Waiting

• Marcus Kelly, Grade 9
• Short Story
• 2021

In the corner of the room, beside the firm, white bed, she sat patiently. Wrinkled, worn hands clasped in her lap, watery eyes gazing wistfully out the window, body sunken into the plump red armchair. Her thin white hair was cut short and curled. Dangling loosely around her neck was a shimmering golden chain, off of which hung a small red and black garnet. She loved the dear thing; kissed it each night before she went to bed, for she knew it was special to her…but she didn’t know why.
She took a deep, raspy breath.
“Is there no one wanting to see me?” She said aloud. A woman in a purple dress, wiping the bedside table, frowned.
“No,” she answered. “Sorry, but there really isn’t.”
The old lady sighed, disappointed. She thought they’d come soon – her family, walking happily through the door. Her daughter and sons would grin and hug her tightly, her husband would kiss her lovingly on the hand and cheek and they’d all sit, talking once again.
In fact, she was sure this would happen.
She inhaled another gravelly breath.
“Is there really no one wanting to see me?” She asked. The young woman in purple sighed.
Walking over to the old lady hesitantly, she bit her lip, speaking softly after a moment.
“Melba…I’m really sorry, but I can assure you that no one is waiting to see you. There hasn’t been anyone for months, rememb-” she caught herself. Of course the dear old lady didn’t remember. She couldn’t.
A knock came from the door.
The old lady perked up.
“There!” She exclaimed joyously. “Someone is waiting!” She patted down her clothes and smoothed her hair, waiting expectantly. She really hadn’t had guests over in a while, she reflected.
The door opened. In walked a younger man dressed in black, a stethoscope hanging limply from his neck.
“Morning, everyone,” he said cheerfully, glancing down at the clipboard in his hands. “Melba, yes?”
The old woman’s heart sank to her feet, leaving her chest empty. Suddenly, she could taste the surface cleaner in the air, hear the conversations in the corridor outside her room, feel the heat spread over her body as, for just one moment, she remembered. The male doctor saw her downcast eyes and bold frown and stepped to the woman in purple, who nodded and pulled him outside into the hallway.
The old lady, sitting stiffly in her armchair, only heard snippets of their conversation.
“Forgets…Each day…Alzheimer’s…family…never coming…daughter died…cancer…necklace…gift…husband dead…sons…overseas…”
When the doctor left, the woman in purple resumed cleaning. The old lady looked at the sunny day outside the window. She saw a breeze in the trees, clouds sticking to the horizon, people walking along the pavements. It was the perfect day for someone to visit her!
Memories slipped away in an instant, like water through a sieve. She straightened, gazing out at the world, and took a heavy, raspy breath.
“Is there no one wanting to see me?” She asked hopefully.