"Mr Staton, look what I brought you!" Candace entered the room, almost singing. Mr. Staton was a resident of the Rest and Care Asylum long before her arrival. Apparently, he was one of the oldest in the institution.
Candace had been working there for at least 5 months. Working with the elderly was something she enjoyed and was already used to. After all, she was practically raised by her maternal grandmother, as her mother worked too much and her father was not a very reliable person. When her grandmother began to show signs of dementia, Candace was the one who took care of her.
Candace opened the door and poked her head into room 647. The bed was empty, so she went in and placed the tray of food on top of the dresser.
"Mr. Staton?" She called and, as she there was no answer, she continued to look for him. She headed to the bathroom. The door was open ajar and he was sitting on the toilet, still wearing his pajama pants. Candace took a step back, looking away to give himsome privace, and called out to him again. When there was no answer, she decided to go in.
Joseph Staton stared straight ahead to the wall, unblinking. His shoulders were relaxed, his back arched slightly forward, as if his torso was more relaxed. Candace placed a hand on his back and massaged him as she talked to him.
"Mr. Staton, let's go back to the bedroom, to your bed. Your food is in there; very warm and tasty, just the way you like it, sir. Come on, let me help you up."
She glanced at his pajama bottoms, wondering if he'd She looked down at his pajama bottoms, wondering if he'd dirt himself with his own excrement. There was no odor, so, she guessed not. He offered a slight resistance, as if his body was too heavy, but finally, he started to get up. With a sigh of relief, she realized that there was nothing unusual about the patient's pants.
He still had a vacant look, but he cooperated and walked over to the bed. Candace sat him there, left him in the correct position to eat, and went to get the food. She placed the tray on the cart for food and moved it closer to the bed. She unrolled the spoon from the cloth napkin and started with the pumpkin puree.
Despite being almost 60 years old, the elderly man did not have any health problems, such as diabetes or high blood pressure. Apparently, he was just demented.
Before the spoon touched his lips, Candace felt a tight grip on her wrist. She was startled and looked at the source of the pain, which was increasing within seconds.
"Mr. Staton, w-what happened?" She tried to remain calm. After all, he was an elderly patient and it was necessary to be a professional. He wasn't violent, as far as she was concerned, so maybe he was feeling unwell.
The old man looked at her, his eyes slightly clouded. The skin around the eyes and mouth was full of wrinkles. His already completely white hair gave him a much older appearance. Candace had heard that suffering makes people age faster. As she didn't know his story, she could only assume that it was the case.
"It's time." He babbled. Candace put her ear close to his mouth, to hear better as he continued to whisper something. She noticed that he was just repeating the same thing.
The grip on her wrist slowly eased and she took two steps back. Suddenly, his eyes turned to her and seemed to unwind. He blinked a few times and broke into a smile.
"Miss Adams!" He greeted her, cheerfuly.
Candace was stunned for a few seconds. He was clearly someone else from minutes prior to that moment. 'Maybe he was daydreaming and now he had finally woken up', she thought. He looked at the spoon in her hand and pretended to sniff something in the air.
"Mr. Staton, how are you? I brought your food." She said as sweetly and serene as she could. She pretended nothing weird happened.
"Hmm. I can smell delicious food! Is this pumpkin puree?" He pointed a wrinkled finger at the spoon in Candace's hand.
"Yes, it is! Let's eat? Your food will eventually get cold." She approached the bed and held the spoon out to him. When he realized what she was doing, he opened his mouth and snatched up the puree, as if he was starving. He closed his eyes, savoring the food.
"A delight, as always! I love pumpkin puree!"
He didn't seem to realize what had happened. Candace wouldn't go into the matter. Why stress him? After all, it wasn't her job to make the patients uncomfortable, it was to take care of them. Mr. Staton was eating lunch and looked excited. She wouldn't spoil it.
The rest of the meal was uneventful. He told how much his ex-wife cooked very well and how sorry he was that he didn't appreciate it at the time they were together. He also said that his son was a handsome boy, studious, but not very talented in the kitchen.
"Very well, I'll take the tray away now. Do you want anything else?" Candace was already near the door. Joseph pretended to be thinking, but in the end he said he was going to take a nap.
Candace carried the tray, heading to the kitchen. Normally, it would only need to be left in the specific cart for this purpose, at the reception. However, she was thirsty and her shift was over.
It was after 8:00 p.m. and she was very tired. The hallway leading to the kitchen was empty, and her footsteps echoing on the floor were the only audible sound. She sensed that someone was behind her, so she turned around, thinking it was some other nurse, but saw nothing or nobody. She shrugged and thought, 'Today was a rough day, I must be delirious with tiredness and hunger.'
Opening the kitchen door, she saw that she was alone. Patients usually have an early dinner, but Mr. Staton talked a lot and she knew that living in a nursing home could be extremely lonely and depressing.
She drank the water, went to the locker room to change clothes, and again, the feeling of having someone with her. She hurried and got out of there as quickly as possible.
The path between the building's exit door and the gate to the asylum grounds was long and not very well lit. The bus stop wasn't that far away, but all the way along she saw shadows behind her. She was not a superstitious woman, but her grandmother was, as she was part native. Candace braced herself with the coat and quickened her stride.
After a few minutes of waiting for the ride, she saw a shadow behind her, as if it was a tall person. She decided to ignore it, but a male voice spoke right next to her ear. "It's time." Candace's eyes widened, but her body didn't move as if it was frozen. Her mind was in turmoil, unsure whether to look in the direction of the voice or simply try to run as far away, as fast as possible.
She didn't know how long she'd been standing there, but the bus horn woke her up. Her body reacted and she ran to the transport. The driver looked at her like the poor girl was crazy.
"Calm down, missy. Looks like you saw a ghost." The driver said it smiling, with a slight tone of mockery, but just in case, he glanced in the direction the passenger had come running from. What if it was someone stealing her? He didn't want problems .