Admissions by Jennifer Sowle Read Free Book Online

made of a composite material with a brocade finish, like fancy cardboard was available in four colors: gold, white, blue and pink.
    “Where are the mahogany caskets, like we had for my dad?” I asked Mr. Morris.
    “Oh, Mrs. Kilpi, children are never buried in wood. It’s just not done.” He wrung his manicured hands, flashed a weak smile.
    We didn’t ask questions, we ordered the white one. But I couldn’t help wondering if it was a matter of supply and demand, or was a real casket just too big an investment for such a short life?
    The second day after the funeral, I wandered to the kitchen, found myself snatching the tin-foil covered dishes from the refrigerator. I flung the food into the garbage, splattering the spaghetti, macaroni and cheese, potato salad, baked beans, and Jell-O salads until they ran together like a giant bug smashed on the bottom of the can.
    The sticky dishes bumped around in the scalding water as I scrubbed them, my hands like stewed tomatoes. Each container had the name of the benefactor written on white cotton adhesive tape stuck to the underside. I put the clean dishes, plants, cards, holy cards, guest register, and other remembrances in Alexander’s room, closed the door, dragged myself down the hall.
    I met Jeff going into the bathroom. He tried to give me a hug. “What happened to your hands?”
    I spread my fingers in front of my face. “Dishes.”
    “Jesus, Lu. They looked burned.”
    I shrugged, jammed my hands into the pockets of my robe.
    “Where are those dishes we need to return?
    “Bedroom.”
    “I’m going to run them back this afternoon.”
    “Now why would you want to drive all over hell’s half acre with those dishes?” I snapped. “We don’t even know half those people.”
    “I can check with Mom. Don’t worry.”
    “Suit yourself.” I couldn’t wait to get back in bed.
    The house was quiet when I got up later for a drink of water. A faint yellow twilight cast distorted rectangles against the living room wall. I turned on a lamp and sat down on the couch, stared out the window until the streetlights came on. Jeff still wasn’t home. Oh, that’s it. Taking the dishes back gave him an excuse to get out of the house. I plodded back to the bedroom.
    I’d been in bed for two days by the time Jeff went back to work Thursday afternoon. I slept around the clock. By Friday, I didn’t care if I ever woke up.
    Alexander is gone. It settles on me. The weight of it pushes me flat against the floor.
    The Lobster opens the door. “Okay. You’re out tonight.” I roll from my side onto my knees, draw my hands up under my body. From my hands and knees, I can get up slowly. My legs work, but I can’t feel them.
    “It’s eight-fifteen. You’ve been transferred to Hall 9. You need to be there before night check. If you’re not showered and ready by eight-thirty, you’re not going.” The Lobster backs up, pushes the door fully open with her body, stands in front of it while I pass. She covers her nose and mouth with her hand.
    “Gee, we’re really going to miss you, Luanne.”

Chapten 10
    I reach toward the nurse as two attendants drag me through the door. Nurse Judy waits at the nurses’ station. “I’ll take her, thanks. Welcome to Hall 9, honey.” I crumble at the nurse’s kindness, slump against her chest and sob. Every bone in my body aches, my mind is numb with drugs and shock.
    “It’s okay. We have your room ready. There’s a stack of letters and cards for you.” Nurse Judy puts her right arm around my waist, holds me by the forearm with her left hand. She unlocks the door to Room 15. “Heidi, you asleep? New roommate.” Nurse Judy snaps on the room light from the hallway.
    Despite her night medication, Heidi pops up. “Sweet Jesus, Luanne?”
    “Heidi.” I’d never been so happy to see someone in my life.
    “Holy shit, you look like death warmed over.”
    “Lucky for you, they made me shower.” I sit on the bed trying to gather my