Unpleasant Task  

 
     "Possum!  Where's Possum?"  Martha yelled, shuffling up the hallway from the patients' rooms.  Patients were not allowed passed the double wooden doors, but try telling that to Martha.  

     This was my first real summer job- security guard at Southern  
Virginia Mental Health Institute.  I worked second shift, which generally  
required little effort and left lots of reading time, making it perfect  
for me.  I had to make rounds every hour to make sure all the doors were  
locked that were supposed to be locked.  They always were.  That's all  
my job description entailed.  No one said anything about Martha.  

     I called down to the nurses station to let someone know that Martha  
was on the loose, and by the time I looked up,  I saw the last of her large,  
calico covered derriere disappear out the front door.  Not again, I  
thought to myself, pushing back my rolling chair.  
 
   "Hold down the fort,"  I said to Mrs. Setliff who was working the  
switchboard next to me.  "I'll get her this time."  

      I hurried out the door and scanned the cars in the parking lot for  
a head a gray, frizzy hair.  Sure enough, there she was in a blue sedan.  
People really should pay more attention to the "Please keep your car  
doors locked" sign.  

     I opened the driver's side door- thankfully she hadn't locked it  
herself- and said, "What are you doing out her, Martha?  Suppers  
waiting."  

     "I ain't eatin' no supper 'til I find my Possum."  Possum was her  
boyfriend.  It was hard to imagine.  

     "Martha, the car just won't work without the keys.  Now come on  
back in."  

      Martha sat straight ahead with both hands on the steering wheel.  
She rocked it gently side to side, staring intently into the trees.  "No."  

      I put my hand on her arm.  "Martha, this isn't your car.  It's time  
to go."  
   
      She jerked her arm away.  "No."  
  
     "I wonder if Possum called while we were out here?  Maybe Mrs.  
Setliff knows."  
       
     Martha swung her pink slippered feet out the door so fast she like  
to knock me over.  She finally got out, carrying with her her usual aroma  
of disinfectant and gas. 

    "That Possum, he's handsome.  One handsome man."  She stared at her  
feet as she scuffled back in.   If only it were always that easy.