The Mind of Naud

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The Mind of Naud

By Ralph Pilolli

The absence of the daytime hospital flurry brought the confinement of Professor Jerome Naud’s helpless, hopeless, condition to the reality that the window next to his bed was the only shadow of light’s life to his limited existence on this earth. Sleep he thought, is such a waste. Therefore, he did very little. The bed on the opposite side of the room was empty once again, and bringing to mind, ‘Partners till death do they part’.

Despite his effort to savor every moment of time, the startling, “Good morning, Professor Naud, did you sleep well?”, brought into his semi-conscious mind, the realization that sleep is strength that one cannot deny. He answers in a state of unrealized grogginess.

“Good morning, Nurse Ramie. Yes, I must have slept well, for I thought I was awake.”

“Ohh, Professor Naud, you say the strangest things. Now what do you want for breakfast? The usual, right? I don’t know why I ask. Oh! By the way, you’re going to have a new roommate. A Mr. Vinzzz. No! Mr. Vizzz. Nooo! Darn! Well anyway, his first name is Alfonso. Italian you know. Charm you right off your feet, and according to the E. R. nurses he has whiplash, and his leg is in pretty bad shape, but there is certainly nothing wrong with his hands. Oh, oh! That morning sun is directly in your eyes. I’ll draw the drapes.”

“No, Nurse! Leave my morning life as it is; for it is the only natural wonderment, I have left. Besides, in a short while the new high rise apartments across the way will shadow it. Please, Nurse Ramie, leave me alone so I may enjoy the remainder of this morning life.”

“Now, now, Professor Naud, you’ll feel better once Mr. Vizzz…ohhh! Whatever his name is brought in, and you can share your ‘Wonderful Window Wonderment’s’ with him. Oh, oh! I’m starting to talk like you, Professor. Well anyhow, your breakfast will be here soon. Don’t forget now, push the red button for emergency only, and the little light lemon one for just any old thing.”

With the echo of, “Despite yourself we still love you Professor”, and the closing of the door, which he could only hear and never view. A feeling of comfort, a feeling of loneliness, not knowing which out-weighed the other, surrounded him.

“Excuse us, you’re blocking the corridor”, said with the sweetness of voice, yet reverberation of command, that at this moment is being wielded by Nurse Day. She pushed before her the fifty five-year-old, six foot four frame of Alfonso Vinzarro. He, being seated in a stainless steel wheelchair, with his white cast leg sticking straight out, commanded as much authority as the white cast form of Nurse Day.

“Now, Mr. Vinzarro, you will be sharing a two person room, and I would like to brief you on who your room partner is, and what he is like.”

“Wait a minute, Nurse Day!“ stated the dependent patient. “Since I have to be here for quite awhile, will you call me Al? Because I would like to call you something besides, Nurse Day. Even nurses have first names.”

“Mr. Vinzarro, your reputation noted to me by the E.R. nurses has already proceeded you. So as Head Nurse I’ll inform you now that it will not be tolerated in any form, fashion or way. I hope I make myself perfectly clear, Mr. Vinzarro!”

With an almost tattooed smirk, Al replies as only he can, “You know, for such a little broa… I mean gal, you’re tough.”

“Mr. Vinzarro, don’t you forget it.”

Approaching, just as the elevator doors open to accept the two generals of this mental battle, one to his bodily recovery area, the other, to rid her of this wheelchair of overstuffed ego. Yet, it seems that within themselves, they had somewhat enjoyed this war of tongues.

Al speaks first in what seems like an eternity of silence as the elevator doors open on the twelfth floor.

“Nurse Day, it’s like this white cast on my leg, and the white uniform on your bod. They are only outer shells, and it sounds like yours needs as much mending as mine does. So, You do your best, … I’ll do mine, and I’m hoping for a tie.”

Nurse Day did not know whether to guard against or accept Al’s last word. So judging from intuition as a woman, coupled with the experience as a professional, she ignores what is said, and picks up the conversation as if it wasn’t.

“Before we reach your room, Mr. Vinzarro, I’ll finish what I started to tell you. Your roommate will be a Mr. Naud, Professor Jerome Naud. Many of his writings and poems have been published, and I might add, are quite good.”

“So far he sounds pretty boring, being that reading and especially poetry ain’t my, so to speak, forte. Can’t you find me another room?”

“Strange that you bring it up, because hospital policy would not put you in this particular ward.”

“Particular Ward? What do you mean by that?”

“Please, Mr. Vinzarro, let me finish. As I was saying this hospital does not normally put a patient of your type, and by that, I mean, unless you are terminal, into this ward. There is nothing contagious to concern yourself, for it is what is known as ‘The Transition Ward’. Now before you say anything more, we have looked into your medical insurance, which you took out recently, which was 1948, and accordingly this hospital is it. Without further ado, Mr. Vinzarro, we are here, room 1212. Until a space is made available in another ward, this is your home, and I will be looking in on you occasionally.”

“I won’t apologize for disturbing you Professor Naud, because I think that is what you need most. I want you to meet your new roommate, Mr. Vinzarro, or as he says, Al to his friends. Nurse Ramie told me she gave you a rundown on Mr. Vinzarro before she went off shift this morning. Believe me, every word of it is true."

“If I can get a word in edgewise, Nurse Day, thanks for the introduction, I think?

Then with the mannerisms and voice of innocence, which every man seems to have in him, Al asks, “Nurse Day, I’m feeling very tired, would you help me onto the bed?”

“Be patient, Mr. Vinzarro, the orderly will be here any minute.”

“Nurse Day, I’m really not feeling well, please help me.”

“Well, all right, Mr. Vinzarro. If you can, support yourself with your good leg. Thaaat’s good! Now put your one arm around my shoulder, and the other on the bed, aannd over you go!”

With a sigh of comfort from Al as he is being lifted, a yell of “Yiiiiii!” from Nurse Day, as a result of an amorous pinch, followed with a somewhat lecherous laughter mixed with the words, you should never trust an Italian with one hand that’s still free.

“Round one, Mr. Vinzarro, enjoy it while you can.” Then turning to the patient on the opposite side of the room, “I apologize Professor Naud for…”

“No, no, Nurse Day, please no need for an apology, especially at your expense of embarrassment. I have just felt the pleasure of laughter, something that I have not done in quite awhile. It is I who owe you an apology, and Nurse Ramie was correct, there seems to be nothing wrong with his hands.”

With a solemn look on her face, Nurse Day exits toward the door, then holding it open with one hand, points to the right side of Alfonso Vinzarro’s bed, then in a very controlled tone of voice says, “Well now that the entertainment is over, I have work to do. Just one more thing, Mr. Vinzarro, the buttons by your bed, the red one is for emergencies, the yellow one is for…”

“For whatever, and will you deliver that special”, interrupts the ever grinning Al.

In a very controlled professional tone, Nurse Day responds, “The beginning of round two, Mr. Vinzarro, and if I may finish what I was saying, the yellow one is for non-emergencies or as you put it, Mr. Vinzarro, for whatever! So, if you are in need relief from pain, just push that yellow button, and it would give me great pleasure if you would push it right up your…”

The echo from the hall, “Dr. Oswald wanted in emergency”, combined with the closing of the door, blotted Nurse Day’s final word, leaving little to the imagination of either Professor Naud, or the hysterical Alfonso Vinzarro.

There is a silence of enjoyment, each man in his own way, in a room that ten minutes prior had been confined to the thoughts and mysteries of what death brings, which is now broken by the inevitable manner of Mr. Vinzarro.

“Well old man, looks like we’re partners for awhile.”

“Don’t use that statement so loosely Mr. Vinzarro. The word partner in this ward has a whole new meaning. I have seen many men in the last six months fulfill the purpose of this ward, so delicately named, ‘The Transition Ward’.”

“Hey, old man, don’t lay it on so thick with me! I’m only here because there’s no room anywhere else.”

“My apologizes, Mr. Vinzarro. I’m not used to one so lively.”

“Forget it Professor. Now talking about lively, what do you do for entertainment in this place? There ain’t even a TV in this room.”

“My last partner was unable to watch television. As for me, television is something I have not felt a need or desire. My thoughts, my reading, my window, these are my entertainment.”

“Your thoughts and reading, yeah! But what’s with the window?”

“Mr. Vinzarro, my window is the only link remaining to the moving realities of the outside life.”

“Okay, Professor, I don’t understand all that, but do me a favor, will ya? Don’t call me Mister, a simple Al will do.”

“Alright. Simple Al it is.”

“Oh, ho! That’s one for you Professor.”

Two weeks mending for one, yet ending for the other have passed. The inconveniences of Alfonso Vinzarro’s neck brace: which has limited his peripheral view, coupled with the cast on his leg, which is hanging in a sling, has added to the relief of the nursing staff, for a more or less stationary weapon is easier to avoid. Do to this handicap, the only outlook to his outside world from the three walled area which surrounded his bed, was his newly acquired television set. At first, Al was uninterested in Professor Naud’s ‘Sunrise tales of the activities that transpired from the apartment high rise across the way.

However, the curiosity of only being able to hear and not view the very detailing descriptions of Professor Naud’s ‘Window Wonderment’s’, turns out to be the enabling factor to penetrate the imagination of Alfonso Vinzarro. Professor Naud did not know at first, whether it was the description of the every day drama in the park below or the goings on in the twenty-story apartment high rise across the way that held Al’s imaginary interest. That is until now, as Al anxiously awaits his favorite time of the morning when Professor Naud describes the details of the two women occupying the thirteenth floor apartment directly across and up one, one hundred yards from touch. It was this lack of touch, and the feeling of losing the flirtatious games with the many nurses, especially Nurse Day, that took him to settling to the next best thing, his imagination. It was this stimulation that got Al to thinking and now asking.

“Ya know, Professor, it seems like I seen you some place, there’s something about you. I just can’t put my finger on it.”

“Well judging by your accent, Al, it sounds like you’re from the Chicago area, and if you were there fifteen years ago you may have read my beat column, ‘Mind against Crime’, in the nightly ‘Chicago Moon’.”

“Hey! Hey yeah! You was on television too. Right? Yeah, I remember now. Boy, do I remember. Not only was I in Chicago then, I was a part of your column. Small scale, but those times were tough. Now if I remember right, cause I kinda got called out of town for a while, if you know what I mean, that there was this big shakeup at City Hall.”

“I admire your ability of recall, Al.”

“Yeah, but now as I remember, I only seen you quick like when my favorite Nurse wheeled me in here that first day, but ya take away them thick glasses and beard, and you off about fifteen years. Yeah! Yeah, that’s you! ‘Never forget a face Al’ they used to call me. Jeezzz! Do I remember now. Not only did half of City Hall disappear, but also so did you. Damn, what a small world. Would you believe, this far from Chicago and I run into you. You know once in awhile I run into some of the old mob or should I say…’Boys’.” Then snickering the remark, “Guess ‘The Mind Against Crime’ went blank, ehhh Professor?”

“Yes, Al, I guess you can say that, however, I accomplished what I set out to do. Then when I learned through my sources that there was a contract put out on me, and as I’m sure you know, a murder contract is valid till the job is done, so my wife and I disappeared. Or as you put it, ‘The Mind Against Crime’ went blank.”

“But what’s with the Professor Jerome Naud bit?”

“Part of the disappearing act, Al. Obviously, I changed my name from Gerald Mind, to Jerome Naud. And the only reason I am telling you this, Al, is because anybody that means anything to me is gone now, and my time is limited.

“Heavy, Professor. But you know I understand it, and you don’t have to worry, your secret is safe with me.”

“Worry, Al, I exist here only to die. You worry Al, not I.”

For the most part of every day there was an imaginary wall between the two men. Al’s eyes were on the TV set, but his thoughts were concentrated on how he could get this newly acquired information to the right people, or the so called ‘Boys’, which summed up to how he could readily cash in on it, one way or the other. These thoughts combined with the ‘Soaps’ he was watching produced a sleep and a nightmarish dream about the now infamous window. If he had not been so abruptly awakened by Professor Naud’s gasping plea of help, Al might have paid more attention to the nightmare he later noted on the pad next to his bed.

“Al! … Red! …Red button! … Help!”

“Hey! What Professor? Yeah, yeah! Button! Where in the hell are those buttons when you need them?”

The room that moments before had held only the thoughts of two men was now busy with the thoughts and efforts of the Trauma Team successfully doing its job. Soon the room was quite, and Professor Naud was sedately resting. Alfonso Vinzarro reaching for the phone on the nightstand next to his bed, glanced at the note pad, then quickly reading only the first line of his dream that he had previously jotted down, “i was lookin’ out side this room windo and i saw”, remembering, then ignoring, what his ‘Fortune Telling Mother’ had inbred in him about the importance of dreams, especially nightmares. He decides where his priorities lie by dialing a number he hoped was still valid.

“Good, good morning gentlemen. How are we this morning? I let you both sleep a little later this AM, because I heard you had a bad yesterday, Professor. You look great this morning. The doctor will be in soon to check you, then I’ll bring you breakfast.”

“Thank you, Nurse Ramie, would you please open the drapes for me, for I feel my morning life is what I need most.”

“Of course, Professor. And shame, shame on you Alfonso. It’s after seven, and you are still sleeping. Shame! Shame!”

“What!” Exclaimed the disgustedly half awakened Al. “Professor! Don’t tell me I missed … then to be woke up by that … that morning time machine, and she can’t even do that right! Oh, hey, I didn’t mean to yell at you, Professor, but being woke up and hearing, you know who, anyhow, how are you feeling?”

“Now, now, Al, don’t be so hard on Nurse Ramie. And yes, thank you, I do feel all right. Besides the morning ritual of the two women has ceased for the time being. Looks like they are leaving not only with suitcases, but with a couple of male escorts.”

“I swear, you men are all alike”, exclaimed Nurse Ramie. “But it’s good to see you so cheerful, Professor. And as for you, Alfonso, I’ll start over again, if you will.”

“If it’s an apology you’re looking for, Ramie, I might, if breakfast is half-way decent.”

“You’re so sweet in the morning, dear Alfonso. I’ll make sure your milk is a little sour, just to neutralize you.”

Before Al could shoot back another remark, Nurse Ramie was half out the door singing, ‘Oh what a beautiful morning’…

Al could only shake his head side to side, wanting this morning to either end or begin all over again.

“Now that ‘Miss Mouth Runneth Over’ is gone, Professor, fill me in on what’s left of our morning ritual.”

“Well, Al, as I stated before, our two favorite women seemed to be cancelled this morning, but hopefully not for long.”

“Good, God! It had better not be. Without my two lady friends, mornings will never be the same. What about the apartment below, the two lovers, are the still waking up in separate rooms?”

“Yes, Al. He, number one, is still sleeping on the couch. However, He number two in the bedroom…oh, oh! How involved can one get? Now we have not only He one and two, it looks like they have added a He three.”

“Wait a minute, Professor! You mean…now does He number one know that He number three is in the bedroom with He number two?”

“Al, I think I know what you’re trying to say, but we shall have to return tomorrow morning for the answers to your stirring questions. For literally, the curtains have been drawn.”

“Just great! I knew it was going to be one of those kind of mornings, looks like the only one we got left on this mornings agenda is ‘Miss Afternoon Delight’. Has she got the old man out the door yet?”

“Not only out the door, Al, she is going with him.”

“This whole morning sucks, Professor. And you know what I think? I think Nurse Ramie set this whole thing up. That’s what I think.”

“That may be one of your weaknesses, Al.”

“What…Ohh! Thanks a lot, Professor. That’s all I need this morning.”

With such a morning Al’s only other escape was the TV blasting away on the perils of Daffy Duck, but his thoughts were on the phone call he had made the previous night.

This day’s end had brought much activity to the usual tranquil atmosphere of room 1212. The concern of the hospital for Professor Naud was quite evident. For there had been a couple of doctors during the day that Al had never seen before, and he had also thought he knew every nurse in the hospital; however, he was quite surprised to realize that he did not. Nurse Day even paid a surprise visit, perking Al’s ego for a swing at strike three.

“Good evening, Professor. I apologize for not coming in as often as I used to. For one thing, I finally took my vacation, which was spent mostly at the beach and the other…

“My favorite colors, brown and white. You’re looking great kid”, interrupted the ever-grinning Al. “I was wondering why you haven’t been by to see me or should I say, us?”

“Don’t flatter yourself, Mr. Vinzarro. The nurses have been drawing straws as to who tends to you. Since I have been back I’ve drawn the long straw, which I keep next to my heart in remembrance.”

“Cute, and according to my score card, a little foul.”

“I think your last word describes you quite accurately, Mr. Vinzarro. Good evening for now, Professor. Time for me to go home. You are looking good; keep up the fine spirit. I hope to see you tomorrow. As for you, Mr. Vinzarro, your ego should keep your spirit going for a long time.”

Al was left without comeback, for he did not know if he was being complimented or insulted.

The room was now glaring with the brilliance of the setting sunset, transcending to the glare of the TV.

The luminous 3:05 AM from Alfonso Vinzarro’s watch, along with the faint glow from the bottom of the door marked 1212, was the only illumination in a room deluged with the blackness of a moonless night. Al, despite his cast and neck brace was mentally and physically jerked awake from the abyss of a fall from that recurring nightmare. As if the timing were predestined, a faint sound from across the room became a low audible plea.

“Al! Can’t move, it’s happening again. The button, push the button!”

Without hesitation, Al felt for the glowing red emergency button. Upon grasping it, he just could not seem to do the simplest of task, to push that glowing red light. At first, he could not figure out why. Then whatever lack of conscience he had took over. He knew why…”The Window.” He rationalized, “The Professor he’s a nice guy, but he’s dying anyway. All I got to do is pretend I’m sleeping, then the window is mine.”

The plea, even though weaker, echoed even louder to an empty conscience. Al quickly forgets the time warp from that first plea to the now inevitable last gasp as the room filled again with the Trauma Team. Only this time leaving with the feeling that there was nothing more they could have done.

Al looks at his watch and realizes what seemed like infinity had only been an hour, and now he could think and hope that there was enough time for him to see what is now his ‘Morning Ritual’.

Nurse Ramie, who had just come on duty, along with an orderly, was putting the final touches to a room that had once again fulfilled its purpose.

Al felt the time was right to ask, “Nurse Ramie, I wonder if you would do me a favor?”

“Why, Alfonso, I never heard you, ask for a favor before! So, what can I do for you?”

“Well, I was wondering if you, and since you have an orderly to help, I was wondering if you would move my bed over by the window there. You know, move that bed over here and mine over there. If you could do it now?”

“I…I guess so. If that’s what you want.”

Al made sure the drapes were open when Nurse Ramie and her orderly were finished. He was now feeling the glory of ‘His Window’ as the reddish orange sunrise filled the room. Thoughts of the two women across the way, and up one, were predominant. The triangle of He lovers, Miss afternoon delight, not to mention all that he just knew the Professor was not telling him. Ahhh, they were all his now!

Alfonso Vinzarro did not hear the tinkle of window glass as the bullet passed through it and his heart.

The police surmised that the bullet came from the apartment across the way and up one. The two women who occupied it had disappeared, leaving many valuables behind. What was the motive behind this killing? Well, Alfonso Vinzarro had a record, a rather large record. He was small time, but still connected to the…’Boys’. Must have been the settling of an old score. That’s what the police report read. As far as Alfonso Vinzarro’s belongings left in the room, there wasn’t much. They found and read the scribbling on the writing pad left on the nightstand. However, none of these police investigators had a Fortune Teller for a mother. They just tossed the writing pad into the trash bag next to the bed.

It was just a short while until the police had released the room 1212 back to the hospital. Nurse Ramie and the orderly again were there to prepare it for the next occupant. Picking up the trash bag, the writing pad falls out, but was caught before it hit the floor by Nurse Ramie.

“Not a bad catch, for a gal”, the orderly quickly jokes.

“Thanks a lot, but look here. Al actually wrote something, I didn’t think he was capable, now that I look at it I’m not to sure he was, yet it has an intrigue to it, listen………

i was lookin’ out side this room windo and i saw

a huge black clowd headin straight to me a storm

clowd i think or maybe a heracane and wen i was

lookin’ outside this here same room windo i herd a

tinkl soun lik glas brakin and i went thru the windo

and fel a fel in to a big hol in the grond i wok up in

this cel it was realy werd cauze ther wer no windos.

“Funny how this ‘Transition Ward’ seems to live up to its name. Even the very strange Alfonso Vizz…ahhh, Vinnn… whatever his last name. Oh, well! It doesn’t matter now anyhow.”

epilog

GREED

IS A

WINDOWLESS CELL

story of

Philantasy