In the Dark Alone
"Marilla, Marilla!" Matthew called out as he came back into the house. "Is everything secure?" There was no answer, but he thought he could hear one shutter still banging in the back of the house. She always forgets that one, he thought grumpily as he dragged his sopping raincoat back on and sloshed his way around to the back. A tangled mess of leaves and timber greeted him as he rounded the corner. Thanking his lucky stars, the tree had managed to miss the roof Matthew made his way over to the window. Having secured the shutter, he glanced around and in dismay caught sight of his stricken sister laying under a medium sized limb. "Marilla! Marilla!" he shouted against the rising storm. He shook her by the arm but there was no response.
By rights he should have left her until the paramedics arrived but there was no time. Thunder was rumbling and the world was momentarily lit by bolts of lightning in the building storm. The limb was long and unwieldy but not too heavy and he managed to get it off her quickly enough. Then picking her deadweight off the ground he slung her over his shoulder with some effort and ran through the rain as quickly as possible praying that she would be alright. He got through the door just as a terrific lightning bolt lit up the dark sky, its answering thunder report immediately following. The rain turned to hail at that point, and it felt rather as if the world was ending. Matthew laid Marilla down on the couch and went to fetch some blankets. He removed her wet clothes then wrapped her up snugly in a blanket and turned to the telephone but the dial-tone was dead.
The hailstones were pinging off the house and making a terrific racket. The last thing he wanted to do was drive through the storm and in fact quickly determined that he would have to wait. It wouldn't do any good to kill themselves on the treacherous road. There being nothing further he could do for Marilla at that stage, Matthew fetched himself a cup of coffee and sat down beside her to wait until the storm passed. She was breathing, that much was sure, but apart from being unconscious there were no other apparent injuries. Matthew prayed to the God he never really believed in to keep her safe.
Matthew passed Rachel driving home in her distinctive lime green Volvo and flashed his lights at her. She stopped on the opposite side of the road and reversed back to him. He explained the situation with Marilla laying on the backseat still wrapped in her blanket. Rachel peered into the car and went deathly pale, "has she stirred?"
"No, she's out cold. I couldn't get through to the ambulance so I'm taking her to hospital. Come with me." Rachel locked her car by the side of the road and climbed in next to Marilla cradling her head in her lap. While Matthew drove she whispered words of love and support as she stroked Marilla's damp hair.
They were met in the emergency bay. The paramedics quickly took charge placing Marilla on a gurney and wheeling her through glass doors. A triage nurse met Matthew and Rachel and asked what had happened. Matthew quickly explained how he had found her covered with branches. He apologised for not ringing an ambulance, but the nurse waved away his concerns. A great many folk had experienced telephone issues. "Come this way," she gestured to Matthew but when Rachel made to follow, she turned to her and asked, "and who are you?"
"I'm, that is to say, I'm her er, friend," finished Rachel lamely.
"Family only in Intensive Care I'm afraid. You'll have to stay out in the waiting room," she gestured to the right before marching after Matthew and the gurney.
Rachel stood in the middle of the doorway in shock unable to make any sense of what had just happened. She was more than Marilla's friend, but how to make them understand? She watched as Marilla's gurney trundled away and around a corner. She stood there so long, practically catatonic, that the paramedics got banked up behind her and loudly told her to move even pushing her roughly out of the way. Eventually an orderly came and led her over to the chairs and pushed her down.
Matthew sat in an uncomfortable chair watching Marilla hooked up to all sorts of machines aware that she had probably sat in a similar room when he had suffered his heart attack. This time it was his vigil. "Come now Mar," he said to her. "Can't have you disappearing on me. We have so much life left to live." A nurse entered the room took her vitals again and nodded to Matthew before leaving. All around them the hospital was buzzing, but in their room all that could be heard was the hum of the machines and Marilla's ever so slow breathing. Outside the sun had burst through the clouds and the world looked fresh and new after the storm. Matthew turned at the sound of footsteps and was pleased to find Lucy. They embraced before Lucy placed a small kiss on Marilla's forehead and she explained that she was allowed in on the basis of being Marilla's niece. "I feel just awful for Mum though," she said. "I mean she's the one who should be here, not me. But they don't see it that way."
"I'll go and explain," replied Matthew. "They have to let her in." But he returned some minutes later; shaking his head defeated. "No, they say they can't make an exception. Friends just weary the patients. She can visit when Marilla graduates to the general ward."
Matthew drew up another chair and sat down opposite Lucy. For a while they sat in silence looking at Marilla then Lucy smiled momentarily. "Mm?" Matthew asked.
"It's silly. I should be in the moment," she replied.
"No, tell me."
"I was just thinking of the sight of you falling off that horse."
True to their word Matthew and Lucy had vacationed together recently. Rather than the heady sights of the Bahamas as Rachel had suggested, instead they went horse riding on Vancouver Island, first marvelling over the heights of the Canadian Rockies and then at the incredible wilderness so different to PEI. Initially they had been shy with each other but as the days passed, they settled into an easy familiarity; that and some shared memories had helped forge a sound relationship. Matthew had nearly fallen off his horse their first day and Lucy riding behind had been worried, but he had managed to right himself in time so that it made for no more than a humorous anecdote.
Matthew smiled at her, "did you enjoy it?"
"The vacation? Yes, it was wonderful. Did you?"
"More than I can say."
They settled down into a companionable silence then, comforting each other by their presence alone until at last Lucy stirred, "I had better go see Mum. She'll be fretting."
"Tell her I'm sorry," Matthew said as Lucy left the room.
Lucy met Anne coming the other way down the corridor, her red hair impossible to miss. They greeted each other and Lucy pointed out the room to Anne and left her to it. Rachel was pacing in the waiting room. "Is there any news?" she asked breathlessly.
Lucy shook her head, "no. She's still unconscious. It might be a while they said. Can I get you anything? Have you eaten?"
"No, no, can't eat. I'm too wound up." Rachel sat down momentarily before getting to her feet to pace again. Wringing her hands, she walked up and down the waiting room saying over and over to Lucy, "I'm sure she'll be fine don't you think? She'll be fine, won't she?" When she staggered slightly, Lucy rushed to her side and told her firmly that she would take her home. "It might be hours, days even. You have to sleep Mum. There's nothing you can do out here and Matthew will ring with any news."
Anne joined Matthew in the clinical room. She rushed over to examine Marilla closely while Matthew looked on, "is she? Is she?"
"She's unconscious," Matthew explained. "We won't know anything until she wakes."
"Oh, Matthew," Anne breathed. "I was so worried. Sorry I couldn't get here earlier. The roads..."
"I know, lots of trees down. I found her in a tree, did I say? Looked like she was hit."
"You did. Gilbert says it could mean anything. She might be just fine. This might just be her body's way of recovering. He was working in the clinic, but he'll be by as soon as he can."
"Of course, must be busy for him right now, lots of injured folks, like..." he nodded towards Marilla.
"I think so. He only had time for a quick conversation before he was called away." Anne sat down in the chair Lucy had recently vacated. She would sit there until she fell asleep. "Do you need a break?" she asked Matthew after a while.
"Might go stretch my legs," he said yawning. It's been a long day. You okay?"
"Yes, yes of course, I'll sit with her. Go," she shooed him out of the room.
Anne contemplated Marilla in the barren hospital bed. She may not have been Anne's biological mother but Marilla had always been there for her. Had mothered her through the tricky teen years with an unwavering love. She was the mother of her heart now and Anne prayed she would be alright. She had not told Matthew the whole truth of Gilbert's words to spare him, but Gilbert was worried. "Could be anything, Anne-girl," he had said quickly. "Brain damage or coma, there's no way of knowing, but I'd be worried if I were her doctor. I'd want her to wake up soon."
Matthew brought her some snacks and a cool cup of weak coffee from a machine in the waiting room. Anne sipped it appreciatively before lapsing into her own thoughts.
Marilla stirred as she heard a multitude of footsteps approaching, their unfamiliar shoes making a racket along the linoleum floor. The familiar hands of the nurse plumped up her pillows and set her back against them, informing her in her soft Scottish brogue that since she had awoken the doctor would be including her on his ward rounds.
"Mrs Cuthbert," said the doctor in his stertorous voice shortly after. "Do you mind if we examine you?"
Marilla nodded towards his voice.
"Right then," the doctor continued to his murmuring students. "Patient was felled by a tree in the recent storm. Pupils are not reactive, but there seems to be little other damage, ideas?"
The students came up with a few suggestions which he rejected out of hand eventually declaring that he believed her optic nerves had been severed and as a result she would be totally and permanently blind. This was news to Marilla who wasn't sure he was even talking about her. "Excuse me," she interrupted. "Are you talking about me?"
"What?" the doctor said abruptly, "yes, we are examining you, Miss Cuthbert. Er, hasn't anyone informed you about your prognosis yet?"
Marilla shook her head slowly in disbelief.
The doctor glanced at his notes, "My apologies Miss Cuthbert." He turned and she barely took any notice of the sound of the doctor murmuring to the nurse and then he and his students walking away down the corridor to ruin someone else's life.
"He's the suppository of all wisdom, that one," the nurse said looking at the disappearing back of the doctor and his various sycophants. Turning to Marilla and straightening her blankets she added, "now, now hen, it's not the end of the world. They'll send you to rehab and you'll learn how to navigate this new world of yours. Plenty of blind people succeed. I admit though, he could have broken the news in a gentler manner. Men!" she finished huffing. "They're quite stupid sometimes." She handed Marilla a tissue and rubbed her shoulders. "We'll be moving you out into the general ward shortly I expect, you can receive more visitors, that'll be nice won't it." Marilla missed the touch of her capable hands when she left and was left alone as the devastating news began to sink in.
Like anyone Marilla had played with the notion of blindness, had closed her eyes and navigated her house for perhaps a minute or more. Turned out this was not the same. The safety net that once you opened your eyes all would be revealed no longer applied. This unrelenting nothingness was her new reality. The last thing she saw, the mundane sight of the closed window shutter looped over and over in her mind's eye, it was the last memory at night and the first in the morning never to be replaced; it made her a bit dizzy
There were nights Marilla dreamed in such vivid colourful detail that when she woke, she was confused forgetting for a fraction of a second that her sight was gone. For the minutes that followed she felt the grief all over, the loss of things she'd never even considered missing. She never saw her own aging, forever in her fifties in her mind's eye, though her fingers would inform her of her wrinkles in due course.
Rachel was there to meet her in the ward when her bed was wheeled in, she felt rather than heard her initially as familiar hands caressed and hugged her, "Marilla, I've missed you my dear."
"You couldn't visit before?" Marilla asked almost petulantly. "Lucy was there, but you were not."
"I couldn't. I'm not related you see. They regard me as a friend, no more. They told Matthew friends exhaust their patients and there were no exceptions. You'll never know how much I regretted it, Marilla dear, but I'm here now and I won't leave your side."
"I'm blind, Rachel. He," Marilla stuttered. "That is to say the doctor said the tree severed my optic nerve. I'll be blind forever."
Rachel nodded then realising Marilla wouldn't pick up on non-verbal communication ever again, said gently, "I know dear. I know. We'll just have to adjust together. We'll face it together, yes? Matthew says you'll be sent to the rehab centre after this and they'll teach us all how to live. Even he and I will be getting some advice on how to help you." She drew away but Marilla cried out for her touch.
"Don't go, stay. I need you," she waved her arms around. "I feel better when you touch me. I feel lost, incohesive. Somewhat transparent when no one is with me. Like I might disappear."
Rachel was helping Marilla with her lunch, gently explaining what her options were and feeding her a spoonful at a time. Marilla reached out suddenly and managed to knock over her water. Barely any liquid escaped her no-spill mug before Rachel placed it back on the table. "Want a drink?"
"I'm dying for something stronger," Marilla said.
"Not while you're on those meds," the deep voice of her doctor startled them both. He talked to Marilla briefly telling her that she would soon be transferred to a rehabilitation hospital before walking away.
Rachel picked up the spoon again momentarily letting go of Marilla's hand. Marilla clutched back at her and held on fast. "Now Marilla you have to let go of me I need two hands to feed you," Rachel complained. "Matthew, can you give us a hand here?"
Matthew took hold of Marilla's hand and held it gently as she clung to him for dear life.
"Excuse me, I'll be back in a moment," Rachel explained leaving Matthew to help Marilla.
Rachel found the doctor out in the hallway, "er doctor, I am Marilla Cuthbert's er friend you know. I'm worried about her. She seems incredibly anxious. I can't leave her alone for a moment."
"Friend?"
"Yes, er that is we live together."
"I cannot discuss her case with you. It is a family matter."
Heartbroken Rachel went to swap places with Matthew who asked the doctor about Marilla. Rachel could hear the two men walk down the corridor. Eventually Matthew returned and told her they had agree to try some anti-anxiety meds.
"I don't need more drugs," Marilla's voice rose in volume and pitch. "Do they think I'm headed for the loony bin. It's not easy for me here."
"Shh sh, we won't do anything to hurt you."
"You want to drug me so I won't mind when you desert me and go off to live your life. Are you just going to dump me?"
"Marilla, nothing of the sort dear. but I need a break. We can't have someone with you all the time. I need a shower. I just need to know you won't wake up in a panic if I do so."
Marilla's heart was racing but she settled down when she heard Rachel's words. She had been by her side for days now. "It's just I feel like I disappear too, like the world around me has. I just need your touch," she sobbed.
"I know, I know."
"The doctor said the drugs might help with that," Matthew interjected. "Make you feel less worried about it all."
Gently the two of them coaxed Marilla into taking the pills and watched as she settled back on her pillows and after a while close her eyes. For the first time in what felt like ages Rachel was able to drive home, have a good hot shower and stretch out in her own bed - bliss. She was so exhausted she barely noticed how cold it was sleeping alone, but it was a strange thing to wake up hours later and find the other side of the bed empty. She and Marilla had been sharing their sleeping arrangements for so long.
Marilla was still asleep when a freshly showered Rachel re-entered her room the next morning and she continued to sleep all day. Rachel had wanted a break, but this was getting ridiculous. She tried to rouse Marilla but all she got was a groggy hello before Marilla sunk back into slumber again. Once again, she needed Matthew to intervene before the medical staff would react. The doctor agreed to adjust the prescription and a less anxious but more alert Marilla returned to them after a few hours.
