Picnic

Picnic
Christopher Bogart

At the end of a hospital visit with my aunt,
I walked down the long blue corridor toward the elevators
and slowly gaining ground on an orderly dressed all in blue,
the fingers of his right hand were rapped firmly around
the rattan handles of a wicker picnic basket.

I must admit to a little curiosity,
if not a little amusement
at the incongruity of a picnic basket,
lined with a red and white checkered table cloth,
in the hands of a hospital orderly.

We turned together to face the elevator door.
I was heading to my car to bring my aunt home,
he, I mused, to a plot of green grass under a small tree,
maybe across from the hospital parking lot; and,
in that semi-secluded spot, to enjoy a quiet lunch,
away from illness and grim realities of a hectic hospital day.

The doors rolled opened slowly.
He gestured for me to enter first,
then he turned and faced the door.
“What floor?” he asked as he pushed the button labeled B.
“Ground Floor, please.” I responded.
He nodded and pressed G.

I sighed as I thought of my aunt’s recent illness,
and how happy I was to be taking her home.

The elevator lurched into action, and downward.
He stared, solemnly, at the metallic doors.
To break the tension, I opined
“You must be looking forward to lunch.”
Then asked, “Going on a picnic?”
He turned his head, ever so slightly toward me
and smiled ever so politely,
if a little pointed,
then looked down at the basket in his hand.
“Oh. You mean this.” He sighed with a heavy heart.

Hardly an attitude to take at the prospect of a picnic.

“No.” he said. “This isn’t what you think.”
Well, I wondered, what else could it be?
“This,” and he gestured to the basket, “is so not to alarm the visitors.
I am transporting this infant to the morgue in the basement.”

In the brief silence that ensued, mercifully,
the bell rung and the doors of the elevator opened.
“Ground floor.” He stated plainly,
and to my eternal relief,
he stepped aside to let me pass.

I did not look back, as the doors closed behind me,
And the elevator made its solemn way to the basement below.
I had to get my car.
My aunt was being released from the hospital today.