THE PERFECT PERSON

by Erika Purtell

page 3 of 3

On the road again, she turned on the radio to tune out the noise in her mind. Robert Plant crooned, “- as we wind on down the road…our shadows taller than our souls…there walks a lady we all know…who shines white light -” She flicked the knob off with the vague hope it would break off in her hand. It didn’t. She tore the plastic from the Twinkie with her teeth. Out of habit, she sucked the cream from the inside of the cake. Her hands shook even more. She wondered if it would be therapeutic to finish Lydia’s suicide note before she went into the hospital. Would it be best to know beforehand what had driven Lydia over the edge or would knowing only make her feel crazier? She chewed the dry, well-preserved cake. Her thoughts and feelings didn’t make sense to her. Life didn’t seem real. The letter was still in her purse and she touched it again with sticky fingers. Maybe Lydia was really spending time with a boy somewhere writing poetry or beading necklaces. After all, Sgt. Woronov had described a body that only sounded similar to Lydia’s. Caroline would be viewing it in only a matter of minutes. She decided it had to be another girl and in no time she would be on her merry way. It had to be.

  She screeched the car to a halt in the parking garage of Citizen’s General Hospital. She slammed the door shut and it echoed. She locked it with the remote control. It beeped its friendly beep. She entered the hospital. An elderly woman at the information desk was involved in a phone call. Caroline stood above her, but the woman paid no mind. Caroline looked at the Martha Stewart decorated waiting room and vowed never to own such bland furniture. A nice sized TV played “Wheel of Fortune” with muted sound. She admired it as a man jumped up and down like a twelve-year-old girl. Thank God for TV, she mused. Thank God for diversions. We all need something to make us happy when life gets to be too much. We all need to stop thinking every now and again. We all need to just laugh at how silly we are as a human race. Don’t people in general take things a little too seriously? What a time we live in. Would service have been this slow fifty years ago? She drummed her fingers. Damn these lazy receptionists.
  “Hell-O?” Caroline’s voice quavered. She was extremely nervous.
  The woman put a hand over the receiver and raised her eyebrows.
  “I’m…” Caroline cleared her throat. “I’m looking for the morgue?”
  “Basement. C-1.” The woman said. She continued with her phone call.
  At the elevator, Caroline punched the down arrow hard enough that she hoped it would break off. It didn’t. She noted the 11th floor button was lit. Great, she thought. More time for her mind to get the best of her. She felt dizzy, almost giddy with anticipation. What if she fainted? What if there really was an afterlife and Lydia could see her right now? What if Lydia’s spirit wondered why she hadn’t read her suicide note? What if Lydia was laughing at her older sister’s sudden urge to flee?
  The green button glowed and she stared at it. Suddenly she realized Lydia didn’t have anything to live for, did she? The feeling that came over her was heart wrenching. Could she have helped Lydia somehow? She might have screamed if it hadn’t been for the soft bong of the elevator that snapped her back into reality. The doors slid open with an effortless SWOOSH and she stepped inside. She pressed B. Her stomach lurched with sudden movement. When Lydia was a child she teased Caroline for being afraid of everything. Even then, Lydia had been fearless and daring. Maybe Lydia’s last goodbye was to prove how fearless she was. Did the souls of suicide victims really go to Purgatory until their time actually came? Caroline felt like she was following Lydia into the bowels of hell.
  “Thanks, Lydia.” She whispered.
  The elevator door swooshed open and Caroline stepped into a bright, pristine white corridor. She cleared her throat and it echoed. There was a sign and arrow that read Medical Examiner’s Office C-1. She could hear the nauseating squish of her wet boots as she walked. As she approached the door, her stomach felt like it could fall right into those boots any minute. Her heart drummed in her ears reminding her she was alive. Unlike somebody else. She swallowed heavily.
  She pushed the heavy door open and was greeted with an unusual smell. It was as though her entire life had came to a head at this very moment. Her hand covered her mouth and nose. This wouldn’t be easy.
  “Caroline,” a voice greeted her and she turned around quickly.
  “Yes?” Her hand fell to her throat and she hugged herself with her other arm. Although the room was well airconditioned, she broke out in a nervous sweat. She didn’t dare take off her coat. She didn’t want the smell to attach itself to her sweater or skin.
  “Sgt. Woronov told me you were coming.” A tall, thin woman in a mint green smock approached. Her hair was salt-and-pepper gray, pulled back in a tight bun. She appeared dry and powdery in this room of cold steel, metal, and empty gurneys. “I’m Myrna.” She smiled at Caroline who shook more now than she did in the car.
  As she followed the woman through another door, her hand found its way to her mouth again. Her stomach was queasy and she willed herself not to be sick.
  “There is a sink in the other room if you need to vomit,” Myrna said casually as they walked. Her thin voice echoed slightly.
  Caroline wondered if this woman had any children. She seemed strangely asexual.
  Myrna continued, “I’ve seen grown men pass out, dead as doornails.”
  In a moment they stood in front of a gurney where the body was covered. Only the toes stuck out, untagged. Caroline waited in silent anticipation. Myrna lifted the starchy white sheet. Tears stung Caroline’s nose. She stared at the naked, slightly bloated body. The skin was a sickly gray color. Lydia looked as though she had drowned.
  Time stopped. Caroline realized she had clamped her eyes shut. With effort, she opened them again and looked closer at the body. Lydia had a tattoo around her belly button that she had never seen before. Her vagina was pierced. Caroline brought her eyes up to look at Lydia’s face. Long, dull brown hair was clumped around the face and neck. Unexpected tears ran down Caroline’s face as she smoothed back the hair that was too much like her own. She seemed peaceful. There was a slight smile on the lips.
  Caroline tried to swallow. Her mouth was incredibly dry. “This is Lydia.” She choked. “I’m giving a positive identification. I’ll talk to my parents tonight…” Her voice betrayed her. Tears fell onto dead skin. Her entire body shook and she felt as though her knees might give out.
  “It’s OK.” Myrna whispered, but Caroline barely heard her.
  Suddenly, waves of nausea pulsed through her stomach and she ran to the sink. She vomited the Twinkie and coffee. She was glad that she hadn’t eaten a proper breakfast. Thank God there was still aspirin in the car.

  Back in her Lexus, Caroline sat for a long moment and watched her breath form icy puffs in front of her face. She was still shaking. Myrna had explained that the body had been found in a bathtub in an abandoned apartment. The autopsy hadn’t been performed yet, but Myrna had told her the body showed signs of an overdose of narcotics or prescription drugs.
  Caroline tried to shake the disturbing vision that now haunted her. “Calm down,” she said to herself. She rifled around in her purse for her cigarettes. She pulled out Lydia’s doll and almost screamed. She dropped it immediately. It landed on the floor of the passenger’s side. When did she put it there? “Oh my God.” Her heart beat like it was trying to jump out of her throat. She found her cigarettes and tapped one as she waited for the lighter. She flipped her cell phone open and paused. She closed it. She wasn’t ready to call Mom. She would drive home first.
  She pulled out of the hospital’s parking lot, paid the lot attendee and drove away without her change. She realized this about 5 blocks away and pounded the dashboard with a tiny fist. “Fuck!” She said aloud. The radio would save her mind from snapping. Paul McCartney’s voice crooned, “Oobla dee Oobla da, life goes on…” She slammed the radio off as hard as she could. This time the knob came off in her hand. She swerved onto the shoulder of the road and quickly composed herself.
  Back on the highway, she smoked and willed herself to calm down. Her attention landed on the doll that stared up at her from its landing spot on the passenger floor. “Thanks, Lydia,” she said and pointed the cigarette at it. “You don’t have to deal with any of this anymore. I’m glad to know you care so much about yourself!” Tears welled up again and this time she let the floodgates open. For the first time in years, she sobbed uncontrollably into her steering wheel. She pulled over to the side of the highway. “How could you do this?” She cried out loud. “How could you give it all away?” Lydia’s childhood doll smiled its eternal smile. Caroline knew what she had to do. With tight lips, she took the suicide note from her bag. She swallowed and took a deep breath. She read out loud:

“By the time you read this I will be gone. I know this is a selfish act, but I realized early on, all I have to rely on in life is myself. I am not the perfect person everyone has told me I ought to be. I am not good enough and all I know is I am so tired. I have been searching for God my entire life. I will never know God unless I leave my being on this earthly plane. I am sorry for hurting anybody. I don’t want to be sorry anymore. Eternally, Lydia.”

  Caroline folded the note gently. “Life isn’t easy for any of us,” she whispered. “You always got the attention. You were always the problem child. You always had to have your way.” She choked back more tears, then decided to let them fall. “Just like you decided to leave right now for good. When the going got tough, you up and left!”
  She lit another cigarette and stepped out of the car. She looked up at an incredible sunset. Orange and pink hues melted together, casting a golden glow over everything Caroline could see. She sobbed quietly. “Who do you think you are?” She whispered into the cold, colorful December sky. “Why are you so special?” She threw the cigarette down and stomped on it. She stomped again and kicked at the gravel. “I hated you. Do you hear that? I hated you!” She kicked the gravel harder. Then she kicked her car door. It dented very slightly. “Oh, Fuck,” she huffed. “That’s great. Thanks, Lydia.” She stared at the golden sunset for another long moment. Her outburst exhausted, she felt slightly better. “I’m sorry, I never hated you,” she said. “Well, I did, but I loved you too. I don’t blame you for anything.” Just then, she noticed a single star in the sky. “I hope Lydia has found what she was looking for.”
  She flung herself back into the driver’s seat and punched the lighter again. She took another cigarette from the box with her lips. The doll watched. Caroline snatched it up and stared at it. It looked evil, as though it held some inner secret. She felt something hard inside the doll’s leg. On the side she noticed a different colored stitch. It seemed to come apart on its own and stale white cotton spilled out. Caroline put a finger into the hole and felt something buried deep inside. She hooked her finger around it and pulled out a gold chain. She stared at the opal angel necklace with disbelief. It shone its fiery rainbow, reflecting the last rays of the setting sun.
  Back on the road, Caroline cried a little more. Should she call Mom in this state of mind? She didn’t touch her cell phone. Suddenly the Tastee Freeze “T” appeared. It glowed like a beacon in the distance. She realized there was only one time she had ever cried half this much. It had been during her senior year in high school and her parents had been pressuring her to attend an Ivy League college. Their reasoning had been that Lydia would never be smart enough to have that chance. At the time they had listed all of her shortcomings and repeated them every single day until she broke down completely. {her is Lydia and she is Caroline?} Although by that time, she and George were no longer dating, he had been there for her. He had given her advice that she remembered to this day.
  She pulled into the parking lot and found a napkin in the glove compartment. She wiped her eyes and blew her nose and looked at herself in the rearview mirror. She frowned, but right now her appearance didn’t matter. She placed her sister’s belongings tenderly into the glove compartment along with the long lost necklace and her phone. It would help to have an old friend by her side right now.
  As she stepped from the car, Caroline somehow felt like a different person. She reached into the car to dispose the wet napkin and grabbed the garbage bag to take out with her. The empty cigarette boxes reminded her that maybe she also had a slight death wish. She tossed the bag into a garbage can near the entrance of the ice cream parlor.
  George was visable through the glass door. He stood behind a counter and instructed a teenage girl at the cash register. He had gained weight but he held himself with self-assurance as though this really was the place he chose to be. He was happy. At that moment, she realized she had no future with Rob who was always so quick to remind her of her numerous imperfections. Perhaps that’s what life was about and the challenge was to deal as best you can.
  George had once said, “Life would be boring if everyone was perfect.” She never forgot that advice.
  “You were right.” She whispered and touched the glass.
  George said something that made the teenage girl laugh. The girl gave change to an elderly woman who smiled and shook her head with subdued amusement. The woman shuffled to a seat and savored her colorful treat, deeply embedded in her own thoughts. Caroline took a deep breath, counted to ten and opened the door.

THE END

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