The Secret World of Maya Alexander

Chapter 60

February had brought a deep chill to the South Wales valleys, and with it a new blanket of snow which covered up the bleak barrenness of the land and its early, yet not quite sufficient efforts to announce the beginning of Spring. The bobbing heads of snow drops had disappeared beneath the vast covering of icy white. Schools closed, supermarkets ran out of bread and people were advised to only drive if urgent. Of course, institutions like the one which Maya Alexander had become a resident of over the last 6 weeks, had to remain open and provide care for its patients. So defining 'urgent' travel was never as simple as it would appear from the news announcements. And what of Maya's visitors? Should Alice and Jackie not bother to make their fortnightly trip based on the weather warnings. Should nature reminding the world of its inevitability, its beauty and its menace prevent them?

Of course staying at home would have been sensible and safer. But the motorways had been kept relatively clear and it felt to Jackie that not making an effort through the mirage of white snow was a sign of giving up hope. A sign that she believed that nature was almighty and the human heart must eventually bend to its will. And so she had decided. Despite the snow, which lay like a disguise in all its glory of deceitful penetrating purity, above the muddy soils and cracks in the pavement. The act of nature that made the world stop still and make a choice to complain, play or take a rest. Jackie decided that she would make none of these obvious choices, but that she would make the trip to Wales, just as she had planned and that nature's bleakest endeavours were not going to prevent her.

In fact, all of Maya's visitors had found themselves at a similar conclusion. Their visits had become a planned punctuation and a necessary symbol of their care and concern and unrelenting hope. And so, regardless of road closures and increased journey times, Maya was not left alone amidst her solitude for that treacherous week in February.

Helen and Marge had made what had become their weekly visit on Monday after work (which had commenced only once Alice had finally got Jackie to see that the visits might help Maya). Charlie had visited on Tuesday and Thursday and June had visited on Friday. Stephen had remained unmoved in his decision not to visit the woman, who in terms of the law of the land remained his wife, and to whom in vows uttered long ago, he had promised to love in sickness and in health. The difficulty was that he had never really believed she was sick. And he still refused to.

This was just a part of Maya's being that he could not bring himself to see. And unlike those who had made a routine of visiting Maya, he was not hopeful. He did not believe things would be okay. And he knew that seeing Maya would only serve to shift even more of his attentions to how hopeless things were. So he preserved what was let of his ability to keep on. He worked harder and paid the bills so that he could at least relieve any financial burden. From what he had been told about his wife's condition, he knew that no matter what miracle occurred, she would not be back working full time anytime soon. He comforted himself that he was doing his bit to support her, no matter what anyone else believed.

He kept himself occupied with useful tasks such as looking into how to transfer the house into Maya's name. He kept busy so that he could avoid the waves of anger which tried to shake him during quieter times when his guard was down. He kept a safe distance from all of these feelings so that he could finally let go of his wife. And although to June and Jackie he seemed selfish and stubborn. For once, Stephen was painfully aware of what was best for him, and for Maya and he was going to see it through. He stayed away from the hospital and maintained his resolve.

For those who continued to venture to Maya's side, the responses from the patient tended to remain fairly consistent.  She had by now fallen into a routine of accepting periods of wakefulness after being physically coaxed into a chair, and positioned next to the window, each morning. Beyond the window was a small wooded area that her eyes could enjoy, once they had learned to see beyond the metal railings that followed the perimeter of the building to mark it out as separate, contained and enclosed.