THIS IS A ROUGH FIRST DRAFT. Written as raw blog posts in a stretch of both my imagination and writing practice. There are errors, that is what a rough first draft is. A rough isn’t perfect, grammatically or structurally. Those are the things that get worked out in the edits and rewrites. Will the final draft look anything like this? Have to wait and see. For now, enjoy.
Being called in this late at night was not a problem. She didn’t mind going in to work last-minute. They may have wanted to think that one over before hiring her. She didn’t change, just grabbed her keys and left. Keeping everything needed in the trunk, was easier that way.
When she arrived on that blue moon, there was a black cat in the parking lot. She noticed it as she pulled in. Parking the farthest from the building, in the darkest spot, she was not afraid. The cat didn’t notice her, not even when the engine shut off.
The trunk popped from inside, the driver’s door opened. She glanced over. The cat sleek and black, didn’t notice. Heels hit the pavement, click, click. The cat noticed. She stopped and watched in mid movement, while the cat’s ears perked up, and the hair along its back began to rise in slow motion. The formerly seated cat stood up, then crouched ready to spring. She walked around to the back, hidden by the trunk lid. A smile crept across her face, ‘The cat won’t move until it knows where I am going to walk,’ She thought.
She took her time removing the gear. Making sure she had everything she would need. Putting her hand on the edge of the lid above her head, the glossy painted nails and jewels catching the light as she drummed them on the metal . . . making time. Then suddenly the lid slammed down. The cat hadn’t moved.
‘We stared at each other. The cat and I. I looked towards the employee entrance, and debated. Should I go out of my way to walk into the cat’s path, or should I walk straight ahead to work? I checked my watch. It was a couple of minutes to midnight. Straight.’ She would later recall.
‘I chose at the last second to walk farther around my parking spot, as if to head toward the cat. It took a few steps back. Then sat. Brave. I walked straight to my destination, until I was parallel with the cat on my right. I stopped. Turned my head. The cat stood back up. I bent at the waist, leaning towards the minion, and hissed. The cat sprang and ran away never looking back. I know, I watched.‘ She would continue to report about that night.
Laughter echoed in the night air off the building and mostly vacant lot.
She checked her watch. Clocking in right on time.
As she nears the building a shiny black hearse pulled up, stopping in a “No Parking” zone by the entrance like it owned it. It does she thought, realizing that was the only vehicle she has ever seen parked there. Approaching the building, she heard the click of the driver door, saw it swing open revealing the driver. It made her smile. The man unfolded his tall frame and stood straight.
“Hello Sam!” came the rolling thundered greeting and returned smile. ” Ready to go to work?”
“Ready as always.”
The man walked to the back and opened the door, walking it with his long strides to stand fully open. Sam stepped in slinging the bag straps over her shoulder and pulled the gurney out, dropping the legs to the ground. The man waited until she had the gurney out of the way of the door, then walked forward and shut the door securely. An action he has now completed for 17 years. He clicks the hearse lock with the key fob, Sam places the bag on the gurney. They glide the gurney up the ramp and through the twist and turn maze of halls. The two move as if apart of the wheeled bed, near silent, to stop smoothly at the nurses station.
It hadn’t taken Sam long to fit in, awkward though it had been at first. She had now worked or assisted in almost all jobs at the home. The greatest compliment is for no one to notice them, not realizing they are there doing their job. Quiet, smooth, it could be considered an elegant dance. As TJ had told her on the first shift she worked, this job was a privilege. They were taking care of someone’s loved one, loss is heard enough on the soul, we don’t want to wear on the raw nerves of the loved ones left behind. TJ had a way of shortening his stride and bending to accommodate his coworkers to make the movements seem so smooth and crisp. She couldn’t remember when she went from feeling awkward with the movements and when it had become rote and polished. It had been a long time since Sam’s thoughts were conscious about this job. She wondered why tonight. A question that would persist.
TJ stepped up to the counter at the nurse’s station, a nurse sat across from the counter with her back to them. She moved little scraps of paper around transferring the scribbles on them to the computer. She appeared to be talking to herself.
“Excuse me?” TJ’s deep voice softened to a loud whisper, the nurse visibly jumped. A second later around the corner behind the nurse came a male in scrubs.
“Hey, TJ. Your rider is in room 130. Hang on a minute and I’ll go down with you. I am not sure the patient is ready to go yet.”
Sam and TJ glanced at each other quick and with no sign of reaction. It wasn’t unusual to wait for the nurses to complete the release details, especially when they were busy. It was odd, however, for this nurse. He was the supervisor here and was known for his diligence and detail.
Working on the initial opening scene. Rewriting and tweaking.
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