I can’t identify.
Then I pick up the intercom and inform Miss Adler that I am ready to go. She uses both her key and mine, returns the box to its slot, locks it and escorts me out.
I make sure the large manila envelope I took is secure in my big Coach bag. That purchase was a special and rare treat I gave myself last spring. I head back to the hospital.
****
On the fifth floor I find Mom and Lucille. There’s no news yet, so I sit down to wait. I take out my I-phone and check for calls or messages. There’s nothing much there. I fiddle with this and that and check CNN for news.
I go on Google and enter the word BELTZ and glance briefly at Lucille. She’s looking through a fashion magazine. She’s not watching me.
I look on Wikipedia. It says that Beltz, it’s also spelled Belz, goes back to the 10th Century and has, at various times, been part of Lithuania, the Austro-Hungarian Empire, Poland and the Ukraine. There’s also a town by that name in Moldava which may be the one referred to in the song…that song again!
Beltz is associated with a famous Hasidic Dynasty and also with the Black Madonna of Czestochowa. That’s a lot of fame for a small town.
I glance at Lucille again, but she’s absorbed in the magazine that she’s reading.
Then I enter LUBLIN. It is the ninth largest city in Poland and dates back to the middle ages. People then came from all over Europe to study at the Yeshiva, a place of religious study, there.
The Jewish population of Beltz was pretty much wiped out during the Second World War. Most were deported to the extermination camp of Belzec and the rest to Majdanek, which was the first of the Concentration Camps that were liberated. Unfortunately, it was too late to save more than a few of the prisoners.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see the doctor approaching. I turn off my phone and quickly join my mother and sister.
Lucille is the first to speak. “So how is she, doctor?”
“Dr. Lawrence”, his name tag says. He looks drawn and seems reluctant to commit himself. “She made it through, but it’s tough on an eighty year old. It’s hard on anybody. For a moment, we almost lost her. We’ll have to watch her closely. There’s always the danger of blood clots. She’s in recovery and I don’t expect her to be awake and talking much for several hours. Maybe you can see her very briefly this evening.
I recommend you go home for the next few hours at least. I have your contact information, in case anything develops. Go get some rest. I’ll check in on her during evening rounds, about six o’clock. The nurses will keep a close watch on her.”
With this he turns and walks away.
My mother and sister and I comfort one another with the fact that she is still with us and that’s a good sign. We make plans to meet back at the hospital at 5:45. Lucille calls home and tells the nanny that she’s on her way back. She calls her husband and brings him up to date then turns to me and, with a perfunctory hug, as if there had been no ugly scene earlier, she leaves with mom.
I go to the nurse’s station and hand the duty nurse my card and underline my cell-phone number. I ask the nurse to call me as soon as my grandmother is awake, then I leave.
I find a Starbucks in the neighborhood. It has WIFI. I order one of their healthy looking salads, although when I check the calories, I am taken aback. Healthy looking but 700 calories! I resolve to drink my coffee black, but don’t like the taste, so I use a “Sweet and Low” instead of sugar. Okay, so it only saves ten or twelve calories. I put the crackers back on the counter.
The place is not too busy at the moment, so one of the plush armchairs is available. I turn on the I-phone.
There are no messages except from Rudy. “Is everything alright? They said you’d be out of the office all week.” Rudy is a sweet guy and one of the few I’ve connected with at the office. I wish he were straight. I really like him.
You’d think that in a forensic accounting office with mostly men, I could find someone interesting, or interested in me, but they’re mostly married and mostly too old for me.
The young ones want action. I wouldn’t mind so much but I want at least the illusion that there is some interest in me as a person, not just as a one-night-stand. Also, they talk about the action they get, ad nauseam, and I don’t like the thought of being the subject of that kind of talk in my office.
I text Rudy that my grandmother is in the hospital; it’s a matter of her heart. I assure him that I’ll let him know as soon as I know her prognosis and I thank him for thinking of me.
I work in an office where we do research for litigation support and some investigation into crimes dealing with finance. I don’t carry a gun and most of my work is in the office, but some of my cases have been pretty interesting.
When the stock manipulations in one case came to light, it caused a 500 Point drop in the stock market overnight, not to mention criminal charges and arrests of a number of people.
More often, however, I deal with cases of divorcing couples where one, usually the husband, is trying to hide assets from the other, usually the wife.
A suspicious nature is something my colleagues and I either come by naturally or soon develop in this line of work. It comes from seeing people’s greed, meanness and sometimes criminality at work on a regular basis. It doesn’t take much to set off my colleagues’ suspicions, that sense in the gut that something is up. It goes with the territory.
I dig into my salad and promptly break the plastic fork. I guess I’m pretty tense. I get up for another, take a few bites of the salad and toss the rest in the trashcan. It’s one of those rare times when I don’t have an appetite.
I look up the procedure for getting a new passport and decide to head for the Federal Building, but first I find a camera store where they take passport pictures. I figure I may as well get that out of the way.
After spending a couple of hours at the Federal Building, I still have some time to kill. The Westside Pavilion is nearby so I head for it. I find a parking space and meander up to Macy’s.
I pass the luggage department and spend a little time there. The suitcases I have are old hand me downs and they don’t even have wheels. Maybe I should get something new.
I suddenly remember the bundle of cash in my bag but immediately stop myself. What a time for a splurge, with my grandmother lying in the hospital, I think guiltily! I thank the salesman and he hands me a brochure, which I slip into my bag. Maybe later I’ll come back. We’ll see.
I may as well head back to Cedars Sinai. The traffic on Wilshire Boulevard is it’s usual mess but I’ve got time, so I settle down for the long drive.
If I do take a leave, this might be a pretty good time to do it. I’ve just finished a major case. I’ve been with the firm for seven years. The idea of a break sounds pretty good, but will it be a break or another investigation? Is that why grandma picked me for this task?
I’m sitting at a light and reach into my bag and feel around for the little picture. As I draw it out, I’m wondering if I can identify the military uniform and what country it’s from.
I
