The Tides by Melanie Tem Read Free Book Online

here at The Tides, maybe, she would discover who she was without even having time or inclination to think about it. She was the person who had this never-ending list of things to do. She was the one in charge.
     
    She could have started her rounds right here. Instead, needing to get away from her father, she hurried along the corridor to the lounge in the middle, where the restored mural - not quite the same as the first one, but exuberant and expressive in its own right - caught the morning light and lifted her spirits just as it was supposed to. There was a pink spot on it that hadn't been there before, a small sunburst pattern near the floor. Rebecca liked the idea that somebody had been inspired.
     
    As she went outside, it occurred to her that the door ought to be re-hung so that it opened inward, to make it harder for wanderers like her father to get out. On the other hand, maybe this knob also ought to be replaced with a lever or a bar for conflicting safety reasons: so that, in the event of a fire, residents with limited mobility could get out. She'd have to check the regs. It would be easier if she could just call the Health Department and ask for advice, but Dan had warned her not to do that for fear of triggering a visit or a full-fledged survey, and The Tides wasn't ready for that.
     
    'The Health Department is not your friend, babe,' Dan had told her, laughing a little, all but patting her head. 'Trust me.' Rebecca wasn't entirely sure she believed that;
     
    Dan had had a running battle with the Health Department for years, which made him something less than objective on the subject. Theoretically, they were all on the side of good patient care. But she wouldn't call about doorknobs.
     
    She went out the back door, thinking to check the condition of the grounds behind the facility first. A scraggly privet hedge later in the spring she'd get somebody to come look at itmarked off a haphazard boundary that served no purpose, since the nursing-home property extended through the empty and partially filled-in lake bed to a street considerably more than a block away. Surprised and displeased by her own unwillingness to venture out that farit was, after all, broad daylight now, and nothing sinister had happened to her there anyway; she'd just slipped, and dusk had made things look and sound odd — she pushed through the hedge, noting dot a few of its scratchy branches were dangerously at eye level.
     
    She made her way around the end of the building where it abutted Elm Street, wondering whether it was the property-owner's responsibility to fix the buckled sidewalk, or the city's, and went out onto the front porch. She'd start at the parking lot, the way visitors, surveyors, and prospective residents and their families would experience the facility. It was easier to breathe outside than in. Rebecca harbored a fantasy that The Tides could someday be air-conditioned, though such a major construction project was quite out of reach now. At this time of year the building was only stuffy, but when she first got here last summer, it had been stifling.
     
    Rebecca walked to the far cast side of the crowded parking lot and turned to look at her facility. A rush of pride made her catch her breath. It looked nice. It looked, if not inviting, at least not hostile or depressing. She could do good things here. She could make her mark.
     
    There were a few pieces of trash along the curb. She picked them up, made a note in her notebook, and started deliberately along the front sidewalk, determined to notice every detail. Not noticing, though, the distortion of air around her, like a double image or the negative of a shadow.
     
    The three people on the porch all noticed it, but none of them reacted. They were all used to seeing and hearing things that couldn't be explained. They didn't react to the bright sun in their eyes, either, didn't squint or turn away or took down. It was as if the sun didn't hurt their eyes, or as if it