Not even a nurse
H. W. Bryce
Not even a nurse could do as well
Blu mini comp bk of Aug 29-15
The little old lady teetered out of her room into the hallway. Call her Edna.
Her clothes were askew, her stare intense. She was going somwhere and by God she was going to get there.
Her short-step waddle was uncertain at best. She looked like she desperately needed support, or she was going to fall on her face. She held her arms out to the side like a tightrope walker’s balance beams; they carved rotating figure eights with each wobbly step.
Several residents passed her by, practically gliding on their walkers, chatting. Two wheelchair residents were chugging along erratic pathways not entirely of their choosing.
There were no care aides in sight; they were in another room with another resident. The duty nurse was dealing with a mini crisis down the hall beside her nurses’ station. Other care aides were tending other residents in the same area.
So there was no one to intercept the waddling, teetering Edna.
There was, however, among the throngs at the nursing station, a young woman dressed in a semi-uniform; she wore a uniform top, with simple grey slacks. She took note of Edna; it was hard not to. Call her Steph.
“Hello Edna,” Steph crooned. “Where is your walker?”
Edna blinked up at her. “I don’t know. Perhaps he’s following me. Back there. Somewhere. He gets lost.”
Well come on then, let’s go find shall we?”
“Yes, okay.”
“He might be lonely,” Steph suggested.
“Well, he might be.” Edna chortled. “He’s so darn slow.”
“I KNOW! Here Edna, take my arm.”
They looped arms and Steph got Edna turned around to face the direction of Edna’s room.
Not even a nurse could have worked so smoothly.
Steph towered over the little lady. She looked down. “I heard you could sing.”
Edna brighted up and straightened up. “Yes. I used to sing in the choir.”
Her voice didn’t indicate that she could sing; it was a weak voice, a frail, little voice.
“Well, let’s sing then,” Steph said.
Edna cast a cheeky look at Steph. “Do you know any Pete Seeger?”
“Pete Seeger? Really?”
“Oh yes. He was my favourite.”
“Yes, I heard you were once a hippy.”
Edna chortled. “Oh yes. I remember those days.”
“Yes? Which Pete Seeger song do you love?”
“Where have all the flowers gone.”
“I know that one. It’s beautiful.”
“Oh yes. We used to sing that all the time. In the choir.”
“Really?”
“Oh yes. It was a modern choir.”
“I’ll start then, shall I?”
Steph simply opened her mouth and out flowed a mellow alto voice.
Where have all the flowers gone, long time passing?
Where have all the flowers gone, long time ago?
Where have all the flowers gone?…
Edna picked up with her sweet, sweet soprano, and their voices paired like an angel’s prayer of praise.
Young girls have picked them everyone.
Oh, when will they ever learn?
Oh, when will they ever learn?
The odd pair turned and positively danced into Edna’s room, leaving the hauntingly beautiful music hanging in the hallway.
Not even a nurse could have done so well.
For Steph was not a nurse. She was not even a care aide.
Steph was with Recreation.
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