Serial: Nurture/Destroy Episode 5

EPISODE 5:
Snatching up her walker, Lois hustled into the corridor. It wasn’t Ada yelling, but a short gnome of a woman with ill-cut straight hair who was clutching at the crotch of her lime green polyester pants in front of the unisex public restroom.
“Lemme in there!” the woman hollered as she pounded on the door with her free hand. “You witch, lemme in there or I’m gonna wet myself! I’m partly paralyzed and I gotta have the bar on the wall to pull myself up!”
“Welcome to Sunny Valley,” Lois whispered toward the person behind that battered door. To the all-but-dancing gnome, she said, “I have a pull up bar in my bathroom. Would you like to…”
The dance jerked Lois’s way and then past her. The gnome disappeared into #231. Lois maneuvered forward to rap gently at the hall bathroom door. “She’s gone. You can come out now.”
“I was done, but I was afraid to come out,” a paste-white, oval-faced lady whimpered at the door she held barely ajar. “Where is she?”
“Using my facilities,” Lois pointed back toward her apartment. “I’m Lois…”
“You’re the new guest with all the grandchildren and the brother who makes those cream puffs.”
“Grand nieces and nephews. No children of my own. Just my brothers,” Lo started to explain, but the sound of flushing startled them both.
“I can’t get away!” the white face disappeared and the door closed with a distinct click as the lock slid closed on the inside.
The gnome of a woman waddled out wiping her hands on Lois’s handtowel Roberta had embroidered with an elaborate “Q.”
“Musta been a kid done this,” the gnome commented as she peered at the irregular letter. “Rob was eight at the time,” Lois explained.
“Eight, huh? Must not’a had a very good teacher. Here.” She laid the wet towel on Lois’s arm and, hitching up her lime green pants, and swung away down the hall.
Open-mouthed, Lois leaned into her walker and watched the gnome disappear into the south corridor.
“Talk about poor teachers,” Lois muttered. “Who instructed you in manners?”
“Talking to yourself?” a male voice rasped behind her and Lois startled, dropping the wet towel.
Incredibly long fingers reached to pick it up. Only a man with Marfan’s Syndrome could have fingers like that.
“Samuel?”
Alf and Ada’s only son shuffled beside her. She looked up into that gaunt, Abe Lincolnesque face and saw emotional pain she’d never witnessed in Silent Sam.
“Come in, come in, child,” she said though Sam was in his early seventies. But first she rapped again at the bathroom door. “It’s Lois. She’s gone,” Lo informed the closed door.
Sam’s shaggy brows lifted, but he asked no questions even as he helped Auntie Lo into her rocker.
“Sit down, Samuel,” Lois invited, forgetting for the moment that his lanky frame was far more comfortable unfolded. “What is it?”
“I - I tore her apart,” Silent Sam whispered.