Just A Song Before I Go

Just A Song Before I Go

By Timothy Bryant

Dedicated to my wife, Lisa,

and all the people who helped me along the way.

Special thanks to:

Mike Porcaro

Lucinda Coulter

Christina Jesson Schave

© 2010, Timothy Bryant

Any and all similarities and or events of persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

1

Only after the young girl sat down on her third Chicago Transit Authority bus did she begin to realize the three-days-a-week, three-month-long sentence she had been given. In fact, she didn’t really think she had done anything wrong since others around her found it so entertaining at the time. Too bad the judge didn’t have the same sense of humor.

This is all but a bunch o’ shit. I have a baby at da house and too much stuff goin’ on to mess wit shit like this! she says quietly after getting situated.

Makia Brown is but a child herself, if you classify 18-year-old mothers as children. She and her 3-year-old son, Matthew, live with her mother in a housing project within the Englewood section of Chicago. Matthew’s father, Desmond James – who goes by Young D –a wanna-be professional rapper, lives in the same complex and still visits them from time to time. In fact, you could say the reason Makia was facing this dilemma was partially due to Desmond and the crowd he’d been known to hang with.

They didn’t see any harm in tagging the front of the Star of David Nursing Home a few blocks away. And though the tagging didn’t really seem to be what irked the judge, it was the added insults, anti-Semitic remarks and pornographic images that sent the honorable one over the edge.

Since all involved were brought before the court before Makia, some received more severe sentences than she and Desmond. He was sentenced to paint the building and do grounds work at the nursing home, while Makia was given a much more involved sentence.

During Makia’s sentencing, she made the mistake of talking back to the judge - using racial slurs and calling her derogatory names. As an older woman, steadfast in traditional values, the judge felt it best to help teach Makia a lesson.

Miss Brown, after finding you so unremorseful and merciless in your actions…as well as the racial hate that flowed from your lips while before this court, not to mention your obvious disregard for the elderly, I’m sentencing you to a three-month probationary period - working three times a week - as a temporary aid caregiver in a nursing home. The nursing home you will be working at will be the St. Vincent’s Nursing Home in Lakeview.

Lakeview, your honor? spoke up Makia’s court-appointed attorney. My client can’t afford to be traveling on both the Red Line as well as all the buses three times a week, not to mention the keeping of her son during this time.

Mr. Frist, I am well aware of Miss Brown’s financial constraints as well as her parental responsibilities. The court will provide a stipend to cover both the transportation as well as meals during this period. As for the well-being of her son, the court has already discussed this matter with Miss Brown’s mother, who has reluctantly agreed with the sentence, the judge stated.

Miss Brown, I suggest you take advantage of this experience to its fullest and open your eyes to a larger world around you. Maybe by spending time with a different group of folks you will appreciate them for who they are and maybe polish-up some of those social skills.

Social skills… What in the hell was she talkin’ bout? I can be a fuckin’ saint, said Makia, while smoothing out the material of her court-appointed volunteer uniform. What the hell are you lookin’ at you old, uppity bag? she snapped at one of the elderly ladies sitting close enough to have heard what she said. Boo!

Makia reached into a side pocket of her coat and pulled out an iPod. She untangle the ear pieces and placed the ends into each ear, turned on the device, sat back and looked out the bus’ side window. She became lost in watching the steam bellowing from the various rooftops, as well as the assortment of passing cars and trucks.

The scenery changes as the hectic coldness of the city and its traffic are replaced with the warmth of well-kept yards and homes. Makia is torn between enjoying the experience and despising the lifestyle of those in that particular area. She glances around to make sure no one’s noticed her interest, and after realizing that she is safe with her thoughts, she happily goes back to watching the passing locations with curious amazement.

It was only a few minutes later when the salt-and-slush covered bus finally turned onto a long, tree-lined drive. Her face pressed tightly to the window, she peered to see what the future held for her these next three months – every Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday from 1 to 6 p.m. – at St. Vincent’s Nursing Home.

Oh, this is gonna be fun, sighs the girl while reviewing the greystone, immaculate white-trimmed exterior of the four-story building. A recent March snowfall still covered the slate roof, as well as most of the grounds except the cleared walkways and roads.

As the bus slowed to a stop, the screeching of brakes and the opening of its side door follow the crackling sound of thawing ice and slush.

Makia hesitates for a moment before getting up from her seat, questioning what it was she had gotten herself into, as well as what it was she did to get her into this mess in the first place. She moves toward the door, glances at the driver and smirks a bit, then starts down the steps of the bus. Before stepping off the bottom step, she straightens her uniform and takes a deep breath, followed by a moan.

Ya gonna get off, kid? asked the bus driver.

Yeah, yeah…. I’m goin’…. Shit!

With the last remark, Makia makes the final step off the bus, narrowly missing a puddle of melted snow. As the bus drives away, she stands quietly in front of the intimidating site.

Okay girl…ain’t nothin’ better than you. Ain’t gonna take any shit from no one! Not at all! Hell, it’s only for a few months, anyways! Just a bunch of old white folks that had way too much money in their lives… Shit!

She gathers herself and walks up the sidewalk to the snow-cleared, stone steps. She straightens her uniform one last time and pins a simple required white hat to her black hair. She sighs once more and enters the foyer of the nursing home.

I’m sorry, may we help you? asks one of two college-aged girls working an information desk.

Uh, yea… I’m supposed to start today. Somewhere in this place!

Really? snickers one. You’re supposed to work here? The other then whispers something to her, making her look back to Makia. Oh wait… we know who you are.

Yeah, we’ve been lookin’ forward to meeting you. We’ve never met a convict before! exclaims the other.

Whatever…where?

Third floor… Ms. Hunnington, replies one. It da Green Mile… I tells ya. Da Green Mile! cracks the other.

Funny, ladies. But if anyone is a criminal around here, it’s got to be the two of youse, Makia smarts back. One with a charge against the fashion world; the other, a charge of way too much stupidity.

Well, I’ve never…! Did you hear what she said, Ellie? I’ve just never!

As Makia turned toward the elevator, one of the girls ominously said, Well, Miss Convict, your kind don’t belong here and you need to get back to Englewood. We give ya a week to recognize the true way of things. A week!

Without hesitation, Makia casually waited for the elevator doors to open. Wasn’t my fuckin’ idea to be here to start with, she said to herself as she got on the elevator. Not my fuckin’ idea to be here at all!

At the third floor, the doors of the elevator gave way to a scent Makia remembered as a child visiting her ailing grandmother. Though the surroundings were much better than the state-run institution her grandmother was in, the smell was undeniably similar. The mixture of pine-enhanced disinfectant, cleanser and flowers, with an underlying stench of urine still brought back the reality of the conditions she was about to share.

She looked left, but proceeded right when she noticed more activity down the corridor. The hallway leads to a large, community room where Makia finds some of the residents gathered to talk, mingle, play games, read or just spend the time alone.

Yes, may we help you, miss?

Turning to her right, Makia sees a station manned by three nurses.

Ah, yeah. Is there a Ms. Hunnington here?

Before either of the nurses can answer, a fourth nurse comes from between large partitions of files.

Who’s asking, child? asks the nurse.

Ah, yeah…. My name is Makia Brown, she explains. And I’m supposed to start today. Got something here that’s suppose to explain all of it.

She pulls out a thick, opened letter from her bag and attempts to give it to the nurse.

Just hold onto that, Miss Brown, and follow me. I’ll take you to her office, directs the kind, grey-haired woman. So, you start today?

Yeah, I guess.

Well, I’m a bit surprised that they’ve hired anyone since the money’s been pretty tight around here! exclaims the woman. But we’re glad you’re here.

Yeah right… you’re just glad to have another body around this place to do the grunt work, smarted Makia. Anyway, it ain’t a job-job…more like a volunteer situation.

Oh… how sweet! replies the lady. But why in the world would someone like you want to spend time with a bunch of old folks like us?

Like ‘me’? snaps Makia. Whatcha mean by that? What… you don’t think a black someone like me can be in a place like this?

No, no, my dear. Not at all. Nothing like that at all, stammered the nurse. Lord no. It’s just that we don’t get too many young faces in here. Except for the occasional, seasonal, do-gooders.

Huh?

Oh you know…those folks who seem to feel guilty at the end of the year and feel a need to volunteer somewhere. Or sometimes it’s someone who lost someone recently who they didn’t feel they saw enough of while they were alive. We pretty much have seen them all, explains the nurse. Okay, here we are, she concludes before knocking, then opening a door. Ms. Hunnington, a Miss Makia Brown is here to see you.

From behind a large, wooden desk a woman in her 40s peers over the glasses that rest on her nose, and slowly sits up. Thank you, Mary. Come in, Miss Brown.

As Makia enters the office, she turns to the helpful nurse and reluctantly thanks her.

Oh, it was a pleasure, my dear. No problem at all and I hope to see you soon! assures the woman. Tell me though, what made you decide to join us, as a volunteer no less, here at St. Vincent’s? Professional experience? Loss of a loved one? Oh, I know…just having a loving and caring heart!

Makia stops and turns to face the curious nurse.

Actually… court requested probation, three times a week, for the next three months for trashin’ a hell-hole like this one, you nosey bag!

Oh my…!Exclaims the nurse, and then quickly leaves.

Suddenly the woman from behind the desk gets up and rushes to the door. Mary? Mary, she cries out, sticking her head out into the hallway. Did you really have to say that? She’s one of the best people in this place!

Glaring at the young girl, Ms. Hunnington points to a chair sitting in front of her desk and orders her to sit. Met with hesitation from Makia, she sternly repeats, Sit… NOW!

Reluctantly, the girl goes to the chair and flops down.

Ms. Hunnington looks out the door one last time then comes into the office, shutting the door behind her. Dressed in a dark-colored power suit, she returns to her chair facing Makia. She then motions a few times for Makia to give her the envelope before the girl fully understands that it was the paperwork from the judge she was requesting. She opens the letter and begins to review the information.

So, Miss Brown…I guess I should welcome you to St. Vincent’s, says the woman, glancing over the papers. If it wasn’t for my relationship with Judge Davis…well, let’s just say you wouldn’t be here right now.

Makia stays stoic in the chair, looking down and then around the office un-phased.

Now, Miss Brown, during your, uh, time at St. Vincent’s, there are a few things that we frown upon…one of which is rudeness, continues Ms. Hunnington. Our residents here at St. Vincent’s are treated with well-deserved respect and kindness at all times. I expect you to show up without any chip on your shoulder or ghetto attitude.

Say what…? interrupts the girl. I ain’t got no freakin’ attitude!

And there will be no cussing – or ‘near’ cussing of any kind. We have a clean environment here and don’t believe in messing it up with slang of any sort! directs the woman. I expect you to be here on time and to do what you’re told.

Ain’t gonna change no diapers!

And you won’t be asked to. We have orderlies that handle personal hygiene issues with our residents, clarifies the woman. Your job will consist of supporting the nurses with a variety of small tasks that include filing, answering the phones, helping residents get from one place to another, as well as spending time with the residents. You will start at 1 in the afternoon and work till 6 each evening on Tuesdays, Wednesdays and Thursdays, for a total of three months. Questions?

Nah, replies Makia. Look lady, why not just stick me in a room somewhere doing something that will keep me outta anyone’s way? You and I both know why I’m here, and you don’t want me being here as much as I don’t want to be here! Nobody gonna know any different!

Since Maggie… uh, Judge Davis, and I have known each other for a while, I’ve promised her that in order to address your ‘sentence’ properly I wouldn’t let you slide. At the end of each day, you are to give me the amount of hours and the jobs you did so that I can make a record to give back to her, explains Ms. Hunnington.

Whatever, remarks Makia. Well, I don’t understand too much about talking with those uppity folks out there. I ain’t nothin’ like them or even have to act like I like ‘em!

The woman hands the envelope back to Makia and begins to get back to whatever it was she was working on.

Oh, and Miss Brown?

The girl stops and looks back to Ms. Hunnington before exiting the office.

It might be wise while you’re here to remember how lucky you are to be given this opportunity. With any luck, you’ll find maturity goes a long way and that the only barriers you face are those inside yourself and not how you might perceive them to be.

Ah, yeah… right, replies Makia.

After returning to the nurses’ station, Makia is then led by an on-duty nurse, Linda, to an office where she gets a photo nametag and takes care of miscellaneous paperwork. To and from the station, Makia looks curiously about while trying not to give any impression of interest or insecurity.

Well, let’s see it! requests a red-haired, middle-aged nurse, as soon as they get back to the station.

See? See, what?

Oh… I think that’s a good picture, sweetie, smirks Linda, while giving Makia a sarcastic pat on her shoulder.

Gad, remember when I got mine? questions a 20-ish, heavy-set nurse sitting next to the other, while showing to the group the photo ID attached to her scrubs. If I remember right, I had just come off a weekend of partying. Ha…you can still see the tequila swimming in my eyes!

Linda then introduces Makia to the two nurses, and explains each of their duties. The young girl quickly learns that Linda was not only the head nurse on the floor but also what she perceived to be a seasoned professional.

We have twenty rooms on this level, all but two of which are occupied, she continues. The community room, well you see it in front of you, and there’s a craft room on down the hallway there.

Since you’ll be coming in after lunch, there’s no reason to worry about moving some of our residents there. But since you leave after 6, we’ll need for you to help get them set for dinner. Questions?

Ah, nah.

Nah, my dear? returns the nurse.

Ah, no ma’am, smarts Makia.

Much better. The head nurse picks up a large stack of files and gives them to Makia. Now for your first task, Miss Brown…

Oh, here it comes! Are you fuc…frickin’ kiddin’ me?

I want you to take out all of the pink forms, then alphabetize both those and the folders.

Say what? complains the girl.

Linda started to repeat herself but knew it was just the girl playing her.

I know you’ve gone to school, so this shouldn’t be that difficult, Makia. It’s what we around here call ‘work’!

What? remarked the girl. Just because I’m black and from Englewood and all . . .?

My dear, I was just tryin’ to be funny… like you. Chill!

Whatever… Makia retorts.

The nurse looks around to find a quiet place where the young girl can do her work and notices the crafts room is vacant. You can work in the craft room, Makia. That way, you can get used to things slowly without being disturbed by the residents. And Lord, they will disturb you, she says fondly.

What if someone comes in – or say they got one of them groups coming in?

There’s a sheet inside the door to let you know what’s scheduled for the day, assures Linda. Any more questions?

Nah…I mean, no ma’am. I’m good.

Okay then, go at it!

Makia felt this could really be a good thing – working in a room by herself. Not only giving her the opportunity to get lost listening to her iPod, but it would also be a great place to kill time and stay out of everyone’s way. She was, however, surprised by how most of the folks at St. Vincent’s had been friendly, with the exception of the two bimbos she met earlier.

The craft room was a classroom-sized room adjoining the community area. Though to get to it from where she was standing, she would have to walk past many of the residents – which she really wasn’t looking forward to.

Makia didn’t really understand why, but elderly folks have always made her a bit squeamish. Their skin, hair, eyes, any smells she might catch wind of, or even the sound of an approaching walker or wheelchair gave her the willies. Black, brown, white, yellow, no matter what color, Makia just didn’t like them. Hell, she said, once when describing a recent encounter with an elderly white person who happened into her neighborhood, you could see right through their skin! Eww! But for her to make it now – not only to last for the next three months, but also simply to walk from one area to another – she knew what she had to deal with it.

With folders in hand, Makia mapped