Stuart SandersonGEORGE'S ROOM*For forty-five years George had lived in this room, he felt like it was his home. Everything was his own making; he had a twenty-five inch Sharp television, a stereo system which was second to none. Oil and water paintings mountains, scenic landscapes with trees and lakes and animals such as grey and humpback whales were neatly hung all over his room. Also, George had many photographs of African elephants. He had many family pictures as well. George had arranged everything by him and his family. George's room was like his kingdom; he loved it very much. Then one day, some officials from Inglis House came to visit George. They informed him a new program would begin, where residents could learn how to live 'independently' and said "we need your room, for others get used living on the outside." "For how long?" George asked in a nervous voice. "As long as it takes," they told in uncaringly. Two weeks later, George's family and friends had to help him pack his belongings. He had to choose among his pictures and paintings because his newly assigned room was smaller than his old one. His television and stereo system were hooked up alright, but it just wasn't same. George soon became depressed and his MS came back too. He missed his old room; often George would visit his former home and watch as many people came and went during the course of the program. Although his heart yearned desperately to return to his old home, knew it was a lost cause. Over the next few years, both George's MS and his depression worsened. The nursing staff tried to encourage him to do things, but nothing worked. One day, his care nurse entered his room and found him not breathing. She yelled to the medicine nurse to come to George's room. But it was too late; George had died alone in the middle of the night. While his MS may have been what finally caught up with him, the longing to return to his old room just hastened things even more. A few years later, the program was disbanded by a new group of Inglis administrators who no longer felt it was necessary to move people around in order to give them the skills needed for living independently outside of Inglis House. Soon residents were returning to Three North Wing again — and I was one of them. The room I was given was George's. Everything began coming together; my own personal pictures of friends and family were hung beautifully. I also had few paintings of whales and dolphins. Immediately, I felt comfortable and content; this room soon became my home. Then one night something began to happen, my lights began flicking on and off. I thought somebody was playing a trick on me, my door was closed and everything was silent. The lights continued flicking, but more rapidly. Then a soft but strong voice came through my windows. I pulled the covers over my head in fright. "Don't be afraid" the voice said. "My name is George, I used to live here in this room a long time ago" "I heard about your story" I said, as I pulled my covers down slowly. "I can't see you, but I can hear you" "But I can see you and understand everything you are saying" said George. "I am a ghost and you don't have to be afraid. I won't hurt you." I looked around the room, but I didn't see anything or anyone. "Did you talk to anyone before me?" I asked. "No, because they came and went so quickly, and I didn't like how they arranged my room" replied George. "But I like the way you arranged it."
For several more weeks George visited me and we talked about everything, from our families to Inglis House. Then one night, he said, "This is my last night coming to see you." "Why?" I asked as tears began to flood into my eyes. "Did I do something or say something wrong?" "No, not at all" George said. "I want to travel all over the world before I die again" "I didn't know ghosts died also." "Yes we do" George said sadly. "Where are you going?" I asked. "England and Scotland, my relatives lived over there and after that, I don't know." "Will you come back to visit me?" I asked hopefully. "I don't know Stu, but I will remember our talks always" George said in a shaky voice. "I will miss you and our talks" I told him. "Take care of our room" George said. "I will." I promised. And with that the room became quiet. I rolled over. A few more tears came out of me. Then sleep followed.
|