Four Minutes

         It would be four minutes before she entered the room, but she didn’t know it.  Rosalina stood outside the door, hands clammy.  She knew better than to listen in on them.  She began to pace back and forth, dragging her feet across the rust-colored carpeting.  This had always been too much for her to bear.  She rubbed the palms of her hands on her jeans, staring at the window.  The sunlight shone through, signaling that it was a beautiful day.  She would rather be outside, but Rosalina knew that this had to be done.  She peered out the crack in the window, watching a bird hop along the sidewalk.  The young woman found a strange sense of comfort in the robin as she observed it peck fruitlessly at the pavement.  She felt like it should be symbolic, perhaps giving her a sign, but Rosalina’s mind went blank. 
         Heart pounding, the young woman tried her best to make herself comfortable as she sat down.  The seat was wooden and hard, and only made her more nervous.  Rosalina buried her face in her hands.  She came here all the time, but it was this particular door she dreaded the most.  Rosalina bit her lip, guilty for feeling this way.  She closed her eyes and leaned back, praying for the time to move more quickly.
         Three minutes remained.  Rosalina could hear the familiar deep voice behind the door.  She couldn’t make out the words, nor did she want to.  The young woman let out a small yawn as she heard another muffled voice respond to the first.  She rubbed her temples, trying to concentrate on her duty.  She nearly jumped as an elderly man approached her, startling Rosalina.  He simply nodded at her, acknowledging her existence, and took a seat next to her.
         Two minutes were left.  Rosalina was never sure whether or not to talk to people in these situations.  The man answered Rosalina’s question by leaning back, facing forward, and closing his eyes.  Rosalina glanced over at the man.  His bald head was covered with age spots, and he held a hat in his lap.  The grey cap was outdated and odd; she wasn’t sure if it was a fishing cap or a cowboy hat.  Staring at the silver rivets and purple ribbon adorning the hat, Rosalina decided it was neither.
         It would be one more minute before Rosalina went inside.  She closed her eyes, imitating the old man, but they quickly snapped open.  His nose was whistling.  Rosalina blinked over at him, wondering if he had noticed his offense.  She spied hearing aids in his hairy ears, assuming he didn’t hear it at all.  Shutting her eyes once more, she synchronized her breathing with his, hoping it wouldn’t bother her as much.  She was wrong.  Rosalina slowly opened her eyes, taking in her surroundings.  It didn’t make her feel any better.  Wiping her sweaty palms once again on her lap, Rosalina proceeded to stare at her shoelaces.
         Suddenly, the door creaked open slowly, revealing an elderly woman.  Rosalina hid a smile.  She had the standard white afro of most women her age, and she hobbled out of her small room into the open.  Crouched over, her face was blank, emotionless.  Rosalina tried to focus on herself.
         The old man was staring at Rosalina expectantly, as if telling her to hurry up.  Slightly annoyed, Rosalina stood up, brushed her dark hair out of her face and walked toward the door.  Her feet felt like two heavy bricks, but her spaghetti legs moved automatically.  She stared at the doorknob.  It was a dull metal, and lost its shine from so many hands gripping it.  Rosalina reached out and touched it.  It was the same cold it had been all of these years. 
         She pulled the door behind her, cutting out quite a bit of light.  Her heart beat loudly out of her chest.  There was a certain quality to the stillness in this room she had experienced no other place on Earth.  Perhaps it was from the seriousness that lingered in her heart during these times.  Her wet fingers slowly slid off of the doorknob, confirming her decision to enter the dim room.  The door clicked behind her, signaling her presence.
         Stepping slowly toward him, Rosalina swallowed the large lump in her throat that had formed four minutes ago.
         “Good evening, Father.”