Here, There, Everywhere

Grub paused and looked at us nervously. “Your medals?” he whispered back.

“My medals. They’re gone!” Blackjack shouted, lurching forward. Grub leaned back and glanced at me for reassurance, though I wasn’t sure what to say. Blackjack continued, his voice dry and scratchy. “Which one of you took them?” He eyed each of us with a ferocity that made my stomach turn.

Mary took over, grabbing Blackjack’s hand. “I’m sure your medals are right where they always are.”

“Get your hands off me. Someone took them. Which one of you?” A few heads turned in our direction. Blackjack pushed himself up on his wheelchair, trying to stand, but Mary held him down by the shoulders. “Get your hands off me!” he shouted again.

Grub backpedaled and hid behind me.

Mary tried to pacify the old man, but he had worked himself into a rage, red-faced and trembling. A few other nurses rushed over to assist.

Grub grabbed my arm. “Let’s go,” he said, tugging.

I tried to think of how to explain this to him. I squatted down. “I think Blackjack is having one of those bad days we talked about.”

“Who took them?” Blackjack’s voice had become distorted, almost as if he were choking. “Sino ang kumuha nang mga ito?”

Mary calmly spoke to him in Tagalog while the other nurses helped hold him down. His strength, even now, was impressive.

Grub looked as if he wanted to say something, his brown eyes darting back and forth. I noticed the piano music had stopped, and glanced at Rose, who watched the commotion. She looked worried.

Missy Stouffer briskly entered the room, taking full inventory of the situation within seconds.

“Get your hands off me! Who took them?” Blackjack fought at the nurses.

“Who took what?” Missy asked Mary.

“He’s confused. I’ll take him back to his room, Ms. Stouffer. He just needs to rest.”

Missy flashed me and Grub a suspicious glare.

“Who took my medals?” Blackjack repeated, still struggling.

Missy looked from Blackjack to Mary. “It may very well be confusion; nonetheless, it’s my job to take any accusation of stolen property seriously, regardless of the mental state of the person reporting it.”

“I’ve been with him since he woke this morning,” Mary replied. “He hasn’t left my sight. I’m certain the medals are back in his room. They couldn’t possibly be missing.”

“Let’s be sure then. It’ll only take a few minutes to double-check his room.” Missy raised her eyebrows at Mary, then nodded toward the hall.

“Of course, Ms. Stouffer,” said Mary, who left Blackjack with the other nurses and headed to his room.

Grub still stood by my side, clinging to my shorts. The entire room had focused their attention on us by now. My palms sweated in my pockets. Blackjack had stopped shouting and struggling, but breathed heavily in his wheelchair. The remaining two nurses crouched beside him, muttering soft assurances that he was going to be okay.

Lucille Larsen appeared beside me. “What’s the ruckus?”

I leaned in close to her ear. “Blackjack thinks his medals are missing.”

“Missing medals? So what’s the fuss? I haven’t been able to find my wedding ring for weeks and no one seems to care.”

Hearing this, Missy turned and scanned her up and down, as if downloading information. “Your wedding ring is missing, Mrs. Larsen?”

Lucille held out her left hand to show Missy Stouffer: no ring.

“I see,” said Missy.

A voice called out from behind us, something about rare coins missing.

Another man shouted, “I’ve been looking for my gold watch for days!”

Grub tugged at my arm again. “I want to go home,” he said.

“Now’s not a great time. We’ll leave in a little bit,” I told him.

Mary returned, her shoulders hunched up and palms facing upward. “He’s right, I can’t find them. I have no idea—”

Before she could finish, Missy pointed to me and the two nurses. “You, you, and you. Check the memory care unit for Mr. Porter’s medals.” Then she pointed at Candy. “You talk to the other residents, see if there are more reports of missing property.” She pointed at Mary. “You get him calmed down,” she said, nodding to Blackjack, who had, for the most part, calmed down. Grub noticed this as well and left my side to join his friend.

Missy and I, along with the two nurses, walked down the long hall of the memory care unit. She ordered them to perform a full sweep of the rooms and took me to the staff lounge. “I can’t imagine any of our employees would steal from the residents, but I’d be remiss not to cover all possibilities. Check the cabinets, the lockers, everywhere.”

In all the time I’d volunteered at Hilltop, I’d never seen Missy appear anything other than calm and cool. But now she looked rattled and as uncomfortable as I felt to be rooting through other people’s belongings.

“Of course,” I said, then gulped. My tongue felt like sandpaper on my throat. I wasn’t sure why I had been picked to help with the search, but I obliged.

Missy started at one end of the room and I at the other. I opened the cabinets. Nothing out of the ordinary. The closet had everything one might expect. I even checked the refrigerator. Nothing. Finally, I moved on to the employee lockers. Part of me felt invasive; the other part knew I was only following orders.

First locker—empty.

Second locker—a pair of shoes and an umbrella.

Third locker—winner winner, chicken dinner. On the bottom of the locker, underneath a balled-up sweater, lay a pile of old war medals attached to striped ribbons.

“Found ’em,” I said to Missy.

She marched across the room and took the medals from the locker. Then she looked the locker up and down. “I see,” she said. She turned and walked out the door with haste.

As I shut the locker door, my stomach sank as I recognized Rose’s purse.

I ran back to the common room on Missy’s heels.

“Mr. Gunderson just found these in your locker,” said Missy, holding the medals out to Mary.

I looked at Rose, who furrowed her brow at me in confusion. I opened my eyes wide and shrugged my shoulders.

Mary looked shocked. She actually smiled and shook her head. “That’s crazy. How’d they get there?”

“That’s a good question, and one I’d like the answer to,” said Missy.

Mary searched for words. “Ms. Stouffer, you don’t actually think . . . You can’t believe I took them?”

Missy knelt in front of Blackjack and held up the medals. “Mr. Porter, do you recognize these? Is this your missing property?”

Blackjack slowly lifted his head and spotted the medals in Missy’s hands. His face turned maroon and his chest started heaving again. “Who took them?” he rasped. “Ibalik nila yan!”

Missy looked back to Mary.

“Ms. Stouffer, I—I don’t know what to say.” Mary let out an exasperated breath and dropped her hands to her side. “This is crazy. I don’t know how this could have happened.”

Julia Durango & Tyler Terrones's books