Fruit of a Poison Tree

III

And I waterd it in fears,

Night & morning with my tears:

In the early morning, the town looked like a completely different place, quiet and desolate. When I round the corner of my house, I see the dark green suburban sitting in front. The car is Jennie's, the woman who used to babysit me and my sister when we were younger. My mother would be at the hospital by now, starting her shift. As I walked around, I started on a direct route toward the hospital. I do not want to see my mother, but I am drawn there just the same. Once I get there, I walk toward the sliding doors, but I stop. Instead of going inside, I choose to walk around the perimeter of the only hospital in Martinsville. There is a separate door into the chapel where I could see in through the windows. A woman wearing a floral dress kneels at the altar, lighting a candle. I wonder who she is praying for, who in her life is hurt or dying.

Continuing on, I come around to the back of the hospital. I catch a glimpse of a woman sitting on a staircase, her back to me. But I can tell from the flawless bun at the base of her skull, the color of her caramel hair, the look of her body which had held me when I cried, that she is my mother. She turns her head a little, not enough for her to spot me but enough for me to see the outline of her profile. She has a lit cigarette between her fingers and, as she brings it to her lips, I wonder when she started up again.

Turning around, I walk back the way that I came so that I do not have to pass my mother. I approach the sliding doors and pass a young nurse with her head down, watching her own feet. As I step into the hospital, I felt the crisp, cool air of a sterile building. To my left was a gift shop and as I look inside, I see beautiful flowers, brightly colored teddy bears, and boxes of chocolates and candy. Pursing my lips, I continue on, pressing the button on the elevator to take me up a floor.

Few people were up and about inside the hospital at five o'clock in the morning. I leaned against the back of the elevator, running my eyes along the seams of the metal box that took me up to the second floor. With the ding of the opening doors, I walk along perfect, white tiles between perfect, white walls. There is a nurses' station occupied only by a heavily-set woman with dark skin and dark hair, large, brown eyes and pink scrubs. I smile at her when she glances in my direction but she does not smile back.

My fingers touch the smooth walls around me and I run my hands along it. I remember my mother telling me that hospitals are full of germs, that when I went, I should not touch anything I did not have to. So I pressed my palm against the wall and caught hold of a doorjamb.

"Tanya," I hear the nurse at the station call out my mother's name.

Ducking into a room, I see that there is a man sleeping in the bed. I stay completely silent as I look out of the door, watching my mother move around behind the desk.

"Hi Michelle," my mother says.

"How are you?" asks the woman.

Mother sighs. "I am alright, considering. Just a little stressed."

"I've noticed," Michelle nodded a little. "Hence the smoking."

She smiles a little. "Yes, I suppose."

"Here," Michelle hands my mother some charts. "These are the patients for this morning. Mrs. Lambert is back in again."

I see my mother smile with more genuine entertainment than I have seen in a while.

"Well, I suppose I should start with her, then," picking up the chart, my mother walked off away from me.

Stepping out of the room, I continue walking down the hall past room after room of sick people. When I reached the room at the end of the hall, I look in to see Tyler Morrison and I wonder if he is the reason I truly came to the hospital.