Page 38 - the NOISE March 2015

The Parlor Window
“How is she this morning?” Mary Thompson carefully arranged the silverware on the tray as Dot the housekeeper finished cooking the eggs.
“same as yesterday and the day before that. she won’t leave that window.” Dot pulled two pieces of toast out of the toaster. she buttered them carefully before putting them on a plate. she then flipped the eggs and kept cooking.
“You’ve only been here one month. I’ve been with Miss Ida thirty years and I’ve never seen her like this. ever since Mr. Jack died, she spends all of her time staring at that old stained glass window. And it’s shut. won’t let me open it. says she won’t leave until Jack brings her a bou- quet of her roses from the garden, whatever that means. How can you see somethin’ when the window is shut? Don’t make any sense.” Dot tossed the eggs on the plate.
“Dementia rarely makes sense.” Mary put a napkin under the silverware. “every patient is different. I’ve heard some really wild stories in my nursing career. But I have to admit, Miss Ida Mae is pretty creative.”
Dot wiped her hands on a nearby towel. she placed a small glass of juice on an awaiting tray. “There. That’s everything.” she tugged at her uniform then inspected the front of the white
apron tied around her ample waist. “now I’ve gone and done it. Miss Ida don’t like spots.” she untied the apron and tossed it in a hamper at the end of the counter.
Mary picked up the tray.
“Here, I’ll take her breakfast to her this morning. I have to check her vitals anyway.”
“Thank you, Miss Mary. I’ll start cleaning up in here.” Dot turned away from the young nurse and dropped the skillet into the sink.
Mrs. Ida Mae Montgomery was the last surviving member of an old southern family. she and her husband, Jack, presided over a once prosperous plantation that had been sold gradu- ally acre by acre to pay taxes. All that remained now was a bit of ground and the dilapidated antebellum mansion.
Mary walked through the large dining room to the hallway beyond. she never thought she would have a job below the Mason Dixon line, much less in an old rundown mansion. she declined the position the first time, but the agency raised the offered salary until she couldn’t refuse. There was also the issue of the police asking too many questions about the death of her last patient. she needed to get out of town in a hurry. now she was hundreds of miles from home, and a hundred years back in time.
she turned left past the grand staircase to a set of sliding wood doors. she pushed open the doors and entered a small parlor. even with the high ceiling, the room was stifling.
“Miss Ida, please let me open a window and let some air in.” she walked towards an ornate mahogany chair strategically placed in the center of the room. It faced a lone stained glass window in the center of the far wall. The window was tightly shut.
“no, I can’t see if you open the window.” Miss Ida Mae’s soft voice masked her iron will.
she really does have dementia badly.
She’s hallucinating, Mary thought as she approached her patient.
Miss Ida Mae sat upright in the stiff wooden chair dressed in a brocade bathrobe cinched
at the waist. she looked much younger than her eighty-six years, which Mary attributed to a gentile lifestyle. she was still an attractive woman. every morning Ida Mae demanded that she be dressed to receive callers although few ever stopped by. Then she spent the remainder of the day sitting in front of the stained glass window until it was time to retire.
Mary put the tray down on a small table in front of Miss Ida. she prepared her stethoscope. “Let’s see how we’re doing this morning.” she leaned forward to check her patient’s heart.
Miss Ida waved her out of the way. “You are blocking my view.”
Mary moved to her left. “what do you see today, Miss Ida?”
It was a question she posed every day — one that Miss Ida answered occasionally.
“Messenger rode by earlier this morning. Told the overseer that Union troops were close. said they were burning everything in their path. elizabeth said not to worry. everything is safe.
38 • MARCH 2015 • the NOISE arts & news • thenoise.us
It’s all buried deep.”
“elizabeth?”
“Jack’s Great Grandmother, elizabeth Montgomery.”
Mary put the stethoscope on Miss Ida’s chest.
“what did she bury, Miss Ida?
“why the jewels of course. elizabeth made sure the soldiers wouldn’t find them.”
Mary picked up Ida’s wrist and checked her pulse.
“so you see things that happened in the past? Like the Civil war?”
Miss Ida looked away from the window. “I can see everything that ever happened in front of the window. Yesterday I saw my wedding in the rose garden. Jack looked so handsome.”
“You say his great grandmother buried some jewels?”
“Yes. A man on a gray horse came up to the house. He warned Miss elizabeth that the blue coats were coming. Told her to leave. Miss elizabeth didn’t have enough time. so, she gath- ered up everything that was valuable and hid it.” Miss Ida turned back to the window.
“I thought General sherman burned everything in his path. How come he didn’t burn down the house?” Mary glanced around the room.
“elizabeth made a deal with one of the officers right out there in the garden. I couldn’t quite hear what the bargain was, but the soldiers left the house alone. Burned everything else, though.”
“But she managed to hide the jewels?”
“Absolutely. she walked right out there with a bundle in her arms. Jack says she hid them some place safe. He said if I find the jewels, we can save the house.”
“Really. why can’t Jack tell you where they are?” The idea of a hidden treasure outweighed her skepticism.
“Heavens no. He wasn’t there.” Miss Ida fell silent.
Mary picked up the tray. “I’ll come back later with some tea.” Miss Ida didn’t answer. she was watching the window.
Miss Ida’s revelation excited her. In her ten years as a private nurse, Mary had carefully picked her clients. They had to be quite old, wealthy and without family or none close by. In doing so, she managed to steal a small fortune over the years. when she saw the rundown condition of Miss Ida’s estate, she wondered if she had made a mistake until Miss Ida’s story this morning.
Dot entered the kitchen. “she didn’t eat much,” she said eyeing the remains of the breakfast. “no, she was too busy looking at the window. Has she ever mentioned Great Grandmother
elizabeth to you?” Mary feigned calmness.
“And the jewels? Many times. Mr. Jack spent hours digging up the yard hoping to find them.
never did.” Dot shook her head. she tossed the breakfast in the trash. “woman’s gonna wither away to nothin’,” she clucked.
“so you don’t think it’s true.” Mary could barely hide her disappointment. “Hard tellin’. Mr. Jack believed it was true and he was no fool.”
Mary felt the surge of excitement return. “what do you think?”
“You know, when Miss Ida stares at that window, she says some pretty crazy things. Like the
time she claimed Jack told her there was an important letter hidden in the attic. Kept buggin’ me to go look. so I did. sure enough, I found it just where Miss Ida said it would be. Had to tear the wall apart to get it, but it was there.”
“who was the letter from?” Mary’s whole body was tingling.
“From General Lee. signed and everything. Miss Ida sold it at auction. Raised about eight thousand dollars total.”
Dot didn’t need to say anything more. Mary was convinced there was a treasure waiting for her. she just had to find it.
For the next few weeks, she hovered over her patient hoping for another tidbit of informa- tion, but Miss Ida remained silent. no amount of prodding induced her to speak.
“Have you seen Miss elizabeth today? Anybody digging out there?”
short fiction by Nathalie Goldston illustration by Tyler Bighorse