Mary's Back, Part Five

If you're new to this series you really should catch up on the story of Mary. You won't regret it!


Part 1


Part 2


Part 3


Part 4

I thought I’d seen it all in Mary’s house, but when Jeff brought out that pickle jar filled with chunky, gray ash I thought I was going to die. I felt guilty about laughing so much at Mary’s situation but we had to find humor in what we encountered or we wouldn’t be able to finish the job.

“Jeff, you’ve got to put Chuck back before you drop him! We’ll never be able to get all of him out of the carpet!”

“But Teri, you’ve got to look at this.” He held the jar out for me to see like it was a prized trophy.

“Get him the hell away from me and put him back in the closet!”

After having his fun for the day, and after my continual pleading, he put the jar back in it’s resting place.

That morning we made arrangements with Mary to visit her in the nursing home when we were finished for the day. We had a few things to discuss with her, and Chuck was on the list.

As we drove the few short miles to the nursing home, we tried to come up with ways to sneak in a few questions without being too obvious.

Mary’s nurse met us at the front desk and led us through the wheelchair filled hallways to a common area where patients could escape the confines of their rooms. Mary was waiting for us. She had showered and was wearing clean blue pajamas and a blue and white striped hospital robe. Her ‘scooter the dog” slippers had been replaced with new terrycloth slippers provided by the nursing home.

Jeff and I sat in plastic yellow chairs across from Mary. After asking how she was, and talking about her recovery, we told her of the progress we were making on the house. I needed to know about flooring choices and paint colors for the new kitchen and what she wanted to do with the carpeting.

In the middle of telling me to choose what I thought would work best, she leaned over on one hip and whatever had been building up in her digestive system that week came roaring out. I’m sure Jeff and I had looks of shock on ours faces, Mary never missed a word.

She settled back into the couch and continued her conversation. A few minutes later she hiked her hip up again and, once more, roared forth. Why was I surprised? This was the woman that threw some of her garbage out of the front door. This was the woman that had stuffed dirty underwear in the walls. This was the woman that kept her husband above the toilet.

Trying to maintain his composure, Jeff went a different direction and began asking questions.

“Mary, we found some guns in your bed.”

“Oh, you found those? Better be careful, they’re loaded.”

“Why in the world do you have a .45 under your pillow?”

She looked at him oddly, lifted her leg and let another one rip before answering. The deadly combination of gases were beginning to envelope us. I was fighting back hyena like laughter. I wasn’t sure I could keep my composure. If she did it again I was going to lose it. I put my hand in front of my nose in a lame attempt to guard my nostrils from the noxious fumes. I waited for her answer.

“For protection,” she said flatly.

That made sense, I guess. In theory, some crazed meth addicts could possibly be roaming through the woods of Skyline, see a decrepit old house and decide to take up residence. But first they would be slipping and sliding through an obstacle course of slimy, crap filled kitty litter on the way in. I’m sure that would be enough to deter even the most dedicated of drug addicts.

“Mary,” Jeff went on, “why do you have a loaded pellet gun in your bed?”

“I use that to shoot the rats that run through the room at night.”

Oh Holy Mother of God! My mind flashed back to the dead rat the kids found in the bedroom. If there was one dead rat there had to be more. There was one surprise after another with this woman. Each one more astounding than the last.

I changed the subject and told her I found her baby book, her college annuals, and other things of importance and had packed them away in a box marked “special.” That must have sparked her memory.

“Teri, have you found a plastic bag in the desk drawer?”

I thought back and couldn’t remember a plastic bag in the desk. In fact, I hadn’t been through the desk yet. I didn't even know there was a desk.

“Well when you find it make sure you put it in that box.”

“What does it have in it?”

“There’s some string, rubber bands and twine in it. I’ve had it for years. The vet removed it from Heidi’s intestines and I want to make sure it doesn’t get misplaced.” Heidi was “scooter the dog.”

Who in the hell keeps shit their dog ate in a baggie in a desk drawer?

I could feel Jeff looking at me as I stared blankly at Mary. I was trying to comprehend what she was telling me. He stepped in, deciding it was time to steer us away from the doggy treats and ask the question we both wanted the answer to.

“Mary, while I was cleaning your bathroom I found a jar of ashes above the toilet. Are they Chuck’s?”

Mary was shocked. Her blue eyes sparkled with amusement. She then laughed as she said, “Oh heavens no. Those ashes are from Mt. St. Helens. I put Chuck in sandwich bags.”