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Tonya turned and walked back to her car.
Chapter Eight
Natsinet had stood by the living room window, watching through the curtains as Tonya got into her car and drove away.
She surveyed the neighborhood below her quickly, frowning as she did so. What a hellhole. To have accomplished so much in life—setting aside this woman’s criminal past—and to live in such squalor! Natsinet did not understand why somebody of Adelle’s supposed stature would want to live here. It was people like her that made the whole so-called Civil Rights thing a farce. They complained about being mistreated a hundred and forty years after slavery ended, whined about not getting the jobs they felt they deserved, yet they remained in these crime-infested hovels and preyed on each other. If Adelle Smith had really spent so much time helping inner-city youth, not to mention inspiring other Black people to do the same, why was there still so much rampant crime in the older sections of major cities like Philadelphia? Why didn’t these people get off their asses and do something with their lives instead of whining and complaining about not being treated fairly?
Thinking about it, knowing she had to spend the next five days caring for this old, worthless woman was not a good thing.
It was infuriating. These were the same people she’d had to deal with everyday in the ER. They were the same people who’d…
Natsinet stormed away from the windows and paced the living room. Her eyes swept the room, taking in the sofa and easy chair, the TV, the end table with framed photographs and what looked like a trophy. Natsinet picked up the trophy and read the inscription. For significant contributions toward the Civil Rights Movement. The NAACP award.
A police siren warbled from outside, soon joined by another. Probably another homicide. So many goddamn animals in the inner-city, they were like rats crammed in a cage. And when too many rats were in a cage together, they fought and eliminated the weaker. Survival of the fittest.
Good riddance, Natsinet thought as she headed to the master bedroom.
* * *
Adelle had been coming to a slow sense of wakefulness the past few minutes and now she opened her eyes. She knew she was in her bedroom, knew Tonya wasn’t here. The last thing Adelle remembered was her conversation with Tonya at the hospital when her daughter told her that she would try to hang around the apartment until she woke up, that she would try to drop in later in the week.
“They’ve got me at these board meetings every day this week and Gerald is teaching class in the evenings,” she’d told her. “I’ll try to bring Tess over some night, but I know the earliest I can get away will probably be Friday.”
Today was, what? Monday? Adelle and Tonya had had that conversation this morning, a nurse had given her something to help her sleep, and the next thing she remembered was Tonya telling her that she would follow the ambulance on the ride to the apartment.
And now she was home.
Somebody was here though, and Adelle tried turning her head to see who it was. Her left side felt completely numb, and it took considerable strain to lift her right arm into a more comfortable position across her abdomen. She was able to shift her head slightly on the pillow and for a minute her vision swam as her eyes adjusted to the dim lighting of the room. A light-skinned Black woman dressed in a nurse’s uniform entered the room and approached her bedside. The home care nurse.
The nurse wouldn’t look at her as she checked her pulse and heartbeat and made notations in a chart. “You had a nice nap?” the nurse asked. “How do you feel?”
Adelle struggled to speak. “…’kay…”
The nurse continued writing in her chart. “Good. I’ll be preparing your dinner in about an hour. Chicken Soup.”
“Pay….per…” Adelle managed to say. The nurse looked at her and Adelle motioned to a notepad and a pen lying on the bureau. “Pen.”
The nurse retrieved the pen and paper and set them on Adelle’s stomach. Adelle gripped the pen and began to write. “I’m sorry my speech is limited. What’s your name?”
“My name is Natsinet Zenawi,” the nurse said.
Adelle smiled. Or tried to, at least. “What a beautiful name,” she wrote. “Let me guess…Ethiopian?”
There was the faintest hint of a frown on the nurse’s face. “No. I am Eritrean. Two separate countries.”
Now it was Adelle’s turn to frown. She wrote again. “I’m sorry. My mistake. So much tragedy has occurred in that country…so many changes—”
“Actually, it doesn’t matter to me where I come from,” the nurse said, overriding Adelle’s train of thought. “I’m here to care for you for the next five days. Is there anything you need?”
Adelle thought about it, trying not to let her dismay show. This woman had a curt edge to her she found disconcerting. She flipped a page up to a new sheet, then wrote, “When does my physical therapy start?”
There was no mistaking that frown now. “Uh uh,” Natsinet said, shaking her head. Her irritation turned swiftly to anger that seemed to come from nowhere. “No, I’m not doing that. It’s not what I signed up for.”
Adelle gave a startled gasp. The doctors and nurses at the hospital told her she would have in-home nursing and physical rehabilitation. Tonya had brought in a combined nurse and physical therapist from Hospice Nursing in Philadelphia—the best in the state. She didn’t understand. “I thought —” She started writing.
“You thought nothing,” Natsinet said, and there was no mistaking the venom in that voice now. “If you’d had an original thought in your wrinkled head, you would have moved out of this hell-hole years ago. I am not providing you with physical therapy. Fuck that and fuck you!”
Adelle gasped again. She couldn’t believe this woman had cursed her. Quickly gaining her composure, she scribbled on the paper. “Fine. Please bring me the phone. I need to make a phone call.”
“And report me? Fuck you again.” And with that Natsinet leaned over the bed, grabbed Adelle beneath her armpits and hauled her out of bed. Adelle gave a mangled yell; her right arm flopped uselessly as she tried to maneuver it to strike at the younger woman, but she was too weak.
“You want physical therapy?” And before she knew it, Natsinet dragged her out of the bed and threw her to the floor. She hit the hardwood floor hard, coming down on her right forearm, hip, and shoulder. A flare of agony stabbed into her right side, and as she tried to struggle into a position to hoist herself up she flopped over on her stomach in a truly helpless position. Help me, she thought, not even aware of the pain that wracked her right side and her wrist.
“There you go.” Natsinet said above her. “Now climb back into bed yourself! How’s that for physical therapy?”
Adelle was certain she blacked out at that point. Her next memory was lying in bed—how she got there she had no recollection of, but Natsinet had obviously gotten her back in somehow. The nurse was standing beside her, a smirk on her face.
Please, Adelle thought.
Natsinet leaned over her. “You are not going to spread false rumors about me…correct?”
Adelle could only look at the nurse, her eyes growing wide with terror. There was no sense of compassion in the younger woman’s face. No sense that she’d done anything wrong.
“Did you hear what I just said?”
Trembling, Adelle moved her head slightly. A nod. Yes.
“Good. Nobody will believe you anyway. The medication you are on has a possible side effect of hallucinations.”
For the first time Adelle realized her pad of paper and pen were gone. Tears of frustration and rage welled from her eyes. She felt trapped in this body that was now broken and useless. Her right side and wrist ached with a dull throb.
“You are going to lie here and do nothing,” Natsinet continued. “You will eat when I feed you, urinate and shit when I take you to the bathroom, and sleep when I tell you to. And that’s about all you are going to get from me. If I can find a way to avoid touching you at all I will. Furthermore, when my five days are
up you will say nothing to nobody. Remember, you will be so doped up that nobody will believe you. And I’m only off for two days so I’ll be back and I’ll know if you’ve been talking.”
They’ll believe me alright you hateful woman! Adelle thought.
“Remember…you’re under my care now.” Natsinet’s face was pure evil. “You can complain all you want, but this time complaining and bitching won’t do shit for you.”
What the hell is she trying to say? Adelle thought.
Natsinet continued her rant, as if she knew what Adelle was thinking. “Oh yes, I know all about you. Big Civil Rights leader. Bitch and complain about how the White man is holding you down, the White man won’t let you po’ Black folks get ahead!” Natsinet’s voice adopted a mocking ghetto-speak. “Well guess what, sister? That’s your damn fault! You had all the chances in the world and here you are still stuck in the ghetto with the animals. And they’re still animals. Out there killing each other every night. Rutting like pigs and creating more little bastards for the welfare system. This is what your little Civil Rights movement left behind. You took away all of their excuses and they still haven’t done shit with their lives. All people like you ever did was cry and moan and complain about equality and yet you never assimilated into society. You still live and act like savages. And don’t tell me about how you haven’t had the same opportunities or how the legacy of slavery destroyed the Black man’s sense of identity and self-worth or destroyed the Black family structure. You fools did this to yourselves! You stayed in these slums and fed off your own people. Your men killed each other, sold their women. Black men didn’t protect their women during slavery. They let the White man rape and abuse them. They didn’t protect their children, and they don’t now. They—”
Adelle was so angry at the nurse’s rant that she lashed out. Her right arm flew out and she grasped Natsinet’s left wrist. If she’d had the ability for speech she would have let loose with a hearty, “Fuckin’ bitch, I’m gonna kick your ass!” What came out instead was a muffled “Fffff—”
Natsinet jerked her wrist away. “What the fuck? You think you can hit me?” And then before she knew what was happening Natsinet punched her in the face with her bony fist, driving her head down into the pillows.
If it hadn’t been for the stroke Adelle was sure she would have felt greater pain from the blow, but she didn’t. She was more surprised by the ferocity of the blow, by the fact she’d been punched in the face by her home care nurse at all. Barely aware of the thin trickle of blood leaking from her nose, Adelle glared at Natsinet, who loomed over her, fists clenched. “I oughta beat the fuck out of you, old bitch!”
Adelle glared at her defiantly. Go on. Hit an old disabled woman. I dare you!
Something in Natsinet’s features changed. Her look of fierce anger once again changed to cunning evil. She grinned. “I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking you’re gonna wait out the five days I’m here with you and then you’re gonna complain to somebody and I’ll be dealt with. That ain’t gonna happen. I’m not gonna give you that chance even if I have to keep you drugged out of your mind the entire time.”
She leaned closer to Adelle. She reminded Adelle of a deadly snake about to devour its prey. “I’m the only person you’re going to see until the other nurse comes to relieve me in five days. You are entirely dependent on me now, to eat, to go to the bathroom, to get your medications, to wash your stinking Black ass. Your life depends on me. You piss me off and by tomorrow you’re gonna wish I was dead. By the end of the week, you’re gonna wish you were dead.”
Oh my goodness, she’s going to torture me! Adelle thought. She couldn’t help herself. Pure panic flooded her system. She felt her bladder give way. She was too terrified to even be embarrassed.
Adelle noticed the growing stain of urine on the bedsheets. Her upper lip turned up in a snarl of disgust.
“You’re just going to have to lie in it. I’ll be damned if I’m changing those sheets. You people are like a bunch of animals!”
You people? Obviously the woman has not looked in the mirror lately, Adelle thought.
Despite her “high yella” complexion and her green eyes, her lips and nose were unmistakably Black as was her thick wooly hair. The woman had some serious self-hatred going on and she was going to take it all out on Adelle.
Why is she doing this to me?
Adelle remembered something she’d heard one of the Pastors at her church say before one of the many marches she’d attended in her youth.
“Everyone is the hero of their own story. No one is just evil. Even the most hateful, most racist redneck in the South believes in his heart that he is doing what is right. You have to find out why he believes that way before you can change his mind.”
Back then Adelle had no desire to understand racist rednecks. She hadn’t believed in desegregation. She tended to side with the Black Nationalists of the era who believed the White man to be a devil whose sole purpose was to oppress and ultimately destroy the Black race. She was wiser now. Now she knew that old preacher had been right. Everyone thinks their opinion is the right one. Their actions justified. But for the life of her she could not figure out what justification this woman could possibly have for striking an old paralyzed woman. It made no sense to her. Her mind kept going back to the simple solution: she’s just evil. But that thinking left nothing to appeal to. It left no hope at all. If Natsinet was just evil or crazy, then Adelle was a dead woman.
Maybe her Black daddy walked out on her when she was a child or her mother left him for someone her own color? Maybe her mother was Black and her daddy was some rich White guy out for a one night stand who won’t have anything to do with his illegitimate Black baby? Whatever her issues, it doesn’t excuse her behavior. She’s going to pay for this.
Then Adelle had another thought that halted her breath and chilled the blood in her veins: Unless she kills me before I can tell anyone. Who would know if she made it look like an accident or natural causes?
Adelle looked at the woman’s soulless eyes and there was nothing in them that gave any indication of compassion or humanity. She might as well have been looking into the eyes of a shark or some predatory reptile.
She’s going to kill me.
Adelle was as sure of it now as she’d ever been about anything in her life. This woman was going to murder her and Adelle had no idea why.
The nurse stomped out of the room leaving Adelle alone with her fear.
Oh my God. What do I do?
The realization of what had just happened and what was likely to happen during the next five days left Adelle stunned. She stared straight ahead at the open bedroom door that might as well have been locked and guarded for all the use it was to her, at the window less than six feet away from where she was lying, also no use to her. Even if she could get to it she would not be able to call for help. Her words were still all garbled and she could barely speak above a whisper.
Adelle looked frantically around the room, for some type of weapon or something she could use to call for help. There was a framed picture of her standing on the steps of the Washington Monument with Huey P. Newton on one side of her and Eldridge Cleaver and Bobby Seale on the other. She was dressed in a black beret, a black leather jacket, and dark sunglasses, her afro spanning from shoulder to shoulder. She was raising one black gloved fist into the air in the “Power to The People” salute while Bobby Seale gave one of his fiery speeches. What the picture didn’t show were the battalions of police in riot gear directly across from them preparing to bust their heads. Adelle had been young and fearless then. The frame was made out of pewter. If she could somehow get to it she was confident that even in her weakened state, she could brain that psychotic nurse with it.
On another wall was a picture of her with her late husband, Walt. He was in a business suit and they were at a conference in New York hosted by Betty Shabazz, Malcolm X’s widow. He had been such a handsome man then. Tall and strong with a big barrel c
hest and thick arms. She’d always felt so safe in his arms. She wished that he were here now to protect her, but he’d long ago fallen victim to the streets. He’d gotten hooked on heroin during his tour in Vietnam like so many of the young men from her generation. He’d OD’d not long after Tonya was born. Now Adelle was alone except for her daughter and she would not be back to see her for at least another twenty-four hours, maybe even a few days. She doubted Tonya would be calling anytime soon either, because she knew that Adelle was having difficulty speaking and even if she did, Adelle was sure the nurse would intercept it. That meant that at least for the next twenty-four hours she was all on her own.
Adelle pulled a bobby pin out of her hair. It wasn’t much of a weapon, but it was something. She bent it and then raised it to her lips and began trying to gnaw off the little rubber bulbs on the ends of the metal pin. Her jaw muscles wouldn’t work right so it took her almost twenty minutes to finally get the rubber off. She was sweating and tired by the time she’d managed to chew off the ends and straighten it out. She hid it back in her hair and felt only slightly safer. She continued looking around the room for something else she could use. Everything was too far away from her, impossible to get to. She remembered Tonya telling her she’d moved her guns and wished now she hadn’t done so.
Five days until the next nurse came. Adelle wasn’t sure she could make it. Her only hope was that her daughter would check on her soon. Adelle wasn’t afraid of the nurse’s threat of retaliation. Once Tonya got wind of what was going on, this woman would be in jail, if not in the hospital herself. Tonya had grown up on these streets as well, and no matter how much she’d gotten used to her cushy life in the suburbs, when she got mad all the street came right back to the surface. Adelle smiled as she thought of what Tonya could do to Natsinet. It was her only comfort in what she knew would be a long night.