Kathy's Glasses, Etc.

Kathy's Glasses, Etc.

By: Monica Lynn Bostic

Another coffee would set Kathy's head right, but she was pretty sure she was getting a UTI. She'd had a long and busy autumn. Kathy didn't excel at prioritizing her health. 

Kathy loved living alone but she wasn't sure that living alone loved her. There was no one to remind her to drink water, and to finish her antibiotics even if she felt better. She had no one to blame for stuff going missing, not even a pet. It started small– her favorite socks, her hair brush.

Today, it was her glasses, unsettlingly. Kathy couldn't see a foot in front of her face without her glasses, even as a child her eyesight was awful, so she spent a lifetime carefully placing them by her bed before sleeping. At worst, she could have knocked them off her nightstand in the night. She blindly pawed around the floor beside the bed. She didn't find her glasses, mostly dust bunnies. She found one smooth, round object that closer scrutiny revealed to be a pearl. An easily explained find, except that Kathy never wore jewelry. Maybe the previous tenant?

Between the probable UTI and being blind as a bat, Kathy felt justified in taking the day off of work. She called her friend Meryl, who came over to help her find her glasses. 

“Thanks for your help,” Kathy said, gripping a steaming mug that was unfortunately full of chamomile tea and not coffee. 

“No problem!” Meryl chirped. “Can't have you driving without your eyes, can we? Plus, a great excuse to hang out. I'm not missing anything, except The Price is Right.”

“Let me know if you find anything else down there,” Kathy sighed. “Some socks, my hairbrush.”

“How many things have you lost, lady?” Meryl laid half under Kathy's bed with a flashlight. “Is your mind slipping? Time for a neurological evaluation?”

“I'm still running circles around the kids at work. It seems to be an at home thing.”

“Hm, sundowners then. There's nothing under your bed but dust bunnies.”

“And pearls,” Kathy muttered into her cup. 

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Well, let's go to Wally World and get you some new glasses. If you find the others, they can be your back up.” 

Meryl drove them in her spacious SUV. It was a cold and wet day.

“You think it's the new apartment?” Meryl asked.

“What about it?”

“You know, like a new environment. You don't have a home for everything yet?”

“It's not a big place, you pretty much searched the whole thing. A pair of socks, a hairbrush, I can understand. I haven't lost my glasses in 60 years of life until now.”

“So what then? Thieves? Very specific, boring thieves?"

“I don't know, l'm at a loss. What do you think?”

“Early onset dementia,” Meryl answered instantly. 

“Kick rocks, Meryl.”

Kathy took her eye exam and got glasses while Meryl browsed the seasonal decor. Kathy cheered up with her eyesight restored. 

“Can I take you out to lunch for the trouble?”

“No trouble at all. That sounds like fun, but I'll take a raincheck. Not because of the rain. I'm just not particularly hungry.”

“Well, come back to my place and I'll make you a cup of coffee. I'll have more chamomile,” Kathy added ruefully. 

The two women stood in stunned silence when Kathy opened the door, revealing the state of her apartment. All of the cabinets were hanging open, and their contents were on the floor. 

“What in the actual…” Meryl started but didn't finish.

Kathy looked around briefly before surmising that nothing was missing.

“Not a thief. Not Alzheimer's. A ghost then?” Meryl said. “The last tenant? Sir, are you there?”

“Ma'am,” Kathy corrected, suddenly thinking of the pearl.

A cabinet in the kitchen closed and then opened. 

“She wants to communicate,” Meryl observed. “We should get a Ouija board.”

“We should?”

“How else are we going to communicate with her? Know any mediums?”

“Isn't there one in your bookclub?” Kathy asked.

“No,” Meryl said. “You mean Ilene. She does reiki. She quit coming to the book club after she hooked up with Judy's ex husband. I didn't tell you about that drama? I'll explain in the car, back to Wally World.”

It was Kathy's first time using a Ouija board. It worked exactly as the instructions said. She and Meryl put their hands on the planchette, which glided in slow circles.

“That's not you, is it? Kathy asked.

“Not me,” Meryl confirmed. “Our deceased new friend, what's your name?”

“S-U-S-A-N”

“Nice to meet you, Susan, how are you today?” Meryl asked.

“A-N-G-R-Y”

“Why are you angry?” Kathy wanted to know. “Is it something I did?”

“N-O”

Susan had a lot to say. She lived in this apartment for ten years, and she'd quite enjoyed it. One day, her son came to visit. He was appalled to find that his mom was living on bourbon, cigarettes, and Dove bars. He felt she needed more help. So he put her in a nursing home, where he rarely stepped foot. Susan died in the nursing home. Then she returned to the last place she had truly been happy.

“⁹Why not pass on?” Meryl asked. “The next life might be nicer than this apartment.”

“R-E-G-R-E-T”

“What do you regret?” Kathy wanted to know.

“T-E-L-L H-I-M”

“You want us to give your son a message?”

“Y-E-S”

According to Susan, her son likely still lived in their family home, which she'd moved out of after her husband had passed away. She gave them the address. Kathy and Meryl got into Meryl's SUV for their third trip of the day.

“Are we really driving to a stranger's house to relay his mom's final message?” Kathy asked.

“Would you rather have waited at home? Are your shows on?” Meryl teased.

“No. I admit, I'm kind of curious, but a little nervous.”

“I'm excited. I haven't had this much fun since the book club malarkey. I'm so glad you called me this morning.”

They pulled in front of a two story, yellow Victorian house. The sun was down now, so the porch lights were on. They climbed the stairs and Meryl rang the bell.

An unassuming man with dark hair and glasses answered the door. 

“Hi. Are you David?” Meryl asked.

“I'm David…Can I help you ladies?”

“I'm Ilene and this is Judy,” Meryl told him. “We're friends of your mom. There's a message she wanted us to pass on. You should take off your glasses.”

“My mom? She's dead. My glasses?”

“Don't say I didn't warn you,” Meryl said, before punching the man squarely in the face. His nose squirted blood and his now broken glasses skittered across the pavement. 

“You were a shitty son. That's all. Goodnight.”

Meryl and Kathy scurried away while the man bellowed obscenities and felt around the pavement for his broken glasses.

“I think I'm having heart palpitations,” Kathy said.

“I feel great,” Meryl laughed as she put the car in gear. “Are you hungry? I'm hungry. I'll take that rain check now. Let's go get some pancakes or something.”

When Kathy returned to her apartment, her old glasses were on the nightstand.