AllFreeNovel
Share Us
How many of us treat the “other woman” badly—not because the other woman did anything inherently bad to us—but because we’re friends with the person she wronged. Shouldn’t a good friend hate by default? How many of us justify a man making cat calls at a woman’s backside—not because we’re okay with his behavior—but because we’re friends with the guy, and it was “just harmless fun.” Doesn’t a good friend catcall as well just to validate the joke?
We’re all guilty, every single one of us.
I don’t blame Billi. Looking at Billi now, she’s doing a pretty good job of that herself.
Most of me can’t even blame this town.
But I do blame the leaders, most of them likely dead by now.
And I blame our society for encouraging its mob mentality-like behavior that feeds on beating up the little guy and taking down anyone who stands in its way. I absolutely blame that.
“The nurse…” Billi stutters, her voice flat in its disbelief. “She really…did that?”
That snaps the old woman out of her trance. She looks between Billi and me, her chin jutted out in consternation. “You think I’m lying? She did it right there in front of me while I lay bleeding out on the floor. I’ve been talking about it since the day it happened, not that it did me any good. I quit talking when no one would listen.”
Billi folds her arms around her middle and leans forward, her mouth open, looking at me as though I should jump in and help. But I can’t, not until I sort things out. This might be the worst story I’ve ever covered. “Well, did she make it right?” Billi asks.
Sally’s eyes narrow as they fill, her chin wobbling a bit with emotion. “What do you think? Look around the room. Do you see any pictures on the wall? Any sign of anyone ever living here besides me?” Her voice breaks on the last word. The room goes quiet other than the sniffling. I don’t respond. Billi can’t respond. Shock has a way of rendering people speechless.
“Well, no wonder,” Billi mutters to herself.
“No wonder what?” Sally snaps, swiping roughly at her eyes.
“No wonder you hate everyone in this town. I would hate them too if they did that to me.”
“Never hated anybody,” the old woman says, surprising us both. “Been too busy wondering my whole life why all of them hated me.”
Her statement is a punch in the gut. Why indeed? To her credit or chagrin, Billi tries to explain it.
“Because of your dad and his accusations?” she offers, but even I hear her newly formed doubt. Like I said, it’s human nature to hate by default. But it takes a good person to finally recognize the fatal flaw in that thinking.
“My papa ain’t me, and he never was. But he was right about the hospital. It’s why everyone hated him in the first place.”
I look at my notepad, still blank through this whole interview. My tape recorder is running, but if I had to guess, I’d say that I’ll never forget this story or the sadness surrounding the old woman telling it. It’s one thing to sit with a person in grief; it’s another to be surrounded by the pointlessness of it all. How do you regret something that never should have happened? How do you reach through time and strangle someone no longer here? And how in God’s name do you take it upon yourself to punish someone so harshly for an opinion formed on heresy?
That nurse had a hell of a judgment day, of that I am certain.
In truth, we all will. And I, for one, want at least a shot at making mine a little easier to take. I use the only defense I have, determined to use it better than ever.
“Can you tell us what happened next?”
Sally shrugs, her old shirt sliding off her shoulder to reveal the papery thin, sunbaked skin of the elderly. According to everything I’ve read, she’s lived most of her adult life outside, cursing the fates of everyone who dared to tread too close. And like Billi said—no wonder.
“I can tell you, but you probably coulda looked it up yourself. It’s all there in the newspapers, even though the reporters spun it to make the story sound better for the town leaders than me.”
I nod, having no doubt. It’s what we news people do when the occasion calls for it. Or when the higher-ups own enough of the newspaper that no one has a choice.
“Tell us anyway. Maybe you can shed a new light on what happened that day.”
Sally laughs, but it’s the sarcastic kind filled with disbelief. “I can shed a new light, alright. But you might find yourself wishing you’d kept the curtains closed.”
I hear Billi swallow, but I forge ahead. Truth does no good when people try to bury it.
“I’ll take my chances,” I say.
Sally locks eyes with me, her gaze roaming over my face once again. Something about her inspection makes me uncomfortable. Without blinking, her eyes narrow.
“Alright, but I have a question for you. And this time, I want a real answer,” she says, still fixing me with that hard stare. I sit back and look at her, wondering what in the world she wants me to say that I haven’t already covered. My pen is poised to take notes even though I’ll likely forget to use it.
