Just Sit And Putter
*1995*
…
“‘And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by her side
Of my darling--my darling--my life and bride,
In her sepulchre there by the sea,
In her tomb by the surrounding sea.’”
“That’s beautiful,” I breathed. Annabelle Lee must’ve been quite the ace.”
“Blimey, she was probably stunning,” Penny replied, clutching the piece of paper from which those sacred words were written to her heart. “I mean, I know Percy didn’t write it-- Edgar Allen Poe did-- but the fact that he took the time to write this at all is precious nonetheless.”
“Who? The former or the latter?”
“Both.”
We were quiet for a moment. “I wonder what Poe’s love life was like,” Penny pondered. “If he treated his ladies as wonderfully as the lads do in his poems-- well--- even I would marry him.”
“You’d marry a dead man?” I giggled.
Penny chuckled in response.
“Poe actually married his cousin,” I offered.
Penny looked astounded for a moment, then shrugged her shoulders. “It was a hundred years ago. It was fine then,” she concluded.
“The cousin then died,” I continued, “and Poe never married again.”
“What did she die of?”
“Em… tuberculosis, I think.”
“How awful.”
“Mmhm.”
Then there was an awkward silence, for what exactly does one say after ‘mmhm’? I didn’t blame Penny.
“I think Cheers is on,” I offered.
Instantly, Penny’s eyes lit up, and she grabbed the remote laying on her night table. “Did you know that Shelley Long left the show after a few seasons?”
“It makes sense. She probably wanted to do other things.”
“But the show got awful after she left; there was the whole story line where Sam sank his boat, and this new boss and Rebecca came in, and it just wasn’t as funny anymore.”
“Pitty. I’ll watch the rest of the reruns, anyway.”
We fixed our eyes upon the screen as George Wendt entered the scene. ‘Norm!’ the cast members rang out. ‘Can I draw you a beer, Norm?’ Nicholas Colasanto asked. ‘No, I know what they look like,’ he answered. ‘Just pour me one.’
Penny and I chuckled at the joke along with the laugh track.
“He died ten years ago, you know.” Penny said. “They had to put his death in the show, and they got Woody Harrelson replace him.”
“Who, Wendt? And how could anyone replace the great Ernie Pantusso?”
“No, Colasanto. And Harrelson has done a pretty good job, too. He’s basically the younger version of Coach.”
“It’s crazy how he died, though. Right out of the blue. I bet he was important to a lot of people.”
“I’m sure he was,” Penny answered, nodding. “People die every day. Someone just died as I said that. Someone’s dying right now,” she said, pointing to the screen, “as Carla hassles Cliff.”
“Blimey,” I said in response. I’d never thought about it like that.
We watched for a few more minutes until a commercial came on, and I broke the silence by saying, “Carla’s so strong, for all her meanness. I mean, raising so many children by herself? Wild.”
“She is,” Penny agreed. “She’s proof that women can do anything, even while having children. If that means
“All women?”
“Er… Look at me,” was Penny’s response. I looked from the screen to her sweet face. “Am I not a woman myself? Or, as Lucy Montgomery puts, it, through the words of Anne Cuthbert, “‘I’m going to be my own woman’.” When we get married, Percy knows not to expect dinner on the table every night. I’m not going to be a common housewife. I’m going to work.”
“Where?”
“I’d like to go into nursing, I think. Although it pushes the stereotype forwards, I do quite like babies. I think I’d like to deliver one someday. Give one to a strong woman like Carla.”
“That’s lovely,” I replied. I traced the length of my wires coming out of my port. “I think I want to be an actress.”
“Any particular type?” Penny asked, brushing her uneven hair out of her face.
“Broadway,” I said instantly. “I want to be the next Julie Andrews of the stage. And television would make me look unflattering. Each camera adds ten pounds, you know.”
Penny rolled her eyes. “Please,” she said. “You’re like a twig. Even I, a fellow twig, could snap you in half.”
I giggled at the image.
Suddenly, we both looked to the door as the handle jiggled. Nurse Flitwick tottled in, dragging a new medicine bag behind him.
“New meds!” he chirped to Penny.
“Why?” she asked.
“Your doctor seems to think the ones you’re on aren’t working too well. So, we simply adjusted the dosage.” Flitwick shrugged as he plugged the new back in, and attached the wire to her access port.
“Is she worse?” I blurted out. I couldn’t help myself.
Flitwick glanced at me uncomfortably. “That’s for her doctor to say,” he said unconvincingly.
Penny looked down at her blanket.
“Penny?”
She didn’t reply.;
I was sorry for asking.
…
“Two hundred and fourteen.”
I jolted my head up from where it lay on my pillow. “What?”
“That’s how many dots are on each square on the ceiling.”
I shook my head in disbelief. “You could’ve talked to me to pass the time, you know, instead of doing that.”
“I just felt like it.”
I sank back onto my pillow. “I’m sorry for asking about your condition. It’s not my business.”
“It’s ok. I would’ve done the same.”
I heard Penny breathing quickly. “Are you ok?” I asked.
“I’m going to die,” she whispered, closing her eyes, trying not to cry. “I’m going to die soon. And so are you.”
“No,” I began, trying to sooth her, “You’ll be alright, and so will I. “We’ll be great.”
“No,” she said, tears rolling down her cheeks, regardless of her eyes being squeezed shut. “I’m so sick. This goddamn cancer-- I could’ve been a nurse. I would’ve been.”
“And you still can be,” I said, my throat swelling up. I swung my legs over my bed and slowly walked to hers. I crawled in next to her, making sure our wires didn’t get tangled up. “You’ll become a nurse and wheel me around when we grow up.”
Penny chuckled through her tears. “I’ll only wheel you around when you break a bone doing a dangerous stunt on the broadway stage.”
I smile faintly, picturing the fantasy. “It’ll happen.”
Penny’s smile faded, however. “I have no hope anymore. There’s no purpose for me except to read Percy’s fucking letters. And he doesn’t even write that often anymore. Soon, I’ll have nothing new to read.”
“That’s not true, I’m sure he’s just busy,” I said, putting my arm around Penny. She instantly curled into me, and I kissed her forehead softly. “We’ll live for another year. I promise.”
“But you don’t know.”
“Yes, I do. Even if we’re not physically on this earth, we’ll still live. We’ll always belong.”
Penny sighed and curled onto my chest. My skin heated up and prickled. I was very conscious of Penny’s hot breath against my right breast.
“Imagine,” I said, closing my eyes against Penny’s balding head, “A nurse and an actress. What an unstoppable team we’ll be.”
“I love you,” was Penny’s response. I felt her drifting off to sleep. Her breathing evened out, and
I held her closer. “I love you too,” I replied.
…
That night, I dreamed of nothing but angels, blue scrubs, and stage lights blinding my vision.