Delaney. XXVI

“Oh, Sister Mary Eunice,” Delaney exclaims, “this morning is glorious. I think I should read to you outside before my shift begins. What do you think?”

The Sister lies blank-eyed upon her bed, but Delaney can read the subtle variations in her face.

“I thought you might.” She says, and she pulls the Sister into a sitting position, moves her wheelchair next to the bed, and with some effort, for the Sister is not a slight woman, lifts her into it.

“We’ll put a sweater on you. I’d hate for you to catch a chill.” And Delaney manages to put one of Sister’s arms through an old cardigan, then slip the sweater around her back and wrestle the other arm in.

“Reminds me of how you used to dress me, Sister. Do you remember those days? They seem like forever ago to me, but probably not so far away for you.”

Delaney wheels the Sister down the hall and then out a doorway to a small patio area with gardens nearby. She positions Mary Eunice next to a wicker chair near a potted rosebush and opens the Bible passages for the day.

“Let’s just do the Proverbs for today,” Delaney says. “They’re like tiny morsels that have a lot of nutrition, and I don’t think I can do a very long reading this morning since I’ve got to be at work soon. Perhaps before I leave today I can come back and do the Old Testament and gospel readings. How does that sound?”

And she looks into the Sister’s eyes and discerns what she can from the unmoving face. Then she opens to the proverbs.

“The proverbs for today are separated by a few chapters. It’s strange if you ask me. They usually have us read proverbs that are right next to each other. They must consider these two a kind of pairing.” And Delaney feels that Sister Mary Eunice likes to hear her thinking process, so she is glad to think out loud as she opens to Proverbs 16:9 and 19:21. Her Bible is large enough so that she does not need to turn a page to see the two Proverbs laying there on her open lap; the proverb in chapter 16 sits in the upper corner of the left hand page and the proverb in chapter 19 in the lower right corner.

She takes the Sister’s hand and reads Proverbs 16:9, “In their hearts, humans plan their course, but the Lord establishes their steps.” Then, scanning down the right-hand page she finds Proverbs 19:21. “Many are the plans of a person’s heart; but it is the Lord’s purpose that prevails.”

And then unexpectedly, Delaney feels quite clearly the nun squeeze her hand, sending shivers down her spine.

“Did you just squeeze my hand?” She asks in astonishment, and then there is another squeeze.

“Sister! You just squeezed my hand.” She says it again as though trying to assure herself that it really happened. “You just squeezed my hand.”

And whether Delaney just wills it to be or it actually occurs, there is a little smile upon the nun’s face.

“Oh, Sister. I didn’t think it possible, but I do believe you are gaining function. Your strength is returning.” And Delaney does not say more lest she build false hopes for both herself and the old woman.

“You keep that up Sister. Keep working what muscles you can. Who knows what movement you may be able to recover in time! But my shift is beginning in a few minutes. Would you like to stay out in the sunlight for a little longer?”

And she looks carefully into Sister Mary Eunice’s face.

“I thought you might. I’ll ask Maureen to come fetch you in fifteen minutes, and then I’ll return for a visit after your lunch and before I head home. Would you like that?”

And Delaney gets up from her place and kisses the nun on her habit, careful to avoid the area of her head that has been flattened, though it has long recovered.

As she enters the building and approaches the stairwell, Mr. Pankow has just descended setting his cart down. She has not worked long at the part-time job in receiving and may have passed him once or twice without really looking. But on this occasion an odor strikes her quite severely as she sees him. Animal excrement. Specifically, that of a dog.

The man nods at her, smiling and doffing his cap.

“Madam.” He says.

She forces a smile and the smell is so strong that she now wonders if she has stepped in something while outside, so she stops to examine the bottom of her shoes. They are clean.

The smell diminishes as quickly as it arrived, and her attention returns to the wonder of Sister Mary Eunice’s movement. She ascends the stairs to check in for her shift.

Mr. Pankow pushes his cart down the hallway and out the building passing through the patio gardens toward the infirmary. He spies Sister Mary Eunice sitting in her wheelchair and cannot suppress a smile with a slight shake of his head as if to say, “Look at you in your near vegetative state, and see how I am flourishing.” Then he thinks of the prophesy, cultivate her fate and prosper, poison it and be destroyed.

As he passes, he suddenly trips upon something and falls headlong, sending his mail cart rolling down the walk in front of him and landing with his hands as he hits the ground. Pankow curses loudly lying face down on the walk. He stands up quickly, brushing himself off. Turning back to the old woman he sees that her left foot is not resting on the wheelchair’s metal cleat like the other, but on the ground. Still the woman is stone-faced and not looking in his direction.

Pankow picks the asphalt from his red, bleeding palms and continues on his rounds.

****

Vadik, the Cosgrove’s driver, delivers Delaney back to Townley Hall after her morning shift, returning to the Drogheda Care Home to await Mr. Cosgroves departure at day’s end. When she walks into the entryway, Frank and Adrienne are waiting breathlessly.

“We spent the morning in an absolutely brilliant library,” Adrienne exudes. “You should see some of the books we’ve borrowed.”

“I’ve had a rather decent morning myself.” She says. “But I’ve got to get out of these scrubs and into something else. I’ll be down in a flash. You two can wait for me in the parlor.” And Delaney disappears up the stairs.

When she comes into the Cosgrove parlor which hosts a good many books itself given it is a private collection, Frank and Adrienne are pouring over the pages of a large book they have opened on a coffee table.

“Is that a Bible?” She asks.

“Come and see.” Frank says, and when she arrives, he flips it shut to show her the cover.

“Druidic Runes and Their Meaning,” she says aloud. “God! Why is everyone so obsessed with this tattoo?”

“Oh, come dear,” Adrienne pleads. “Aren’t you the least bit curious?”

“Not really.”

“Nonsense,” Frank says. “I’ve already seen several runes in here that I recognize from your arm, now set it down here so I can copy the writing.”

Delaney complies to satisfy their prying minds but has long ago lost interest in the markings herself. She’s concluded that Mary Eunice came to the brothel to collect her days or weeks after she was born and that some sex worker with mental illness made the marks. Perhaps even her birth mother. But Brother Frank copies the marks diligently, pointing to a rune on her arm with his left hand, then trying to copy the shape precisely into a little note pad he has brought from the Friary.  

“You would not believe what happened this morning!” Delaney says, “I swear to you that Sister Mary Eunice squeezed my hand as I read from the Proverbs.”

“Hold still.” Frank says and he pushes her arm back onto the table. “Some of these marks have more detail than I thought. I want to get them just as they appear here.”

“Has she moved at all before this?” Adrienne asks.

“She’s not moved one wit since her accident ten years ago. Just a little movement in her face. You know, eating or looking around. She can hold her head up. She can remain sitting up if you put her in that position. But nothing in the way of hand or arm movement. Not in ten years!”

“That must be so encouraging to you.” Adrienne says. “I know how fond you are of her.”

Brother Frank finishes his work as scribe, closes his notepad, then sits back in a chair fumbling through the book of runes.

“Doesn’t the Murder Factor eliminate people like Sister Mary Eunice?” He asks. And Delaney considers the question impertinent. An echo of the bully Frank.

“Excuse me, Brother, but that was a practice that ended some time ago.”

“So, there are no more ‘cleansings’?” And there it is again. That thread of cruel sarcasm.

“We say, euthanize, Brother Frank,” says Delaney, “not cleansing. And it is done with the consent of the person. Now quit arguing with me. We take medicine for pain, do we not? If someone is in constant pain, it’s reasonable to relieve it.”

“I’m not arguing,” he says, “It just doesn’t seem like the sort of place you’d want to work.”

“You’re so judgmental.” She says defensively. “You don’t know the first thing about the Care Home.”

Adrienne thinks to herself I know a thing or two about it but doesn’t say so as she watches a brewing storm break upon the parlor.

“I know the people who are placed there are slave labor.” Frank says. “I know people like Magdalene or Adrienne were so unhappy that they had to escape in secret.”

“That was then, this is now! When have you ever been inside the place in the last few years? Or ever? People like Mary Eunice are cared for at great expense. And the Sisters aren’t even paying! Others are given real skills to contribute to society.”

“Yeah, but they’re skills our corporate capitalist society deems worthy. Seriously Delaney, are any of the residents trained to be artists or musicians? They do stuff like make clothes on some assembly line according to the Rourks.”

“Oh, and making beautiful clothes or nice shoes are not artistry? You don’t consider that a worthy skill?”

“I’m just saying that if there wasn’t some kind of profit involved the Murder Factory wouldn’t exist.”

“So, now you’re against profit? What are you some kind of communist?”

“Oh, Delaney,” Brother Frank says now with mild condescension. “You don’t even know what a communist is. And what if people have different economic beliefs?”

“Listen, if you’re going to sit there and judge me and judge my family for taking care of people like Sister Mary Eunice or giving people who’ve been rejected by society employable skills, then you’re not the person I thought you were.”

“Hey,” he says, with a pastoral tone. “I’m sorry.” He walks over to the loveseat she is sitting on next to Adrienne, his hands raised in surrender. He sits on the arm nearest Delaney and puts a hand on her shoulder, but she jerks it away.

“I wasn’t trying to upset you.”

“Yeah, well you weren’t trying very hard,” She snaps, and now her eyes are filling with tears.

“Maybe we should go outside,” Adrienne suggests. “See some of the new plants you’ve been talking about.”

“Or maybe you should just go.” Delaney says. “I’m not in much of a mood to look at plants. I came home so excited to tell you about Sister Mary Eunice and now Brother Frank here decides to jump all over me for working in a place that cares for people like her.”

“Delaney, I didn’t mean …” he begins.

“Just go, please.” She says, and Delaney leaves the parlor through the patio doors without saying goodbye and heads toward the tool shed. It’s where she goes when she wants to think. Often, she’ll find Mr. Byrne there and his simplicity and love for growing things from the ground grant her perspective.

Brother Frank and Adrienne don’t speak on the heavy ride back to town. Frank spends the time beating himself up for being so cavalier regarding his criticisms of the Murder Factory. He decides not to work on the translation of her runes. At least not right away. Their relationship has been injured, and she did not seem very keen on having the runes translated. Best to let mad dogs lie.