Waltz of Her Life

"Okay," Linda said, looking up at the panel again, thinking that it reminded her of what they used at restaurants, to alert waitresses that orders were ready. She wondered why neither Doris or any of the other nurses had shown it to her the day before. Quickly, she moved one of her black pieces.

Linda searched her mind for something to say, since it upset her that someone so young was receiving chemotherapy treatment. They calmly traded checker moves in silence.

After a few more moments, she decided just to talk to her the way she did with anyone her own age. "So, are you in school, too?"

Cindy straightened up and nodded, smiling, showing two rows of perfect, white teeth.

"I like school. Don't you?" Her next move placed her in the line of fire for one of Linda's pieces.

"Well yes," Linda said. "I got all A's. My parents are really happy with me." She looked down at the board, wondering what to do next.

Cindy must have noticed this. "Oh, you can go ahead and jump me. I made a dumb move."

Oddly feeling as if she was taking a rattle away from a baby, Linda jumped Cindy's piece, picked it up and placed it by the side of the board. When she turned to look at the board again, one of the numbers had lit up. "Oh no," she said. "They need me." She pushed herself off the recliner, at the same time trying to steady the checkerboard, keeping the places where they were.

As Linda stood, Cindy said "You're a great dancer."

Linda turned to her. "What?"

"I mean, roller skater. But you do the dancing they do, on roller skates. It's really cool."

"Thank you," she said. "You've been to the rink before?"

"A couple of times."

"Oh." Linda turned toward the doorway. In the front room the light flashed above the recliner with an elderly man resting in it. Linda gathered her cart and rolled it in that direction, while the third nurse, Marie, reached for a needle from the top rack.

Marie was older and quieter than the other two nurses, with tendrils of gray hair framing her face. "I don't think he needs the pan," she said. "But be ready. Where does it hurt, Mr. Aragones?"

The man groaned and pointed toward his hip. Marie swabbed his arm with alcohol and injected a painkiller. "Is there anything else I can do?" Linda asked.