Page 20 of Homebound
The supply closet lady, who’d become way too familiar to Gemma in recent days, squinted with frank suspicion. “Aren’t you a hoot. Fishing for favors for an inmate?”
“Nope.”
The lady, whose appearance brought to mind no flowers contrary to what her name Marigold suggested, checked the schedule in a dog-eared ledger.
“You’re full of shit, helper McKinley. The third floor received clean linens last week, and their personal hygiene day is tomorrow. You’re not on schedule, and you ain’t getting nothing from me.” The ledger closed with a loud snap.
“The inmate in cell 35 is handicapped. He skipped several laundry days and personal hygiene cycles.”
The same hear-hear look from Marigold.
“Go on, check the ledger if you don’t believe me.”
The lady wasn’t in a hurry to do as Gemma asked. “If he waited that long for a bath, he can wait till tomorrow.”
“I won’t have time to take care of him tomorrow along with other inmates,” Gemma patiently explained. She detected a slight give in Marigold’s rock-hard refusal and zeroed in for a kill. “I have instructions to take care of the invalid today,” she impressed on Marigold without elaborating on whose instructions she was carrying out.
With a long-suffering sigh, Marigold opened her ledger.
“If you’re lying, I won’t give you anything at all,” she warned Gemma as she turned the pages with the help of a finger wetted with saliva. “Wasting water on laundry is prohibited. Extra articles of clothing are not allowed.”
“What if they smell?” Gemma couldn't help but ask.
Marigold scoffed. “Ain’t no rose garden here. The third floor, you said?”
Finally, they got to the right section in the ledger. Marigold traced each entry with her finger, her lips moving as she read the notes. “Cell 35, cell 35… the last time he got a set was… three years ago. Good for him. Not a waster.” Marigold actually smiled and went to get the clothes.
Gemma kept her mouth shut, but her heart ached for Simon. No one cared. No. One.
That was about to change, she thought savagely, as she turned to carry an armful of clean items upstairs.
“Hey,” Marigold called out. “I remember they used to have a wheelchair at the medical bay. We had a paraplegic here once, and the warden ordered a wheelchair for him. Humane treatment and all that. I didn't know if you knew. Might help to move this one around.”
Softening toward the woman, Gemma nodded. “Thank you, Marigold. I’ll check it out.”
Gemma emerged from the elevator on the third floor pushing a wheelchair laden with Simon’s change of clothes. Startled looks greeted her from behind the bars, and Ruby came over to investigate.
“What’s this?”
“A wheelchair.”
“What’s this for?”
“For Simon.”
“Our Simon? That one in there?”
“The one and only. I need your help, Ruby.”
“What do you need?”
“I need a bucket of fresh water. The Marigold person won’t give me a bucket after she’s already given me all this.” She pointed at the clothes.
Ruby’s forehead wrinkled, but she didn’t refuse.
“What for?”
“I’m going to give Simon a sponge bath.”
