“Oh. I’ll shut up all right.”
Agnes stumbled toward home, chafing from the wet between her legs. Maud, Maud, Maud. Nan. My Nan. My paradise lost.
PART FOUR Continuing Revelation
CHAPTER 16 Maud, Philadelphia, November 2001
FRIENDS HOSPITAL, IN NORTH PHILADELPHIA, was founded on the impetus of Thomas Scattergood in 1813 under the name the Asylum for the Relief of Persons Deprived of the Use of Their Reason. The Philadelphia Yearly Meeting of Friends had embarked on the project as an alternative to the punitive treatment of mental illness in other hospitals. The Quakers interpreted such disturbances differently, based on the belief that every person was born with an Inner Light which shone with integrity. In the mentally ill, that light flickered, but the mind might heal itself in an environment of rest, good food, fresh air, and general dedication to health. The Meeting bought a fifty-two-acre farm in the west of the city for $7,000 and set out to create a place where people could get better naturally.
The hospital implemented a series of firsts. In the 1830s, they initiated a form of pet therapy. Patients could visit an enclosure for small animals and pet and feed them. The hospital also built a greenhouse, hired women doctors, offered hydrotherapy, and, more recently, opened a long-term care building and a drug rehab program. The philosophy matched Maud’s own intuitive ideas about how to help Heidi—it made sense to think that her Inner Light had dimmed. Maud spoke to the doctors at both hospitals and learned that a move could be made without much trouble. Moses agreed easily as well. As long as all he had to do was pay the bills, he didn’t really care where his former wife was. In September, Maud took Heidi down and got her settled. Maud felt positive about having her there, though it was more difficult to visit. But she was able to dedicate herself more fully to both Clemmie and to her job, and David gave her a raise and a promise of promotion. She was busy, too much so to examine her degree of happiness, but she got extra satisfaction from her continued correspondence with Agnes Lee. About six weeks after returning from Maine, when her life was relatively calm again, she reread the Agnes When manuscript and appreciated and understood it quite differently. That didn’t change her goal of convincing Agnes to expand and divulge. The current manuscript wouldn’t do what the book should. But she now understood what Agnes had done, and she would keep the version as she kept the tiny old gloves she sought out in thrift stores. Perfect things that didn’t cover enough these days.
Maud had made a day trip to the hospital four times now, taking the train to Thirtieth Street Station and a half-hour cab ride to North Philadelphia. Beyond the first time, when Heidi had been terrified of ending up in a strange place, Maud had never dreaded going there. The stately buildings were fair representations of the high-mindedness within their walls—albeit some of the walls could use an upgrade. On the day before Thanksgiving Maud signed in and made her way up in an elevator and down several corridors to Heidi’s room. She flicked her hair behind her shoulders, took three deep, centering breaths, touched the gold bangle she’d worn every day since Heidi had to take it off to enter the hospital, and focused on bringing her mother hope and love. She opened the door and immediately smelled the scent Heidi gave off—rotten, sour, brackish. Depression. She fought the impulse to step backward. The shades were lowered most of the way. The atmosphere was brown.
“Hi, Ma.” She touched a blanketed foot. The body in the bed didn’t move. “It’s me. I’m here to visit you today and tomorrow, too. Clemmie is with Bubbi and Gramp in Livingston. I’ll be staying in an apartment on Rittenhouse Square. It’s Agnes Lee’s apartment, can you believe it?” She pulled up a chair as close to her mother as she could. “Agnes Lee! We’re friends now.”
Heidi’s face was squashed and lined and stained with drool. Her beauty had vanished behind a cloud. She lay on her left side, her legs pulled up, knees to her chest. Her right hand clutched a knot of blanket, and her left thrust up awkwardly behind her head. The hospital was clean and well cared for, but there was no escaping the smell of urine and bleach. Though the urine might be coming from the bed.
Maud kept up her chatter. She washed Heidi’s face and brushed as much of her hair as she could. There was a moment when it looked as though Heidi were waking up, or coming to, but she didn’t. Maud gave up talking and uncurled her mother’s fingers from the blanket and held her hand. She breathed deeply and focused on an image of Heidi skipping in spite of her limp down Charles Street, turning circles and saying hello to everyone. You are that person, she repeated in her mind over and over. You are Heidi Silver, you live in the Village, everyone loves you. Maud watched for any signs of movement, but though she ached to be the type to fool herself with a twitch or a sigh, she was also intent on knowing the truth. The truth was Heidi showed no response at all.
An orderly entered briskly, his shoes squeaking across the floor. “How are you today, Mrs. Silver?” He put his hand on her bed and gave it a push, enough to be felt. No response. He looked at Maud. “Hi, I’m Tom.”
“I’m Maud, her daughter.”
“I need to change her sheets, but I can come back.”
Maud picked up her bag and stood. “That’s okay. I’m going to go talk to Dr. Straight now. Has she been better than this at all?”
“She’s on new meds. It takes a while to adjust. I talked to her last week.”
“Oh?” Maud’s heartbeat sped up. “What did she say?” She knew about the meds.
“She likes that picture.” He pointed to a photo of their house on Charles Street.
“It’s where we live.” As opposed to here. And not for long, either. Moses had made it clear he and family number two were moving in as of June. Six months left.
“The whole house?”
“Yup. Lucky, I know.”
Though it felt odd to say so with her unresponsive mother stretched out beneath their conversation. Maud leaned over and embraced her. Heidi stirred and moaned. “I love you, Ma.”
“Umm.” Heidi pushed out her chin and arched her back. Maud and Tom exchanged a glance. Was it something? They waited for a moment, but she remained curled up.
“Okay, Ma,” Maud said. “I’m taking off. I’ll be back tomorrow to have Thanksgiving dinner with you.”
She and Tom walked into the hall. “Can someone please wash her hair?”
“I’ll make a note on the chart.”
She walked slowly to Dr. Straight’s office, taking the stairs instead of the elevator. The old hallways echoed, and the soles of her shoes clacked against the floors, a sound she always associated with a crisp sense of purpose, though under these circumstances it was annoyingly loud. She wished she were back in the room with Heidi. She wondered what Clemmie was doing. She felt a sudden shiver at the memory of how tense she’d been that morning passing through the large train stations and seeing soldiers everywhere. So much fear, so much hate. She and Clemmie and Heidi had had to move to a short-term sublet uptown for a few weeks after 9/11. The air in the Village had been thick and unsafe for weeks.
She stepped over the threshold into Dr. Straight’s office. The scraping and scuffing of the polished corridors gave way to thick carpeting. When she was in a hopeful frame of mind, Maud found this faintly amusing, but now a flash of rage swept through her. Why should he have this? And not the patients! Why should health be a privileged state, and illness akin to poverty? Why should he have on a nice suit, and be so clean-shaven? Resentments crowded out her grief over seeing Heidi so listless, and her energy returned.