Abandoned. John Schlarbaum
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one is no longer in pain and suffering.”
Maryanne looked affectionately at Luke and put her hand in his. “I feel the same way when I release a body to the funeral home.”
Watching the two lovebirds, Jennifer felt a twinge of jealousy. “So, Luke, why is Helga different, aside from her request not to be killed?”
“I guess it freaked me out. She reminded me of my grandmother and if she made the same statement at her nursing home, I’d be worried too.”
“Then to have Helga die, you stop and wonder if she wasn’t telling the truth,” Maryanne chimed in. “As a security guard and fledgling journalist that’s how I reacted.”
Yes, Maryanne, I recall you’re a budding reporter, Jennifer thought, annoyed by this declaration as she checked her watch. “Did Helga mention any family in the area or her address?”
“Only that when she was 10 years old her and her brother left Germany. I don’t know if he’s still alive,” Luke said. “Her medical chart listed her home out in Greenheart Station. I don’t recall the specific address.”
Jennifer jotted down the information. “Do you remember what room she was in?”
“8103.”
“When will that room be cleaned?”
“Fairly quickly,” Luke replied. “The floor could already know that Helga was going straight to I.C.U. A housekeeper would then clean 8103 for a new patient.”
“What about her belongings?”
“Normally, a porter would be dispatched to get the patient’s belongings and take them to the new room.”
Jennifer pondered this information. “Luke, without causing suspicion, could you go to 8103 and see if there’s anything out of the ordinary? I don’t want you to get in trouble.”
Luke and Maryanne exchanged glances before he said, “I can do that. As a transporter I’m in and out of rooms all the time trying to find pillows, I.V. pumps or nurses.” He stood, ready to begin his new assignment. “Even if the room has been cleaned, I know the housekeeper on duty and can ask if she bagged any belongings.”
“Bagged?” Jennifer asked.
Maryanne got up and smiled. “That’s where I might be helpful, as security is in charge of securing deceased patient’s belongings, until they are claimed by the family.”
“And if they aren’t claimed?” Jennifer inquired.
“Clothing is donated to area thrift shops or possibly thrown out. I do know we hold onto it for thirty days.”
After promising Luke and Maryanne that she’d be in touch, Jennifer remained at the table to add to her notes. She wasn’t certain this was any kind of news story beyond the obligatory obituary notice. It was, however, a nice, albeit bizarre, distraction from the cheating councilman and his missing-in-action honey pot circus she’d been chasing the past two weeks.
On a whim, Jennifer called the hospital switchboard, asked for room 8103 and was put through. Two rings later, a familiar voice hesitantly answered the phone.
“Hello?”
“Luke?”
It took him a few beats to catch on. “Jennifer?”
“Yes, it’s me. I’m still outside,” she said. “You work fast, don’t you?”
“Maryanne went on patrol and I headed here. I only see the clothes Helga came in with.”
“Any cards or flowers?”
“No cards, probably because she came directly from E.R. and not too long after went down for surgery. There are some flowers though, which is interesting,” Luke said, excitement in his voice. “A dozen yellow carnations and a card that reads, All the best, Helga! See you soon!”
“Somebody knew her,” Jennifer said. “Is there a store name or phone number on the back of the card?”
Luke gently removed the card and flipped it over. “It’s from the hospital gift shop.”
“Luke, I have a call for you, if you’re done with your break,” a female voice said on his work phone.
“I have to go, Jennifer,” he said. “Do you want me to take the card?”
“No, leave it. Good work though. You’re all right, Luke,” Jennifer said. “In the interim, if possible, see if you can find anything dealing with Helga’s operation or what happened in I.C.U. I’ll be in touch.”
“I’ll do my best,” Luke replied.
While Luke and Maryanne did their respective insider’s work on her behalf, Jennifer visited the gift shop. The selection of items for sale were of the generic something-for-everyone variety, from books and stuffed animals, to trinkets, cheap jewellery and greeting cards for any occasion. However, what really caught her eye was the flower cooler containing a bunch of yellow carnations.
“Excuse me,” Jennifer said to a pink vested female volunteer named Mary. “Do you have any more yellow carnations, aside from the six here in the cooler?”
The woman looked surprised by the request. “We had over two dozen yesterday,” she said as she walked past Jennifer. “They’re very popular.” She turned to Jennifer. “They certainly brighten up a room.”
“They do,” Jennifer agreed. “I’m just a day late.”
The volunteer studied the remaining selection of flowers. “What if you bought the carnations and a couple roses? That combination would cheer me up.”
Jennifer tried to give the outward expression of thinking about such a purchase. “My heart was set on a full dozen. Will there be a delivery in the morning?”
The volunteer returned to the counter, picked up a spiral-bound binder and leafed through the pages.
“Yes, a new shipment is coming tomorrow. Do you want me to hold twelve for you?”
Jennifer hesitated as she examined the security camera facing down from the ceiling. “If it’s no bother,” she said.
“And your name?”
“It’s Jennifer.”
The volunteer wrote the name on a pad and taped it next to the cash register. “There – in case I can’t make it in for the morning shift. Now, is there anything else, dear?”
“No, that’s it. Thank you for your help.” Jennifer prepared to exit the shop, but stopped. “This may sound like an unusual request ... Could you ask the other volunteers working earlier if they remember if the buyer was a male or female?” The volunteer was perplexed. “It’s a long story that I don’t want to bore you with – family issues, sibling rivalries – that type of thing. I just want to be sure no one from my clan bought those flowers.”
An expression of empathy flashed over the volunteer’s face. “Wasteful drama. The worst times for any family are when a parent is hospitalized or dies, or there’s a wedding.”
“That’s true,” Jennifer said with a smile. “Okay, that’s it, again. I’ll be back tomorrow morning. See you then.”
The volunteer wrote a second note to be taped below the first: Who bought a dozen yellow carnations? Important! ~ Mary.
On her way toward the front lobby escalator, Jennifer saw a middle-aged man with a take-out bag in one hand, and a helium balloon that read: Congratulations!
If he can wander around the hospital unsupervised, why can’t I? Jennifer followed the stranger to the bank of elevators, where they both entered the same car.
“Floor?” the man asked Jennifer.
She noted he’d already pushed “7” and said, “Eight, please. Thank