully. ‘Joy hasn’t been here long and it’s taking a while to adjust – isn’t it, love?’
Joy simply responds with a smile.
‘Oh, it’s no trouble, it’s the least I could do,’ replies Aileen. ‘Joy reminds me of my grandma, so I had a soft spot for her straight away. I wasn’t sure if she had anyone with her at first – I thought maybe a grandchild.’ Aileen casually asks Frank, ‘Do you have children?’
‘We had twins. We’re estranged from our son, who lives with his wife in Spain, and our daughter died in her forties from pancreatic cancer.’ They have no grandchildren. Frank’s pain and sadness is palpable.
‘Could I have a cup of tea, please, love?’ Frank and Aileen rise at the same time and share a sober laugh.
Aileen insists, ‘Please, let me.’
***
Eight months later, Aileen slips into the Mediterranean Sea off a beach in Alicante, Spain. It is 8:00 am, and already the temperature has soared past thirty degrees Celsius. Having spent two weeks in Spain, this is her last stop before exploring Portugal, France, and the UK. She is undecided on Belgium, Germany, and the Netherlands but will make up her mind along the way; she’s in no rush.
At the same time, Frank is with Joy for the afternoon and for dinner. They will be served a penne pasta carbonara with garlic bread and a generous portion of strawberry cheesecake for dessert. Joy will pick through the pasta dish but barely eat any of it. She will eat the cheesecake, though, along with a cup of Earl Grey tea, her favourite.
The home features various paths that wind in and around the recently established, beautifully manicured gardens. It is calming, not to mention quite stunning, and Frank makes sure to take Joy on a walk through the gardens each and every visit. He is more than chuffed to see the plaque at the entry: The Joy and Frank Mullaway Gardens. An anonymous donor, apparently also responsible for the upgrade from a single room to a double room for Joy and other works slated for the home. Frank is beyond racking his brain as to who it could be. What has really thrown him is the ten-million-dollar research grant set up in their daughter’s memory via a charity dedicated to the research of pancreatic cancer. Perhaps topping all of this is the fact that their son, Steven, is in transit from Barcelona and will visit them after fifteen years of estrangement.
Joy looks past the garden plaque, though she does have moments. Flickers of recognition, which have become little gold nuggets in Frank’s daily visits. Moments when Joy’s mind is her own and is freed, not enslaved by this insidious disease.
Before dinner is served, Frank takes Joy’s hand in a caress of souffle tenderness, a hand he has known for fifty-three years, and it reads like a book of her life, aged and elegant, each ring with a story to tell.
As they walk, Joy says to Frank ‘Please don’t forget to water the garden, love. It’s been a while since we had any rain to speak of. And how’s Lenny doing? You just need to make sure he’s inside at night. I’d hate one of the neighbours to complain. Beryl was saying that her sister’s cat was impounded by the Council.’
Frank holds Joy’s hand just a little firmer and blinks hard with watery eyes; he has never been so happy to talk of such mundane things. He feels the fog lift for Joy, and as one, the soles of their shoes click along the path at dusk and join in the dance of the crickets.
Adam Stone lives and loves on the Bellarine Peninsula. He is an award-winning lyricist and published writer, with a passion for writing short stories and flash fiction. He is a member of Geelong Writers Inc.
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