“She still not awake?” she asked in a voice that creaked like an old wooden door.
Sebastian stared at her, quite horrified. He’d always felt comfortable around the elderly, but there was something very different about this woman. It was as if one of those stuffed spooks set out on the lawn during Halloween had suddenly come to life. He bit his tongue and shook his head.
“We were up yammering all night long,” the old lady said with a wave of her hand. “She’ll probably sleep until noon.”
“She talked… to you?” Sebastian asked, edging forward on his chair.
The old lady nodded with an air of self satisfaction. “Sure, we talked about lots of things like…like…” She smacked her lips, and rolled her tongue around in her mouth. Then she reached for the cup of water on her tray, but couldn’t quite make it. “Do you mind?” she asked.
Sebastian immediately stood up to help. His fingers were firmly around the glass, but he was so shaken that he knocked over the entire pitcher beside it, spilling cold water all over the floor and on the old lady’s bed and blankets.
“You clumsy boy!” she shrieked, raising her gnarled hands up in the air.
“I’m sorry,” Sebastian muttered, grabbing some paper towels that were next to the sink. “I…I didn’t mean to.”
The old woman slowly lowered her arms and examined Sebastian with beady eyes the color of dirty dishwater. “Your grandmother told me about you,” she whispered, her voice a breathy snarl. “She said you had a thing for throwing water on people, and that because of you she dreamt about tidal waves all night long.”
Sebastian’s mouth fell open, and he backed away slowly before dropping back down to his chair. He suddenly felt an uncomfortable pressure on his bladder. If the old lady were to say, “boo” he’d probably wet his pants.
But she eased back on her pillow, and sighed, her face twisted in agony. “You’ll have to excuse me. You see, I’m just not used to this place.”
“Why…why are you here?” Sebastian asked.
“They tell me it’s my heart, but I’m sure it’s worse than that.”
“I have a bad heart too,” Sebastian said, sounding almost cheerful about it.
The old lady planted her eyes on him again and nodded wisely. “I know, but even so, your grandmother needs you now more than ever. The others,” she said waving her bony claw at the door. “Not so much.”
At that moment, Gloria entered the room and one of the nursing aids came in after her carrying an armload of fresh sheets. She pulled the blue curtain that separated the two beds closed and began to change the old woman’s sheets. Sebastian was surprised that the aid came since he hadn’t noticed the old lady press her call button.
Even so, she wasted no time in expressing her displeasure. “Look at this mess. How can you expect anyone to get well here?” The nurse’s aid said nothing, but the old lady continued to complain and whine about the poor care she was receiving and how she was hungry and in desperate need of a bath. Sebastian looked down below the bottom edge of the curtain, saw her bare veined feet on the floor and shuddered.
He made room for his mother on the chair, and although he couldn’t see what was going on behind the blue curtain, he heard the ongoing commotion. The bed had been changed and the aid was helping her patient back into it. “Don’t be so rough.” The old lady commanded in between groans, but finally she grew quiet. Sebastian tried to put her out of his mind, but he knew she was back there listening to every little thing. Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw the blue curtain flutter, but when he turned to look at it directly, it was perfectly still and she remained silent. He couldn’t help but wonder if the old lady had died. Perhaps if he were to peek behind the curtain at that very moment, he’d see her mouth gaping open and her eyes staring blankly up towards the ceiling.
Gabi showed up a few minutes later. She was flustered as usual, and her short hair was still damp from a recent shower, but her makeup was artfully applied. Sebastian glanced at his mother. She wasn’t wearing any makeup at all, not even lipstick. Her pale lips were set in a straight somber line, and the only colors visible on her face were the purple and blue shadows that had collected in the hollows under her eyes when she was tired.
“How is she?” Gabi asked.
Gloria shook her head. “No change, the doctor will be here shortly but no matter what he says, it’s obvious that Ma can’t go on living alone.”
Sebastian was about to mention what he’d just heard from the black haired old lady, that his grandmother had been awake and talking all through the night, but decided to keep quiet. He knew that sometimes the elderly could get confused, and this old lady appeared to be more confused than most.
“She can live with me,” Gabi said. “I’m sure Ma won’t be any trouble. She isn’t crotchety and demanding like some old people are.”
Gloria scoffed, “True, but you’re never home. If Ma lived with you, she might as well go on living alone.”
Gabi shook her head. “I don’t like the thought of Ma in a convalescent home.”
“They’re not all bad. I made a few phone calls yesterday, and the social worker from the hospital should have some more referrals for us this afternoon.”
Sebastian was devastated to think that his grandmother wouldn’t be returning to Bungalow Haven. She loved her house, with its little porch and mailbox. And to think that he might never visit her there again filled him with a heavy sorrow that settled at the base of his throat and threatened to choke him, but he was unable to utter a single word in her defense. “Open your eyes, Abuela,” he thought while staring at her face. “Open your eyes and tell them that you’ll never leave Bungalow Haven no matter what they say.” But her eye lids remained fused together, and Sebastian feared that they would never open again.
Gabi had a seat on the edge of the hospital bed. “And why aren’t you in school little man?” she asked with a saucy smile.
“I wanted to be with Abuela Lola,” Sebastian replied, trying to keep serious, but it was impossible not to smile back when his aunt ruffled his hair so affectionately, and then she turned back to Gloria.
“Mando won’t be able to come by today. He’s working on a big case, but he said to call him if there’s any change.”
Gloria nodded, her expression stern and unwavering. “We have some important decisions to make and it would be better if he were here.”
“I thought you’d be happy to hear it. If Mando comes, there’s always the chance that Susan will be with him.”
“You have a point,” Gloria replied. “I don’t want her poking her stuffy nose into decisions regarding Ma.”
Gabi knew better than anyone how her sister felt about Susan, who Gabi agreed could be an annoying snob at times, but she also thought that Gloria had allowed her pride to overwhelm her better judgment. Over the years Gabi had tried to tell her sister that their grudge had lasted long enough and that it was time to call a truce, but her attempt at mending fences was usually met with derision. While it had never been easy to give her sister “constructive criticism,” maybe now, with their mother so gravely ill, she might listen.
“You know Gloria,” Gabi said. “Sometimes I think you’re a little too hard on Susan. I mean, God knows she has her faults, but she means well most of the time. And don’t forget, she’s your brother’s wife.”
Gloria folded her arms stiffly across her chest. “How can I forget when you’re constantly reminding me?”
“Don’t you think it would be easier if you…”
“And don’t you think it would be easier if you didn’t keep bringing it up all the time? What’s done is done, and we can’t change the past. Anyway, we have more important things to worry about right now.” Gloria glanced over at Sebastian to see if he’d been paying attention to them, but he was fixated on the blue curtain next to him, poking it with his finger and watching it swing back and forth.
She didn’t want to think or talk about Susan anymore because the
profound disdain she felt always came flooding back with a vengeance, robbing her of the precious energy she needed to get through her day. She pushed these unpleasant thoughts out of her head, and turned her attention back to her mother.
A half hour or so after Gabi’s arrival, a dark young man wearing a white lab coat, and a stethoscope slung around his neck entered the room. This was not the same doctor they’d spoken to the day before, but neither Gloria nor Gabi seemed concerned about this as they began to discuss their mother’s condition.
“We’re not exactly sure why she isn’t responding,” he said with quiet authority. “And it’s difficult to make any predictions at this stage. Are you sure she’s been taking her medications?”
“She’s always taken them religiously,” Gloria replied.
“Will she ever wake up, Doctor?” Gabi asked.
“Every case is different, but the longer she remains unresponsive, the poorer her prognosis. I can tell you that the first forty-eight hours are critical.”
Gabi gasped. “You mean if she doesn’t wake up by tomorrow, she’ll never wake up?”
The young doctor shook his head. “As I said, we don’t know for sure, but in a statistically significant number of cases, that’s what we’ve seen.”
“What in the world is that supposed to mean?” Gabi asked.
But it was Gloria who replied. “I think what he means is that the likelihood Ma will wake up after tomorrow is less than it is today, but that there’s still a chance even after tomorrow that she will.”
“Precisely,” the doctor replied.
Gabi looked between Gloria and the young doctor, no more satisfied than before. “Well that isn’t saying a hell of a lot is it?”
Gloria gave her younger sister a look, and turned to the doctor again. “Thank you, we’ll keep this information in mind.”
The doctor left, and Aunt Gabi threw up her hands. “What information? He didn’t really tell us much of anything.”
“So what else is new?” Gloria replied tersely. “I learned a long time ago that doctors don’t have all the answers. Hopefully, the social worker will give us some information we can actually use.”
Gabi dared not argue because she knew that when it came to dealing with doctors and illnesses, Gloria was the unquestioned expert in the family. She sighed and leaned over the hospital bed toward her mother. “I have to go to work now Ma, but I’ll be back later,” she said, trying to sound as cheerful as possible, although her expression was glum. Then she kissed Lola’s forehead as though she were already dead and laid to rest in her coffin.
For the next couple of hours as they waited for the social worker to arrive, Sebastian was content to watch his grandmother breathe, matching his breath to hers and hoping that after every exhalation she would open her eyes. It seemed to him that if he just concentrated hard enough, he would be able to help her slowly wake up.
All the while Gloria kept crossing and uncrossing her legs, sighing loudly and leaning over to see who was walking down the corridor. “I should’ve brought something to read,” she muttered. “Maybe they have some magazines down at the gift shop, want to come?”
Sebastian would have gone, but he was certain that a couple of breaths ago he’d seen his grandmother’s index finger twitch, which he took as a very good sign that his mental efforts were paying off. “I’ll wait here for you,” he said, never taking his eyes away from her face.
Mere seconds after she left, he heard the curtain rattle behind him, and turned to find the black haired old lady eyeing him strangely. Incredibly, he’d forgotten she was there, and seeing her again was like resuming a nightmare he thought had ended for good.
“It’s a terrible thing to save your life and lose your soul,” the old lady said. “It’s even worse than dying a long and lingering death.”
Sebastian had no idea how to reply, and suddenly, he wished that the old lady would just hurry up and die.
She then closed her eyes, and eased her head back on her pillows. “Dying people see things, they know things,” she muttered, and then she suddenly opened her eyes wide, startling him half to death. “You see things too, don’t you?”
“I’m not dying,” Sebastian replied.
“Perhaps not,” she said. “But you know what it is to dance with death, and that will give you courage if you let it.”
For the first time, Sebastian allowed himself to look fully into the old woman’s eyes. Her irises floated in their sockets like a stream of clouds passing across a gray sky, and he had the strangest sensation that he was looking into a foggy window where he couldn’t see in, but where everyone inside could see out. All at once, he felt strangely drawn to her, as though he’d known her all his life.
“I don’t want my grandmother to go to a convalescent home. She’d rather die than go there,” he said.
“I didn’t hear you say anything when they were talking about putting her away just now. Why didn’t you speak out?”
“I’m just a kid. They won’t listen to me.”
“But you’re a kid who’s danced with death,” she whispered. “They may listen more than you think.”
“Is my grandmother ever going to wake up?” Sebastian asked.
The old lady smacked her lips again, and pointed to the water pitcher. Sebastian poured out a glass of water, carefully this time so as not to spill a drop. He offered her the glass and she drank deeply as he watched the muscles gather up and down her throat like a pale slithering snake. She gave the empty glass to him and said, “Your grandmother will wake up, and when she does, you’re going to have to take some chances.”
“What kind of chances?”
“You’ll have to risk everything,” she said, her eyes glittering.
Feeling frightened and confused, Sebastian stepped away from her. But the old lady didn’t notice. She just yawned and stretched her arms over her head before closing her eyes. In seconds she was snoring again more loudly than before.
The social worker, a young Hispanic woman named Lourdes arrived that afternoon as expected. After a few preliminary questions, she began to discuss the various convalescent hospitals in the vicinity. Gloria listened attentively while Sebastian stood back a ways wondering when it would be best to interrupt and say something. He had no doubt that the black haired old lady was listening to every word, but this time her presence emboldened him.
It was when Lourdes was laying several pamphlets at the foot of the bed for Gloria to consider that Sebastian finally built up the courage to say something. “My grandmother won’t like any of those places,” he said.
Lourdes turned to the sound of Sebastian’s voice, as though noticing him for the first time.
Although he had directed his bold comment to the social worker, it was his mother who responded. “Sebastian, do you think this is what I want? Do you think this is what anyone wants?”
Sebastian shook his head, feeling very badly when he saw the muted agony in his mother’s eyes. He wasn’t making things any easier for her, but he couldn’t stop now. “She doesn’t want to go there, Mom. She’ll die if she goes there.”
The social worker spoke gently and professionally. “I know this is very difficult for you to understand, but people in your grandmother’s condition can’t live alone.”
“It’ll be okay little man,” his mother said. “We all want what’s best for your grandmother.”
“And that’s for her to go back to Bungalow Haven where she belongs,” Sebastian replied, his hands curled into fists.
Gloria and Lourdes agreed to talk more about it the following day, and when the social worker left, Gloria called Sebastian to her side. “Your grandmother is very old,” she whispered. “And you must prepare yourself for…”
“She’s going to wake up,” Sebastian said with such authority that she held him away at arm’s length to look him in the eye.
“How do you know Sebastian? How can you be so sure?”
With his heart hammering away in his chest
he replied, “Because I’ve danced with death and I see things. I know things.”
Gloria’s face went pale and her hands slipped away from his shoulders. “Who told you this?”
Sebastian glanced at the blue curtain and then looked into his mother’s eyes and said, “Nobody told me. I just know.”
Chapter Six
On Sunday morning, despite Jennifer’s complaints that she’d had enough of hospitals, the entire family went to see Lola together. It had been decided late the previous evening that everyone needed to be there since this was the day that difficult decisions would be made regarding Lola’s long term care and placement. Given what the doctors had told them, this could also be the last time the grandchildren saw their grandmother in a more or less presentable condition. The longer she remained in this vegetative state the worse things would get, and Gloria didn’t want her children to witness their grandmother slowly withering away to nothing.
She’d visited several of the facilities suggested by the social worker, and had already spoken to her sister and brother about what she’d seen. Sebastian overheard some of the conversation and was disappointed that she hadn’t given them his perspective. That moment of hopeful magic they’d shared the day before didn’t last very long.
Nevertheless, it was consoling to remember what the black haired old lady had said to him when his mother left to use the restroom. “Well done, Sebastian. You have something special, and when you share it with others, you’re able to make a difference.” It felt so wonderful to hear her say this, that he had to fight the urge to embrace her.
“Thank you,” he replied shyly. “I hope that your heart gets better, so that you aren’t dying anymore.”
For the first time, she smiled which made her look almost pleasant. “You too,” she whispered before closing her eyes. And she slept the rest of the afternoon away, and this time the sound of her snores was almost endearing.
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