Review, Revision, Edit and Update
“So let every encounter between your characters be important. Remember that it's when you as the writer understand the significance of character relationships that you are able to most profoundly understand the characters themselves.” - Katherine O'Chee, 8 Secrets to Writing Strong Character Relationships from her blog site Writer's Edit.
In this episode, there are several characters. Two minor ones - Miss Green, RN and the nurse's aide. Miss Green plays an important role in creating a setting for this most uncomfortable relationship between strangers. In Katherine O'Chee's 8 Secrets she also speaks of the importance of back stories for each character as the rationale for the relationship is developed. The two main characters for this episode, Emelina Beaufort and Carrie Tyler take tentative steps to learn how their individual back stories converge. Once more, I am fascinated by all the construct that is writing, whether it be fiction or non-fiction.
Common Ground
Dressed per hospital protocol in full protective garb - gown, mask, head covering and gloves, Miss Green, RN was on duty again. Other nurses would only give their first names, but Miss Green, RN, as her colleagues spoke of her, was ‘old school’. “In my day” only last names were used, and very frequently with out the ‘Miss’. Her patient looked much better today, although she was still pretty low on energy. Although it was none of her business, she was curious about such a pretty girl getting into this fix.
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Carrie was tired, not sure she was up to another round of questions about her past. In a strained, quiet voice she said “Is it the Social Worker again? He did say he’d be back today. Do you think he could come back in about an hour? I really don’t think I’m up to it.” Carrie had been napping, like she did everyday. Naps had always been a favourite since she had been a child, and her mother told her she was ‘the easiest baby to put down for her afternoon nap.’ But this napping every hour was not the same, she just couldn’t help drifting off. Now that she was able to read the few books donated to the Covid19 ward, she would wake to find the book, still in her hand, but heavy and flat on her chest. She was stiff and sore from lying in bed all day.
“No, it’s not the Social Worker, dear. Do you have any memory of the night you came in…….no, of course you don’t. You were so sick, we didn’t think you’d survive the night.” Miss Green may have been ‘old school’, but she could also be quite chatty from time to time. “It's the woman who came up here in the middle of the night because the doctor on call contacted her.” Miss Green was taking clean hospital garments out of the pass through cupboards that had been created for this ward. “I can’t be certain but I think it's the woman you have been corresponding with.” Carrie’s lethargy evaporated, and she became animated with excitement. “Where is that mirror? I must look awful. I’m so thin and pale.” Carrie reached into the bedside table for her brush, one of the few things they allowed her to keep. Such personal items were soaked in antiseptic each night and most definitely before her discharge. “I’ll need a clean nightgown and housecoat, please and I want to get up in the wheelchair.” In a rush, she sat up quickly and swung her legs over the side of the bed. She was about to stand when blackness folded suddenly around her. Miss Green instantly supported her, one arm around her shoulders, leaning in while pulling the wheelchair forward with her other arm. “I’m all right. Just a little dizzy.” Carrie barely whispered, tried to stand again, but had no strength. Sternly her nurse contradicted her “No, no you’re not all right. You’re moving too quickly.” Miss Green let go of the wheelchair - this thing is in the way. “There now. Sit back on the bed.” At the same time she rang the call light. One of the nurses aides came quickly to the door. “Come in Mary, towels and wash cloths by the sink - wet one of the wash cloths with cold water. Thank you. I think we’ll be all right now.” In short order, Carrie, no longer dizzy, was washed, her hair combed and tied back, and changed into clean hospital attire. Those tasks completed, she was assisted to the bathroom in the wheelchair. Looking at herself in the mirror she said to herself and then to her nurse “I think I’m ready now - I hope my visitor is still here.....I’m finished in here, Miss Green.”
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“Your bed is all made. Here’s a blanket for your knees. Did we get your socks on? Yes… Now you're ready. Can I bring her in now?….Oh, your mask! Quick put it on.” After ushering Emelina Beaufort into Carrie’s room and reminding them that the visit was only to be 20 minutes, Miss Green left the room, returned to the nurse station and wrote up a brief note in Mrs. Tyler’s chart.
For a few minutes the two women just looked at each other. This very artificial setting for a first meeting was very uncomfortable. Both women were thinking the same thing, that the letters they wrote had been easy, merely polite conversation between strangers. Neither of them knew what to say. Silence ballooned in the room. Behind their masks, they both started to smile. A smile that crept up to their eyes only visible by the appearance of tiny, crinkling smile lines at the corners of their eyes. “So who goes first?” Emelina popped the balloon with just four words. Carrie settled more comfortably in her chair “I suppose I should. I’m kind of the host. I really don’t know what to say. I can’t believe that you’re actually here, that I’m actually talking to you.”
Emelina had just come to the hospital on a whim, wanting to meet this young woman who had stirred up the past. At first she just wanted to wait until Carrie was out of the hospital, but the more she thought about it, the more excited she got. “Let’s go slow. We really don’t know anything more than we are new friends.”
“Haven’t you seen the photo or the adoption papers? Surely you’d recognize the photo and the signatures.” Carrie, in one of her foggy dreamy states from yesterday or the day before, was sure Emelina had seen both of them. So certain that she believed it to be true.
“No, I haven’t. As far as I know I am waiting on the Social Worker to verify them with someone….I don’t really know what he - or she - has to do. How is your memory about the signatures? Did your parents tell you anything about where you were born?” Emelina’s curiosity had won out over her initial awkwardness.
“What did they tell me? My memory is so hit or miss, that I’ll have to think more about it. Mom and Dad don’t even know I’m in the hospital. They're probably worried sick. They haven’t heard from me in - how long have I been here? Probably before that. I’ll call them and…” Pulling a tissue from the box on her lap, she dried her tears. “Seems I have very little emotional control. The only thing I remember is that I had to come here to Hartley - I didn’t plan on getting sick like this, though.” Carrie and Emelina both laughed, breaking any remaining tension. “You might ask the Social Worker to see if you were born here. I don’t know what name you would have been registered under, but he may be able to find out.”
There was a light knock on the door to Carrie’s room. A nurses aide stepped just inside. “I have a message for you, Mrs.Tyler. The Social Worker called and said he’d be up here in half an hour.” Turning to Emelina she said. “I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to cut your visit short. We need to have time to clean the chairs and touch surfaces between visitors.” At the sound of a call bell, in a flash she was gone.
Emelina stood to go. She wanted desperately to touch this young woman, even if it was a gentle hand to her thin hand. Choking on emotion, she just said “I’ve left my phone number with the nurses. If, for any reason, you want to call me, please do.” Just before leaving the room, Emelina turned back, her eyes smiling “And, Carrie, please remember to call your parents.”
“A certain awkwardness marks the use of borrowed thoughts; but
as soon as we have learned what to do with then, they become our own.”
~ Ralph Waldo Emerson
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