Suzette Elgin - Native Tongue

“But surely they haven’t suddenly become so much sicker than they were?” Thomas asked.

“Oh, no… not at all. They are in fact remarkably healthy, all things considered. But they are also remarkably long-lived, these women of your Household. And as more and more of them become extremely aged, sir, they require constant attention to their personal needs. Almost every one of them, Mr. Chornyak, must now be helped even for such simple matters as bathing and eating.”

And I always have a dozen or more willing pairs of hands ready to help me with those tasks. Even the four-year-olds are contented to sit with a bowl of rice and spoon it one tiny morsel at a time into the mouth of a beloved aunt. And I have seen two seven-year-old girls bathe a frail lady of ninety as competently and gently as any adult woman could have done, chattering the whole time about their verbs and their nouns…

She thought of all this, waiting, but she said none of it. She had learned enough to know that if Chornyak for one moment suspected that the women of Barren House had any leisure to spend tending others he would find a means for them to put it to gainful work instead; even for the four-year-olds, he would have had strong opinions about the “waste” of their time.

“Well, Mrs. Landry,” said Thomas slowly, “I do see your point. I’m afraid we’ve been rather inconsiderate, as a matter of fact. When I hired you, I thought there was very little for you to do — but I haven’t paid any attention to the facts of the matter, and I should have realized that the situation was a progressive one. I apologize, of course, but you should have spoken to me sooner — it appears that our old ladies are determined to live forever, doesn’t it?”

Michaela had been braced for strong protests, intricate arguments, and a great deal of linguistic manipulation along the lines of doing one’s duty and keeping one’s word. But Thomas didn’t behave as she had anticipated.

“Fine,” he said, nodding agreement and making a quick entry to his wrist computer. “Fine. You may consider yourself released from your contract as of the end of this month, my dear.”

Taken aback, but grateful that it had been so simple, Michaela thanked him.

“Not at all,” Thomas said. “I regret that you were obliged to ask, and I apologize on behalf of the younger women at Barren House, who most assuredly should have spoken to me about this long ago and spared you the task. And now that that’s settled, may I offer you a different post, Mrs. Landry?”

“A different post?”

“Yes, my dear. If you would be so kind as to give me your attention for just a moment.”

“Of course, sir.”

“If I understand you correctly, what’s needed at Barren House is primarily strong backs, not nursing skills. Isn’t that right?”

“For the most part, yes.”

“How many nurses do you think should be available, for all this bathing and feeding and so on?”

“Two at least, perhaps three.”

“Very well. We’ll begin with two, and add another if it becomes clear that it’s necessary. If you agree, what I’ll do is find two strong and willing women looking for work as — what do they call them? practical nurses? — all right, I’ll hire two of those. One in the daytime and one at night?”

“No, sir, I’m sorry; you need two in the day, and then one on duty during the night in case she’s called. They could manage nicely if both were there all day and they alternated spending the night on call, first one and then the other.”

“Well, let’s give that a try. And then I’d want you to stay on for two purposes, Mrs. Landry. Neither would be very burdensome, as I perceive it, but you must feel free to tell me if I am mistaken.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you.”

“My father is vigorous and alert. But he has spells of severe vertigo that trouble him frequently, he has what I understand are mild infections of the urinary tract, he needs someone to keep track of his diet because he has a tendency to gout — as well as a tendency to gluttony, unfortunately. He’s acquired a disgraceful sweet tooth.”

“He needs a nanny with a nursing license, in other words.”

“Exactly. He’s not bedfast except when he’s suffering from one of his illnesses, off and on, but we need someone at hand for those times. We also need someone who will notice that he should be in bed, because we often don’t see it soon enough. I’d like you to move here to the main house to look after Father, as described, but also check in once a day at Barren House to see that everything’s being done properly there. And to do anything that actually requires a trained nurse. And of course if someone there became seriously ill, you could stay at Barren House until the crisis was past and we would manage without you here temporarily. Could I persuade you to do that, my dear? It would be a tremendous help to us all.”

Michaela was delighted. This would let her carry on her vocation of death without having to exercise it on the women; it would let her maintain her relationship with the women of Barren House — which, to her complete astonishment, had come to be something that she treasured — and it would save her the nuisance of hunting for a new post, learning the ways of a new family and patient, all those tiresome things. It was a pleasant surprise, something she had not expected at all and found very welcome.

And perhaps she would be able, once in a while, to see something of the progress of the woman’s language. She had no skills that would let her be part of the work, and she had better sense than to get in the way by trying to help with things she understood not at all. But if she stayed on, and if she observed carefully and discreetly, perhaps she could stay in touch with the project. Now that the women of Barren House knew that she was aware of Langlish, they might talk to her about it sometimes, even teach her a few words — it was at least possible.

“Do you need time to think it over, Mrs. Landry?” Thomas asked her.

“No,” Michaela answered. “I’d be delighted to accept. It wasn’t that I wanted to leave, sir — it’s very beautiful here, and I’m happy with the post. It’s just that the situation as it is currently set up had become impossible. What you propose should solve it, and I’d like to stay.”

“Wel’ll have to put you in a guest room, I’m afraid — and there are no elevators. And no private bath.”

“I don’t mind that, sir. Really.”

“It’s settled, then?”

“If you’re satisfied with the arrangement, Mr. Chornyak.”

“Then I’ll proceed at once to find the two practical nurses… you don’t mind staying on at Barren House until they’re hired and then getting them settled in their duties, I assume.”

“Not at all. I’d be pleased to do it. And if I can do anything else to help in this transition period, Mr. Chornyak, please let me know. For example, sir… I know the Nursing Supervisor well. If you would call him to authorize it, I could probably find competent women quickly and make the necessary arrangements. There’s no reason why you should have to trouble yourself about that.”

“Would you do that?”

“Of course.”

“Excellent, Mrs. Landry. I’ll call the man, and we’ll get all this out of the way. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a great deal of work to tackle.”

Michaela allowed her lashes to fall, modestly presenting him a gesture that would imply the ancient courtesy without demanding it of her, and then looked at him carefully. Yes; he liked that.

Thomas found himself much taken with Michaela Landry. There was something about her, some quality he could neither define nor describe, that made him feel somehow… oh, taller , when she was near him. Taller and stronger and wiser, and in every way a better man. He had no idea what it was she did, and hadn’t time to observe her to find out, but he knew that he enjoyed it. When she was in the room, he found that he tended to move to be closer to her, if he could do it without seeming obvious. And he fell quickly into the habit of calling her to his office each day to discuss various minor matters having to do with the health of Paul John or the Barren House patients.