Charlotte

I heard a story from Charlotte, who was the sort of friend I had in my childhood. My friendships then seemed both intimate and uncertain. I never knew why people told me things or what they meant me to believe.
I had gone to the hospital that day with chocolates and flowers. Charlotte lifted her head with its clipped and feathery blonde hair, toward the roses she said, “Huh! They have no smell!, not to me anyway. But they’re beautiful”.
“You must eat the chocolates yourself. Everything tastes like tar to me. I don’t know how I know what tar tastes like, but that’s what I think.”
She was feverish and delirious. Her hand, when I held it, was hot and puffy. Her hair had all been cut off, and this made her look as if she’d actually lost flesh around her face and neck. The part of her under the hospital covers seemed as extensive and lumpy as ever.
“But you mustn’t think I am ungrateful.” She went on, “I appreciate the gifts. Sit down. Bring that chair from over there- she doesn’t need it”
There were two other women in the room. One was just a thatch of yellow grey hair on the pillow and the other was tied into a chair, wriggling and grunting.
“This is a terrible place.” Charlotte said. “But we must just try to our best to put up with it. I’m so glad to see you. That one over there yells all night long. “She said, nodding toward the window bed. “Thank God she’s asleep now. I don’t get a wink of sleep, but I've been putting the time to very good use. What do you think I’ve been doing? I’ve been making up a story for a movie! I have it all in my head and I want you to hear it. You will be able to judge if it will make a good movie. I think it will. I’d like Jennifer Lopez to act in it. I don’t know, though. She doesn’t seem to have the same spirit anymore. She married that mogul..”
“Listen.” Charlotte said before she began her story. I sat and listened. Charlotte would lean forward, even rock a little on her hard bed, stressing some point for me. Her puffy hands flew up and down, her blue eyes widened commandingly, and then from time to time she sank back onto the pillows, and she shut her eyes to get the story in focus again. Ah, yes, she said. Yes, yes. And she continued.
“I know how it goes on,” she said at last, “But that’s enough for now. You’ll have to come back for more. Tomorrow. Will you come back? “
I said, “Yes, tomorrow.” And she appeared to have fallen asleep without hearing me.