Paperback
-
PICK UP IN STORECheck Availability at Nearby Stores
Available within 2 business hours
Related collections and offers
Overview
Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9781452032351 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | AuthorHouse |
| Publication date: | 07/29/2010 |
| Pages: | 208 |
| Product dimensions: | 6.00(w) x 9.00(h) x 0.48(d) |
Read an Excerpt
The Obituary
By Mario Martinez
AuthorHouse
Copyright © 2010 Mario MartinezAll right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4520-3235-1
Chapter One
It was and a typically cold December morning in Ames, Iowa. Liz flung open the door to Brenda's mobile home without knocking. She announced herself with a robust, "Hey Brenda, it's me! How's it going?" Without any outward expression, Brenda answered, "Pretty good. I just put on a fresh pot, ready for some coffee?" Always ready for some sort of offering, as long as it was free, Liz chirped, "Sure - you got any donuts?" to which Brenda replied, "I thought you were trying to lose weight." "I am but I figured the worst that could happen is you could say 'yes'." "Well, I don't have any donuts but how about some toast or cereal?" Liz replied with some disappointment, "Well, if that's all you're gonna offer me, okay - I'll have both!"Liz had picked up the morning paper from Brenda's driveway. She set it on the breakfast table and opened the section containing the local news. She scanned page after page looking for anything that might make for interesting reading. Several minutes passed without either one speaking or looking up. It was an all too familiar daily exchange between these two women. Neither one had much to say but they were comfortable in each other's company. It was a mundane existence.
Neither woman was attractive by any standard. Their days of youthful excitement and adventure were long gone and their lives were steep in boredom. Brenda wore an old tattered robe and slippers. She didn't have time for make up, at least not on a weekend day. The rollers in her hair were put on haphazardly but were doing nothing more than keeping the hair off the back of her neck. Liz on the other hand, wore heavy make up and her clothes were better suited for someone several years her junior. She was a career divorcee and spent a great deal of time trying to make herself appear ten years younger, to no avail. Her attitude was sarcastic and cynical which contributed to her three divorces. If one were asked to describe Liz, tacky and low-class would immediately come to mind. Even her closest friends would agree.
Liz spoke first. "It's pretty quiet in here. Are we alone?"
"Yeah, Brian took the girls to Toys-R-Us. Julie got a gift card for her birthday and couldn't wait to spend it. I asked Brian to fix the dripping sink but he got out of it by volunteering to take the kids out. Well, he only postponed the inevitable. I'll ask him again once he gets home. He just doesn't know it. But isn't that like a typical man? When we're dating, they'll just about walk on water for us but once they have us, good luck getting them to change a light bulb."
Liz continued thumbing through the newspaper as they talked. With a slight hint of interest in her voice, she said, "Listen to this obituary: Sister Mary Margaret Farley, MS, 1917-1996, Born: Keokuk, Iowa; Died: El Castillo, Guatemala. She had no family." Barely curious, Brenda asked, "What's MS?" "I think it means Mother Superior." "Oh right, that makes sense." After a slight pause to do the math, she added, "A seventy nine year old nun. The poor dear - and what a short obituary, too! She must not have done much in her life. But I wonder how someone from Keokuk wound up in Guatemala." Liz sarcastically said, "Who knows? Who cares? I just wonder if she ever had a man!" "For crying out loud Liz, you're such a slut! She was a nun! How could she have had a man?" Through her laughter, Liz replied, "Sorry, I don't know what I was thinking."
Chapter Two
Miss Henderson's Orphanage in Ames, Iowa was no different than all the other such homes that dotted the Midwestern states in 1927. The winters in the 1920's were some of the coldest on record and the cholera and flu epidemics of 1925 accounted for many of the newly orphaned children. Adults and children succumbed by the thousands.A kindly sounding voice called out. "Mary! Mary Margaret! Mary Margaret Farley! If you can hear me, please answer!" A young voice responded, "I heard you but I wish you'd call me 'Margie'. I hate being called Mary Margaret," she added. "Well, a proper young lady answers to her God given name and wears nice dresses. But look at you! You dress like a boy, you climb trees faster than anyone around here and then you don't come when I call you! I just wish you wouldn't make me ask you three times to do one thing." Mary, seeing that she caused Miss Henderson some frustration, apologized. "Sorry ma'am. It won't happen again but please call me 'Margie'. That's what my mom and dad called me. The only time they used all of my names was when I was in trouble." She sheepishly added with a wry smile, "Am I in trouble?"
Miss Henderson conceded, "No you're not. My lord, for a ten year old child, you sure seem to be pretty sure of yourself."
Margie was tall and gangly and she wondered if she would ever grow into her long legs. One could see that she would eventually become a beautiful woman. She was pretty and had long dark brown hair. It was very fine and any slight breeze would blow it into her face. However, as with most children, it took time for their beauty to emerge and that was the case with Margie.
Life at the orphanage was average at best. Miss Henderson had no formal training as a childcare provider but in the 1920s, many of the older generation had not completed high school. Miss Henderson took in as many children as her house would accommodate and sometimes more than the State would allow. Most times, there were a dozen or more children at the former boarding house. The children slept four to a room and sometimes two to a bed. In cases of overcrowding, the State sometimes looked the other way to allow for women such as Donna Henderson to take in more wards than the State could legally allow. Orphaned children needed a home and the State was glad when people like Miss Henderson stepped forward to open their homes and their hearts to them.
Donna Henderson was very kind but could only do so much. She had two assistants, one to cook, the other to do laundry. Miss Henderson did everything else. For the most part, the children were happy but it was difficult for Miss Henderson to give individualized attention to each child. There just were not enough hours in the day. The older children understood this fact and they took it unto themselves to become stand-in parents to the younger children. In doing so, they sacrificed their own childhoods.
The best times were birthdays and during the holidays. Although gifts were not plentiful, good cheer was and there was plenty of that to go around. Any gifts the children received were of the practical variety, usually a new pair of shoes or some new clothes that were not of the hand-me-down variety. There was always an air of excitement when prospective parents showed up. Everyone was on their best behavior, hoping to get chosen for adoption.
A couple of prospective parents entered Miss Henderson's office. "Hello Mr. and Mrs. Carlson. May I ask, what led you to our orphanage?"
Mr. Carlson spoke first. "'As we said in our letter to you, the flu left my wife too weak to bear any children so we figured there are plenty of children right here in Ames who need parents. Maybe we can find a baby here today." Miss Henderson, who had a special fondness for Margie, always tried to direct interest to her. "We have a beautiful young ten year old girl. She's very bright and would bring joy to any family. Her parents died in a house fire and she has been with us for two years."
Mrs. Carlson replied, "Well, I was actually hoping for a real baby. You know, a little younger."
Trying hard to promote Margie's case, Miss Henderson pleaded, "I wish you'd give her a chance. You won't regret it. She's a wonderful girl!"
Mrs. Carlson was firm when she responded, "I'm sorry. I want a baby."
"Very well, then. I'm sure we'll find you a baby to take home today."
Miss Henderson left the office to retrieve the proper forms and found Margie outside of the office, apparently having heard the entire conversation.
"I'm sorry Margie. I suppose you heard everything."
"I did, but that's okay. I was really disappointed the other times you tried to find me some new parents and when they didn't want me, I was sad but I'm used to it now. Nobody wants old kids, anyway. They all want babies."
Miss Henderson admired Margie for her understanding and told her, "Margie, you are such a special girl. I only wish I could keep you for myself." She did not realize how prophetic those words would become.
After Miss Henderson walked into another office, Margie allowed herself to remember the few short years she had with her parents. Their house was on the banks of the Mississippi River. Margie's father, Henry, was a rural farmer until the plans to build a hydroelectric power plant in town were approved. He started as a laborer but his ability to organize people soon became evident and he quickly became a shift foreman. Respected by his fellow workers, he rose through the ranks, rather than being a token appointment. Margie's mother, Anna, was a seamstress who earned money by sewing clothing for the neighboring families. She also canned peaches and tomatoes and sold them at local fairs. She would spend some of her free time at the downtown opera house, performing in two-act plays. The pay was meager, barely enough to buy stage make-up, but Keokuk in the 1920s had fewer than three thousand people and the auditorium was seldom half full, even on a Saturday night. Still, Anna enjoyed it and Henry encouraged her to continue. Margie remembered they were a happy family. Then she remembered the night of the fire. It was a bitterly cold evening. Henry Farley could not keep enough logs in the fireplace. The more logs he put in, the bigger the flames got but the house remained cold. Anna shoved cloth scraps between the cracks of the windows and doors to keep out the knife-like breezes than found their way inside through tiny openings. The back door had the biggest openings so Henry Farley took a spare mattress, leaned it against the door and secured it with the heavy dining table. That kept in a little more of the heat from the fireplace. After Margie was put to bed, Anna covered her with an extra quilt. Margie's room was the furthest from the fireplace, and nearest the front door, so it received very little of the heat. Before retiring for the evening, Henry Farley threw a few more logs in the fireplace. Sometime during the night, a wet log exploded, sending large embers onto the wooden floor. It ignited quickly, causing the house to burst into flames. Margie's parents were up immediately but could not put out the fire. Their shouts to Margie awoke her and she was instructed to go out the front door. Henry and Anna Farley tried to escape through the rear door but it was blocked off by the dining table. The path to the front of the house was engulfed in flames. There was no way out. Their deaths were slow and painful. Margie's young mind could not comprehend any more of this so she quickly went outside, not wanting to try and understand the loss of her parents. Once outside, she was alone and, being one of the older children at the orphanage, she only had herself to provide the comfort and solace that she needed. She climbed a tree, sat there and cried.
As the years passed, Margie was resigned to the fact that she would probably "age out" at the orphanage. That is, if she reached the age of eighteen without being adopted, the State strongly suggested that she be asked to leave since the orphanage always seemed to be overcrowded and Miss Henderson would need the space that Margie's departure would provide.
In the spring and summer months, Margie would sit on the banks of the Mississippi River watching the riverboats drift by. There were medical boats passing through to the larger cities and Margie wondered what it would be like to work on a ship. She would occasionally see nurses in their starched white uniforms standing on the deck. She would wave to them. Sometimes they would wave back. Margie thought to herself how exciting it would be to become a nurse and to get out of Iowa.
Chapter Three
Iowa State University was just a few miles from the orphanage but it seemed worlds away. Margie was well aware of its location. Ames was considered a big city but by big city standards, it wasn't that big at all and it had a small town feel. No building was taller than three stories. All this suited Margie just fine. Having grown up in the cozy confines of the orphanage, she had developed a comfort level from which she seldom strayed. And, at that time, colleges were encouraged to provide an education to wards of the State, providing that the State paid the tuition. Margie fell into that category and enrolled at ISU.Margie was unsure of which course of study to pursue but, knowing she would have no one but herself to depend upon for support, she chose nursing, a profession she knew was in great demand, regardless of where in the world she would finally settle. She also thought it would be a glamorous profession.
Margie spent the first few weeks acclimating herself to her new surroundings. She met many new people but was easily drawn to Annie Wilson. Annie was a little shorter than Margie. A pretty girl with freckles, her light blond hair was a stark contrast to Margie's, which was dark brown. As with many people who have light complexions, Annie couldn't tan in a lifetime of summers while Margie took it for granted that in the summer months, she would be a golden brown, often being mistaken for Native American or Mexican. Aside from their physical differences, they had similar backgrounds: Annie also grew up in an orphanage, was never adopted and was also considered a "ward of the State" but unlike Margie, whose parents died in a house fire, Annie was the product of an unplanned and unwanted pregnancy and was turned over to the State upon her birth. She never knew her parents. However, neither girl had any self-pity. Those feelings had passed years ago for both of them. Each was a realist, knowing that their survival was their own responsibility and that there was no one to count on but themselves. And now, they had each other.
Neither Margie nor Annie had any big dreams or plans. They just wanted to get through school and, once completed, they might have a better idea of what they would do with their lives. They had traveled similar paths to reach the same destination and, at the moment, were content just to be in each other's company. That friendship would sustain them in the coming years.
The girls took classes in anatomy and physiology. As part of their training, they were assigned to the local Veterans Hospital. In addition to honing their nursing skills, their duties also included bathing patients, mostly male. Margie was often embarrassed when patients would respond firmly to the washing of their private areas. Annie on the other hand found it arousing and quite pleasurable. She would sometimes see to what level she could arouse her patients without them actually reaching a climax. None of the patients seemed to mind when Annie was their nurse. Margie would remind Annie that they were training to become professionals and they should act accordingly. They had a conversation in whispers:
"You know you shouldn't tease the patients like that", Margie urged.
"I can't help it, I like the way it feels and so do they so I like to make them happy!"
"Well, they're enjoying it too much and if someone complains, you could get kicked out of the nursing program!"
"No one's complained yet."
"Not yet, but just wait. Somebody may," Margie warned.
"Come on, don't tell me you haven't enjoyed touching a hard guy!"
Margie confessed, "Well, yes, but just because it's different. Oh Annie, I just wish you wouldn't enjoy it so much!"
Annie could always make Margie see things her way. However, from then on and just to appease Margie, she was more discreet but still took pleasure in easing her patients' need for an occasional release. And, after some resistance, so did Margie.
During their final year at Iowa State, Annie happened to see a poster in the student union encouraging graduating students to: "See the world - join the Red Cross". War was brewing in Europe and the battlegrounds were in dire need of medical professionals. Annie heard a calling but Margie was less enthusiastic. "What do you say Margie? Should we join?" "We could get killed", Margie warned. "Or we could not" Annie shot back. Margie questioned Annie's reasons for wanting to volunteer. "What makes you think we could make a difference anyhow?" "I don't know. I really don't know anything about the war or Europe but there has to be more to this world than just Ames, Iowa and I plan to see it" was all Annie could offer. "Well, I hope you know what we're getting into because I sure don't" Margie said warily.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from The Obituary by Mario Martinez Copyright © 2010 by Mario Martinez. Excerpted by permission.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.