Blackwood Farm - Anne Rice [75]
“He took turns with me in the room, and so did Jasmine and Lolly.
“Finally Sweetheart’s eyes opened and would not be closed, and her breathing became mechanical as if she herself had nothing to do with the rhythmic heave of her chest.
“I ignored Goblin. Goblin seemed senseless to me, a part of childhood to be repudiated. I hated the mere sight of Goblin with his inane look of innocence and questioning eyes. I felt him hovering. Finally, when I could endure it no longer, I went down into the pickup truck and told Goblin that what was going on was sad. It was what had happened to Lynelle and to Little Ida, that Sweetheart was going away.
“ ‘Goblin, this is bad,’ I told him. ‘This is awful. Sweetheart’s not going to wake up.’ He looked grieved and I saw tears in his eyes, but maybe he was only imitating mine.
“ ‘Go away, Goblin,’ I said. ‘Be respectful and decent. Be quiet so that I can watch with Sweetheart as I should do.’ This seemed to work some change in him and he ceased to torment me, but I could feel him near me day and night.
“When it came time to shut off the oxygen, which was by then the only thing keeping Sweetheart alive, Pops could not be in the room.
“I was in the room, and if Goblin was there I didn’t know it. Aunt Ruthie and the nurse had the orders from the doctor. Jasmine was there and so was Lolly and so was Big Ramona.
“Big Ramona told me to stand close to the head of the bed and hold Sweetheart’s hand.
“Off came the oxygen mask, and Sweetheart didn’t gasp for breath. She just breathed with a bigger heave of her chest, and then her mouth opened just a little and blood poured down her chin.
“It was a horrible sight. Nobody expected it. I think Aunt Ruthie went to pieces and somebody was calming her. My focus was on Sweetheart. I grabbed a wad of paper tissues and went to blot the blood, saying, ‘I’ve got it, Sweetheart.’
“But more and more blood came, sliding down her chin, and then Sweetheart’s tongue appeared between her lips, pushing out more blood. Someone handed me a wet towel. I gathered up the blood, saying, ‘It’s all right, Sweetheart, I’m taking care of it.’ Pretty soon I had all the blood. And then, after four or five widely spaced breaths, Sweetheart breathed no more. Big Ramona told me to close her eyes, which I did.
“After the doctor came in and pronounced her dead, really dead—I went out into the hall.
“I felt a dreadful elation, a horror that seemed manic when I look back upon it, a hideous safety from the consequences of Sweetheart’s death due to the giant hospital enfolding us, the seamless fluorescent light and the nurses at their station very nearby. It was wild and pleasurable, this feeling. It was as if no other burden on earth existed. It was a great suspension, and I hardly felt the tiled floor beneath my feet.
“Patsy was standing there. She was leaning against the wall, looking all too typical with her huge yellow hair, wearing one of her fringed white leather outfits, her nails glittering with pearlescent polish, her feet in high white boots.
“Only then, as I stared at her, at her painted mask of a face, did I realize that Patsy had never come to the hospital once. I went into a silent stammer. Then I spoke.
“ ‘She’s dead,’ I said, and Patsy came back fiercely:
“ ‘I don’t believe it! I just saw her on Mardi Gras Day.’
“I explained that the oxygen had been turned off and it had been very peaceful; Sweetheart had not gasped or suffered, she had never known of any danger, she had never known fear.
“Patsy suddenly flew into a rage. Dropping her furious voice into a loud hissing whisper (we were near the nurses’ station) she demanded to know why we had not told her we were turning off the oxygen, and how could we do such a thing to her (meaning herself); Sweetheart was her mother, and who gave us the right?
“Pops appeared, coming round the corner from the visitors’ waiting room, and I had never seen him so angry as he was then. He whipped Patsy around to face him and told her to get out of the hospital or he’d kill her, and then