The Falling Leaves Home Part 4 (conclusion)

The Falling Leaves Home

Part 4

Harry Buschman

Now I can look back at the last twenty four hours. They started with the loss of Seymour and ended half-way up the stairs to my room on the second floor. That's as far as I got. I have a blurred impression of O'Casey, (strong as an ox she was) with her hands under my armpits pulling me up the rest of the way. I'm not sure about the rest of it. I was in my room––Outerbridge was there, so was Sweetwood. They seemed very far away, so far I could barely hear them speak. I can't remember when I've been so tired. How young they look, Outerbridge reminds me of Hester's obstetrician whom I never met until after Herbie was born and Sweetwood looks like a choirboy. I turn my head a bit to look for O'Casey but she is not there.

"Can someone bring me a glass?" .... my words come slowly, but in a voice I seem to remember from long ago.

"It's hard to understand you, are you thirsty Charlie?"

"No, no .... a glass I can look in .... a looking glass."

I don't know why I asked for a looking glass, except I felt like having one last look. I don't know what I expected to see except I knew it wouldn't be the same. Outerbridge brought me my shaving mirror and held it in front of me.

"No, no!" I said, "Go away, I want to do it myself."

"You can't hold it, Charlie, I'll hold it for you." Outerbridge turned to Sweetwood and mumbled something about 'him slipping away'.

I shut my eyes before looking in the mirror and took a couple of deep breaths. I opened them slowly. The light wasn't good, but there was no mistaking a full head of dark hair, a lean jaw and piercing eyes. It was me all right, the me I used to be, not the old man I turned out to be.

"So that's the way it goes," I thought. You go back. Just before it's over you go back. It must have happened to Heidi too. Claudine really was Heidi! I tried to push myself up into a sitting position.

"Charlie! What are you doing!" Outerbridge put the mirror back and pushed me down again. I tried to say her name. Over and over again I slowly and carefully mouthed each syllable.

"HEI-DI-HOLL-AN-DER .... get her! Please get her!"

"Can you understand him, Sweetwood?" Outerbridge shook his head.

"He's saying something about a Hi-di-ho something .... I couldn't get the rest, but he said 'she'. Is there anyone here by that name?"

"I think he's imagining things, Doctor. We have no one here by that name."

They don't believe me. It's just as well, I couldn't face her again, not here .... not in this place. There will be plenty of time for that later.

The end