Hear What I Can't Say

Logan screeched into a visitor’s space and hurried into the facility. He exchanged very brief and distracted pleasantries with a teenage volunteer who slid the glass window open from behind a partition, then he signed in, pulled a visitor’s badge from a bowl and attached it to his collar. Logan breezed around a wet floor sign and nodded to a maintenance man who slid a mop back and forth in the hallway.

 “Always a good day on the right side of the dirt, right, Mr. Kane?”

“Right, Harold,” Logan said as he rushed by, waving his hand in greeting.

The inside was well-kept, which always eased Logan’s mind. Absolute Care Nursing Home didn’t radiate the typical Molotov cocktail of urine, fecal matter and Lysol, like most of its counterparts. He wasn’t sure how they pulled it off, but not knowing was probably advantageous for Logan. He wondered if anyone ever really got used to the smell in those facilities, or if they just grew to tolerate it. As he made his way to Mitchell’s room, there was a faint scent of alcohol mixed with a hint of strawberry potpourri. Yes, that combination was significantly more appealing than the alternative.

Mitchell’s face lit up when Logan entered the room, which eased Logan’s mind a bit. When he greeted his grandfather with a hug, Logan noticed something…funny. Logan curled up one side of his mouth and asked, “Where’s your teeth, Grandpop?”

“In my… pocket… where they belong!” Mitchell responded proudly with a wide smile full of nothing but gums. Logan snickered as Mitchell tugged on his shirt pocket to reveal a perfectly good set of teeth. “Don’t worry, I’ll put them in… for church on Sunday.” Logan shook his head as he looked around the room.

There were four beds, and Mitchell had two roommates. Next to Mitchell was Nate, who didn’t say too much to other people, but was amicable enough…when he wasn’t watching sports and hollering at the TV, that is. Tom’s bed was across from Nate. Tom spent the majority of his time glaring out the window at a broken down old manufacturing plant which butted up practically on top of the nursing home’s backside. The decrepit old building was a far worse view than the residents on the front side of the nursing home enjoyed. To Logan’s recollection, Tom had never carried on a conversation with his roommates. The only time Logan heard him speak was when he asked the aides for assistance.

The bed across from Mitchell was empty for the moment, but it wouldn’t be long before another poor, unsuspecting soul wondered how he ended up there. There was a wide range of age groups in the nursing home and they didn’t try to place them by age. Wherever there was an empty bed, that’s where they went.  Mitchell was the oldest at seventy-eight. Nate was in his late sixties. Tom hadn’t revealed his age, but looked to be in his early fifties. He was, by far, the youngest of the group, and easily the most morbid. After all, being in a nursing home at that age would depress anyone. He never had any visitors either, at least none that Logan knew of.

Logan turned his attention back to Mitchell. He tilted his head to see the bandage on the back of Mitchell’s arm, then gently touched Mitchell’s swollen, discolored wrist. “How are you—”

Mitchell jerked his arm back at Logan’s touch and then composed himself and replied with half a smile, “I’m… okay buddy.”   Mitchell’s speech was slow and slurred, but seemed to improve a little more each day. He never was one to complain much. Logan shot him a concerned look. Mitchell smiled and patted Logan on the back to ease his grandson’s mind.

“Looks like you ate most of your lunch, huh?” Logan asked.

“Yep, beef… tips… today,” Mitchell retorted. “Had applesauce and mashed… potatoes too.”

“What, no dessert?”

“Oh yeah…chocolate pudding. Ate that…first!” Mitchell proudly proclaimed.

Logan took Mitchell’s hungriness as a good sign, although he usually had a pretty healthy appetite. How he ate meat without teeth was a mystery, but he would eventually grind it down with his gums until he could swallow it. Mitchell said his teeth hurt his mouth, but eating potato chips, pretzels and other hard snacks never seemed to bother his gums. Go figure. As Mitchell got older he never wanted to do too much, but mention going out to eat and he was Johnny-on-the-spot.

“You want to take a walk outside? It’s a nice sunny day,” Logan asked.

“Nah…maybe next time, Logey. I…think I’ll just…hang…with the boys here today.”

Logan looked at Tom, who was still gaping out the window, then at Nate as he mumbled incoherently at the announcer on TV. “Are you sure, Grandpop?”

“Yes. Tell the…family…that I’m fine,” Mitchell said with a grin.

“Alright then. Call me if you need anything, okay?” Logan put his hand on Mitchell’s shoulder.

“I will kiddo. Love…you.”

“Love you too. See you in a few days.”

“You…bet!”

Logan said goodbye to Mitchell’s roommates, but received no response; not that he’d expected one. He waved to Mitchell, then glanced at the empty bed for a second before exiting the room. There was no sign of Harold, the maintenance man with his mop and bucket, but the floor sparkled with some help from the bright fluorescent lights in the ceiling. It was almost…too bright.

Logan returned to his car and sat quietly looking at the grounds for a few minutes. He spotted Walter, the groundskeeper, who wore an absurdly large straw hat, not unlike a sombrero, to shade the sun from his face. Walter wore denim overalls and a long sleeve shirt no matter what the temperature was.  You would never know that he spent all day outside given his light complexion. Logan watched Walter as he methodically pruned a hedge in front of the building.