Ruby stared up at the white, textured ceiling of her padded, caring cage. Watching the patterns and shapes immerge from the bumps and ridges of the high prison as the rain knocked on her window. She shivered, the pain in the stomach had subsided, but her head was still light from the medication.
She had to send the girl away when she came to ask her how she was. She was not up to visitors. The name of the girl escaped the grasps of her memory. Things often did. Did she know the girl? Was it Joan? Her friend from the WAF, come down to visit? Had she come down to swap gossip and lipstick she had be given by her American beau? No, Ruby had a vague recollection of going to a funeral where an American was crying, in sad old man sobs that shook his aged frame.
Had it been her daughter? Come down from London to tell her of the traffic getting to the home and how well Ruby’s little grandchildren were doing. Were they still little? Did they have children of their own now? She just could not recall the moments of her life that had just passed her by, but could remember the first time she went to a dancehall at 13 with some other girls from her stitching class.
She tried to lift her legs around from the high edges of the bed. Once so slim and agile, now weak and veined. Failing moving her legs, she rolled to her side so she didn’t have to look at the dismal picture of the rain outside her window. She tried to gain some sort of collection of time, how long she had been in bed. The shadows had moved across the room, or had they always been that way?
A shuffling brought her attention to the narrow wardrobe opposite her bed. A young girl was sifting through, throwing all the hidden black from the small space. The girl, from the back, appeared to be wearing a red, knew length dress with a square neck and high waist. Her long dark hair was pulled back by two matching ribbons. Even Ruby could tell it was dated.
She turned and met Ruby with a wide mischievous smile that spread across her still round cheeks.
“How did you get in?” Ruby asked, feeling weak and contemplating pulling the assistance cord that hung above her bed.
“What happened to the colour?” the girl asked, ignoring Ruby’s question, “I love colour. What changed?” The girl cocked her head and looked at Ruby with bright green eyes.
“Who are you?”
“You, just younger I suppose. Or maybe no one. Depends how you look at it really.....” the girl trailed off, leaving the thought above Ruby’s bed, making her head ache. “I wanted to see what I will be like in 70 years, whether I’d be married, happy, dead even, but never here, not in a place like this”
“Why are you here?”
The girl stopped, looked around the room. Absorbed the white, bear walls, and the cold and empty space. She shivered as if she could feel the aging curse of the building enter her bones and begin to weaken her spirit.
I don’t know, what am I doing here?”
Young Ruby stepped back, eyes wide, fear slowing overcoming her young eyes. Age had attacked her fresh face, her posture slumped.
“How could this happen to me? How did I let this happen to me?” Tears ran down both Rubies’ faces. One for her lost youth, one for what was inevitably going to happen to her, and everyone and everything she knew.
“I had no choice, age happens and you will lead your own life. Age is the price we all have to pay for a long life well spent, and heaven is the end reward. I know that now”
The girl’s eyes grew wide again, in excitement for what lay ahead of her. Her back straightened.
“You promise?”
The old women was tired, her head drooped languidly on her pillow.
“What your name again dear?”
But the aged girl had left.
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