The Linen Walk

The Linen Walk1

She sat in the hospital waiting room. Waiting. She had been waiting for an hour. People went in, people came out. Different people came out from the ones that went in, always. They came out changed, different. Happier. Sadder.2

Sometimes even with the heavy news of their own death hanging over them, grinning mockingly.3

She hoped this would not be her case. And as she waited, the seconds ticking loudly by, she almost felt her own tension baring down her neck, the tension of all the others. Waiting their own turn. The atmosphere was sickening. The smell of hospital. The smell of death. The presence of death.4

And then, worst of all... the Linen Walk. She called it the Linen Walk. When someone came out of the doctor’s office, they had to endure the Linen Walk. They would have to walk over linen, enduring the piercing eyes of their fellow waiters. And they would all be thinking... are they sick? Are they fine? Are they going to die? But then the next patient’s name is called out and attentions change over. The new victim. Going in, then coming out on the Linen Walk. So on... so on... and so on... people went in, people came out. Different people. Always different.5

“Sarah Murphy,” the loudspeaker warned. It was her turn for the chop. On her way in. The eyes. The death. And then, closing the door. Silence.6

“Afternoon, ma’am. Do take a seat,” the kind doctor said, barely looking up. Sarah sat down in front of him, resting her purse on her lap. The kind doctor picked up her chart and gave it a brief scan. 7

Heart pounding. The news on its way, pursuing a deadly speedway of conflicting currents that could conflict one way or the other; life or death.8

“Hm,” the kind doctor muttered, licking his lips. The news was about to conflict. “Well Ms. Murphy, you did the right thing upon deciding to be checked out. The blood in your coughing could be nothing, or could be something.”9

And? she wanted to say. And!? Nothing or something?10

She smiled.11

“And I’m afraid you have been infected with tuberculosis. There is a possible treatment so-”12

“No,” she interrupted him.13

“Excuse me?”14

“I don’t... I don’t want treatment,” she said, looking away from the kind doctor who was actually looking quite at a loss now.15

“Well why ever not, Ms. Murphy? If you do not begin treatment immediately you will die. There is absolutely no doubt in that. And unfortunately you have waited too long before being analised. You-”16

“No,” she interrupted him. Again. She felt like crying. The feeling she felt was devastating, even more than she even expected. She felt like a stain of black ink. A spot. Something than would very soon be wiped away, never to be thought about or remembered again.17

“Ms. Murphy, I’m sorry but-”18

“Nothing you can say will make me change my mind, kind doctor, I-”19

“You must listen, Ms. Murphy,” he interrupted her. “If you do not receive treatment you will die. Do you know what that means?”20

“Of course I know what that means, don’t judge me as being dumb,” she whispered, wiping tears from her eyes. “I’m not dumb. I just don’t want treatment. I don’t need help.”21

“Don’t be ridiculous, Ms. Murphy, of course you need help. You have a disease that will kill you if you do not treat it!” he yelled.22

“Don’t yell, kind doctor.”23

“You leave me no choice, Ms. Murphy, but to yell,” he said, lying back in his leather chair. What did it matter to him if she died or didn’t? By the time the kind doctor was at home that night he wouldn’t even remember this conversation. When he was making love to his wife, would he remember her? 24

“No,” she replied. “There is no need to yell. Thank you for your help.”25

She got up. The doctor scoffed. It was time for the Linen Walk.26

And so it was. Walking on linen, eyes on each side and back. Was she fine, was she sick? Was she going to die? 27

Probably she was.28

And she drove home, Sarah considered killing herself. Ending it all earlier. She probably wouldn’t suffer so much. All she needed to do was run into something, hard. Or off something. 29

She didn’t. It was a sunny day and the evening sun was setting about the rocky, somehow yellow landscapes of Maine. 30

Basically, Sarah hated life. It had given her a hard time. From a lousy childhood which featured the divorce of her parents, a very nasty accident involving a bus and poor social skills that lead to a poor time at school and mostly just everywhere. Other than that, Sarah was actually blond and cute.31

Puberty and the teen years were more promising; Sarah developed her low self-esteem, making it considerably higher, managed to correct her under-average social “skills” and had a bunch of boyfriends. She went off boys, though, after one of them tried to rape her. Sarah was able to escape unscathed from that encounter but it remained a very uncomfortable memory for her. The guy also set about beating her up a bit before giving up the sex.32

Finally, she got married to a man named Joe Riddle. Unfortunately, he left the night the twins were born and never came back. Nobody ever heard of him again.33

It is safe, although sad, to say that Sarah Murphy has had very few happy moments in her life. She was 37 upon having received the news of her near death. The worst thing was... she was glad to have heard it and was looking forward to leaving the ugly, mean and staring world. On top of that... lonely hearts break easily. And hers was totally shattered.34

Sarah waved at the Mrs. Jones, her neighbor, while parking her car. Time to go into the house.35

Sarah stopped at the front door, listening. She could hear laughing inside, her children playing. She had two 11 year old twin, girls. And a 13 year old boy.36

And would even they be concerned when she told them she was going to die? Would her own children be concerned? Only one way to find out.37

She went inside.38

“I’m back!” Sarah announced, hanging her coat in the hallway.39

The youngsters all came rushing in. “So watcha got, mommy?” and “Are you sick, mommy?”40

The babysitter walked in, a kind lady, Lisa Camber. She smiled expectantly. It was a smile that was ready to fade away if she gave them bad news.41

But Sarah smiled back,”Don’t think you’re getting rid of your mother that easily!” And all was fine again until it wasn’t.42

Sarah’s next days were surprisingly interesting. She took her time while having breakfast, while shopping... it made life look more worthwhile, slower. The time passed slowly, allowing her to savour every last moment of it. Hopefully, nothing would ruin Sarah’s final run on life. 43

She helped her children with their homework. She played games with them and had fun. She invited select friends over for dinner and cooked excellent meals.44

But the blood. The blood reminded her it was all temporary. Soon, she would die. And Sarah could feel it inside her, boiling hard and fast. When she eventually did die, it would be a happy death. She would be remembered as being happy in her last days.45

It all changed, though, when Sarah opened a letter from her high-school English teacher, Mr. Rents. She was having breakfast at the table with Grady, her son. The twins were playing upstairs.46

“What is it, mom?” he asked, suspicious. Her face had drooped after reading the letter.47

“Um... well, it’s from my high-school teacher. It’s a list he had us compile of the 10 things we most wanted to do in our life. And now, he’s sent it back...” Sarah explained, still looking at the list.48

“And? What did you write?” he was smiling playfully now. She wasn’t. She was feeling increasingly cheated.49

“Here, I wrote I want to 1. go to India. I didn’t go. 2. go to France, where I didn’t go either. 3. be a doctor.” They both laughed, considering Sarah worked at the local groceries store. “4. have the new Splash Pool Barbie.” Which led to even more laughter. “5. be rich. As you can tell, Grady, I can tick this one as being done.” Grady snorted. She was trying to be humorous, but it was impossible. She wanted to scream. She had been in the wrong the whole time. “6. be together with my parents again...” They both sat in silence now. “7. be cool.” Sarah coughed. The list was spattered with thin drops of blood, but Grady thankfully didn’t notice. “8. be immortal.”50

“High ambitions, mom...” Grady noticed.51

“Ayuh. 9. be famous. This is insane, how could I expect... well, 10. be...” she trailed off.52

“Be...?”53

“Never mind,” Sarah said, getting up. She tipped the list into the garbage can.54

“Hey, mom! Come on, that’s classic, it’s a memory,” Grady complained, trying to fish it out of the garbage. Sarah didn’t let him.55

“No, it’s rubbish and deserves to be with rubbish. I was a very troubled girl, Grady. Nothing like I am now.”56

“What was the last topic!? Tell me, mom, please, I’m so curious,” Grady begged, looking Sarah in the eye.57

And she did. “Be dead,” she muttered. Grady knew she wasn’t joking. 58

Sarah knocked open the doctor’s door. “Jesus Christ, miss, you scared the bejesus out of me, what-”59

“I want treatment. I don’t want to die. I’ve reconsidered,” Sarah said, without closing the door. The waiting people in the waiting room were pretending not to pay any attention to the scene she had started. The secretary was on her way to save the day. She grabbed Sarah’s arms and started to pull her away.60

“No, Wendy, leave her,” the doctor said, leaning forward. “I remember you. The tuberculosis lady that refused treatment.”61

“Yes. But now I want it. Am I still on time?”62

“What made you reconsider?” the doctor asked, stalling painfully. 63

“I... I want to do more stuff.” 64

“Oh? Well... I’m sorry, but no treatment now could save you from death. If you had-”65

But Sarah was out the door and on the Linen Walk.66

“Hi, mom,” Grady said as Sarah walked into the house. He was watching television. The twins were playing with Lego on the floor.67

“Hello. Please don’t disturb me, I’m going to kill myself in my bedroom,” Sarah answered, mounting the stairs.68

At first... a joke? The twins laughed. But Grady knew better. Item nr. 10 told him she was serious. He rushed up the stairs, screaming, tearing into her room. But it was too late. Sarah was sleeping on her bed in a puddle of drawing blood. 69

Grady kicked something. He hauled at her dresser. He hit the wall. He broke a mirror. He ripped her clothes to shreds and then collapsed on top of her, hugging her and staining his own skin with the blood of his mother.70

“Mom... why? You didn’t deserve this,” amongst tears and sobs. “Why did you have such a bad life? Why do some people have bad lives...!”71

But Sarah didn’t answer.72

“It wasn’t your fault, mom. It was just rotten luck,” he whispered. “Everyone has bad luck sometimes.”73

And Sarah seemed to blink.74

“I hope India is fun, I hope France is beautiful. I hope you’re rich and famous and immortal,” Grady slurped, kissing his mom’s face and hands and arms. He threw the knife she had used onto the floor. “And have fun with that Splash Pool Barbie,” he finished.75

Had she done the right thing? Yes, she did what she wanted and what few people are brave enough to do.76

Sarah Murphy had walked the Linen Walk for the last time. 77