The Many Faces of Marilyn by Author DeAnn DeVille

Chapter Part Two

"Silas I had always watched after my sweet Silas."

Then all of a sudden he was sick and the world went bleak. Everything went foggy until she could see the preacher and the casket. Then a secluded grave stone that was inscribed:

                                                        

                                                          Evelyn Merriam Sumter

Beloved mother of Silas and Marilyn Sumter Whom we will miss forever.

                                                                     1960-1989                                     

      

The cabby suddenly slammed on the brakes and hit reverse. Snapping her aggressively back into the present she grabbed her purse with one hand and her neck with the other.

"I'm sorry, I almost missed the place, it's so hidden, but here you are nice and safe at Sunny Side. Okay, that will be twenty-seven dollars and ten cents."

Rambling through her Gucci wallet she pulled out thirty dollars. Afterwards she shot him a hard stare, and then glanced at his id. Making him aware she was noting his name and taxi number, in case she had a case of whip lash later.

"I'm sorry about the rough ride. I don't have many people stop at this place.Do you want your change?"

"Down to every cent. Two dollars, and ninety two cents."

He counted out slowly as hecould and drove away, leaving her staring at the building that  leaving her staring at the building that seemed to be caught in a mystic abstraction. The gray brick seemed cold and the steps of the stone walked by many feet, yet lonely denounced the name that marked each piece of cement: Sunny Side—Retreat for the Mentally Challenged.

Glancing at the surroundings she felt at peace, in the buildings odd dullness. The mixture of medicine, bleach, and ammonia hit her as she entered the revolving entry way. The rest of the building lies beyond steel doors, and down a narrow corridor.

 Guarded by a lone guard, who set at an enclosed security booth. The guard sat looking over at the lack of people and protecting the patients from themselves and any revolt, in other words he set completely content, doing a crossword puzzle. Fumbling his pencil and book at the sign of a visitor, in case it was the director. He was comforted by the mere smell of a familiar scent of Channel #5. Before even glancing up at her, he called her name.

"Marilyn?"

"Angus...how are you?" (She recited in her usual stern tone.)

"Oh I'm good. We aint seen you around these parts in a while. What been keepin ya? I know that brother of yours misses ya something terrible."

"I know...but duty calls. A reporter's job is never easy, Angus."

"Yeah, you a big DC Newspaper Reporter...its kinda unbelievable considering how quiet you were back in school.

I still remember the first day I saw you at Marshall Goodman High. Looking like a tender sweet bird. Now look at you, all grown up."

(She let out an exhausted breath at the unwanted small talk as she grabbed for her pen to sign the log.)

"That's great Angus...um has my aunt been to see Silas today?"

"Why as a matter of fact she came in about...(Glancing down at the log)...yeah thirty minutes ago."