Help for Loretta

Across the empty cafeteria, an old woman sat at a table by herself in the corner by the kitchen door. She had stringy white hair and was hunched at the shoulders. She was rocking back at forth.

Help! she said, not quite a shout but certainly not spoken to herself. Then she got louder. Heeeeellp. As she rocked, her plea echoed in the empty room. Help. Somebody! Help me. Help me, Please!

From time to time, kitchen staff would walk into or out of the door and say something quietly to her as they went by, but still she continued.

The two other women in the cafeteria paid no mind to her but stuck to their own tasks: one wheeling herself in minute increments to her favorite table in the middle of the room; the other periodically trying to sit up and get out of her chair, gasping with big breaths between each failed attempt.

Nobody answered the old woman's call.

Here, I'll take it, the woman in the kitchen said.

A man had come into the cafeteria to put a dirty glass in the sink. As he turned to leave, the old woman looked up at him and caught his eye.

Please help me, she said in a quiet voice. Please don't leave me here.

I can sit and talk with you a while, he said as he pulled up a chair. Her left eye tracked him closely as he sat down and put his hand on her arm.

What's your name? he asked.

Loretta, she said.

And they talked for a while, and he got her some juice from the kitchen, and she took her medicine.

I'll come back before I leave, he told her as he stood up to leave.

Please don't forget, she asked.

I won't.

It was time to go. The day had drawn on. It was dark outside. They had a long drive ahead of them, a drive neither looked forward to.

They put on their coats and walked down the hall out to the lobby past the nurse's station, past a few old women sitting silently in their wheelchairs with blankets on their laps.

Wait, he said. I told Loretta I'd say goodbye. And went back to the cafeteria.

It was dinner time. The room that was empty before was busy now. All the tables were full. The staff were passing out trays and napkins and glasses of juice. The patients were all focused on the meals before them.

And on the far side of the room, Loretta was sitting in her corner by the kitchen door. He could spot her easily in her bright red gown. She was draining another glass of juice. He walked up to her and touched her arm.

I'm going home, Loretta, he said. Goodbye.

She set her glass on the table and looked at him with her piercing left eye. Thank you, she said. Come visit me when you come back.

Ok, he said and patted her on the shoulder. And Merry Christmas.

Merry Christmas to you.

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