June 19, 1946 and After, part two

Leta's body temperature suddenly rose. She stepped back from the bathroom door. Her heart rate went up so quickly that she could not only feel, but also hear it. She knew, but she did not want to believe. She opened the bathroom door again, pushing it a little bit harder. Her husband Robert’s leg only gave slightly, maybe another inch, and not willingly. He was lying on the floor in such a way that she could not see his face. He was on his side with his legs spread apart like the blades of a pair of scissors that were shaken free from the hand and let fall. She watched him. She did not know how long she stood there; time had become meaningless to her. He remained still, but every time she blinked, she wondered if perhaps she might be wrong, that he had moved a little.

It was still dark, but with the slight glow from the bathroom combined with the natural ambient light, she made her way down the stairs and to the telephone. First, she called for an ambulance. Then she telephoned her daughter Vivian. The telephone rang several times before her daughter answered. The voice was deeper than usual, but smooth and steady, unlike most individuals who were awakened abruptly.

“Hello?” she said.

“Vivian, it’s Ma,” Leta said, trying to maintain her composure, although her calm started slipping quickly upon hear her daughter’s voice.

“Ma?” Vivian was even more alert. “What is it?”

“Bob fell. He’s in the bathroom.”

“He fell?” Vivian inquired. “Is he all right?”

Leta listened to her own breathing. Her mouth was open, and she had to pause before more explanatory words formed themselves.

“He’s still lying there.” A picture of her husband in the bathroom flashed in her mind. “Maybe he threw up,” she said aloud, as if her daughter was not listening on the other end of telephone line. Then she listened again to her own breathing.

“Ma?” Vivian said gently after waiting for more information. Her warm voice drew Leta back into the conversation.

“I’ve called for an ambulance.”

“Yes, of course,” Vivian agreed. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“Good-by,” Leta said in response and hung up the telephone.

The telephone was settled on a little table in a corner of the dining room, nearest the kitchen. They had a little wooden desk for it with a little chair. She rarely talked long on the telephone so she never sat down, but this morning, she pulled the chair out and sat on it. It was wood, and she was uncomfortable. She should have gone right back up stairs to check on Bob, but she lacked the wherewithal to move. She wasn’t even sure if she was breathing.

All she felt was emptiness.

When the ambulance arrived, she directed the medical personnel to the bathroom. They were friendly and confident young men. One of them pushed on the door and called her husband’s name. He looked at his partner, who then gently took her by the arm.

“Come with me into the bedroom and tell me what happened,” he said in a soft voice. She obeyed. The first young man stood at the bathroom door and watched them walk away. He turned on the bedroom light. She was embarrassed, because the bed was unmade, some clothes were lying about, and their suitcases were sitting against one wall. Robert’s was still open on her vanity’s stool, as she was still packing it.

“Please, sit down,” he said, and she obeyed.

“He’s dead, isn’t he?” she asked.

He was startled by her question, and froze for an instant before releasing a large breath of air.

“Yes, Mrs. Fields, we believe so.”

To be continued.