by T L Harty
“Did your father know about the relationship?” Grammy calmly asked.
“Yes,” I answered. “Jed was over all the time. He and Dad became very good friends.”
“I see,” Grammy commented.
Yep, she was mad. No words were exchanged for a half hour. Whether she didn’t know what to say or believed the quiet was punishment, it made no difference to me- I enjoyed the silence. Lately, the emptiness of sound matched my lack of emotion for all things trivial. It amazed me just how much of life was trivial, and how death was not.
The hum of the car moving across the roads began to lull me to sleep. This was always the preferred way to travel because, when my eyes opened next, an hour or two would’ve been shaved off the travel time. Being just on the precipice of sleep, and ready to fall, Grammy’s voice broke the silence.
“Why didn’t you tell me about Jed?” she questioned.
Snatched from the comfort of sleep, I shivered. Grammy had a distinct advantage in this conversation because she most likely had thought about the question for some time. Perhaps, she even debated a couple of acceptable answers; whereas I, on the other hand, only concentrated on the monotony of the tires on the road.
“I don’t know,” I answered honestly. “When Jed came to the airport to meet us, he told me he couldn’t stop thinking about me. The next day, when you made us go for a walk, he said he was serious about having a relationship. I didn’t really think much of it until he explained that he would be attending Jesper, right by my house.”
“He was going to school at Jesper to be close to you?” Grammy asked.
“Yep,” I replied. “Once Dad discovered Jed was alright, everything moved so fast. I’m sure I would’ve told you at some point, but I was busy living life versus talking about it.” My eyes filled with tears. “He was my first love,” I admitted.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Grammy said. She paused before her next remark. “There was no way to see that romance coming,” she commented, shaking her head. “The two of you fought like cats and dogs when you were younger.”
She wasn’t wrong. We were treacherous to each other. “There was also that summer everyone thought Jed knocked up your friend,” she remembered. “But, that was before you were involved.”
There was no need to correct her about my romantic timeline, so I didn’t. She was consumed with her zucchini casserole the summer that Jed and I got to know each other better.
“Is there any way to suppress my visions, Grammy?” I wondered. “The visions of Jed’s accident were bad enough. There’s no need for me to see anything else. I don’t want to be an Oris.”
“You don’t have a choice,” Grammy informed. “The gifts will haunt you even if you try to evade them.”
“Then I don’t know if I want to live anymore,” I decided.
To this remark, Grammy pulled the car over to the side of the road. She put on the hazard lights and turned to face me. Her expression appeared angry.
“Listen here, Muriel,” she started. “I don’t ever want to hear you talk like that again. We come from fighting stock. It would kill me if something happened to you. Do you want to kill me?”
It was so confusing how the conversation got turned around, but it reminded me what Grammy meant to me. There was no way that I’d ever intentionally hurt her.
Grammy hit the hazard lights off, getting back on the road. “It’s settled then,” she announced. “There will be no more talk of that foolishness. And the best way to suppress visions, if you must know, is to maintain emotional consistency. You may have had the vision of Jed because you were happy about seeing him, a heightened sense of joy, if you will.”
“What’s the best way to control my emotions?” I asked.
“No idea,” she replied. “I’ve never had that many visions, and I certainly didn’t try to stop them. On the whole, Oris women tend to be emotional people. I’m no exception.”
It wasn’t long before we rolled past the old, grey barn, and Grammy yelled out: landmark. Her victory was hollow, when realizing she had no interested opponent. The crossing wasn’t far from the barn, on the opposite side of the small highway. It was a place that we had gone my whole life, but only memories of my last walk there with Jed lingered in my memory.
When we rolled up to the house, Gramps and the dogs greeted us. For some reason, my grandfather’s hug was the most comfort I had felt in weeks. The dogs jumped up to get attention, whining all the while. They made me smile. The house still looked as it always had. Only I was different in this unchanging landscape.
“It’s good to see you, Muriel,” Gramps said, as we made our way up to the house. “This is an unexpected treat for you to visit on spring break.”
“It will be nice to get away for a while,” I explained.
“You’ll still be coming in the summer, I hope,” he said. One of the many things I loved about Gramps was that he meant every word he spoke. He really did want me there in the summer, and it was nice to feel wanted.
“Wouldn’t miss it,” I informed. “I’ll be coming a little later this year because of basketball camp.”
It was only around four in the afternoon, but it was never too early for pajamas. No company was expected, and we certainly weren’t going anywhere. Grammy and Gramps settled in to watch the 5 o’clock news, while I read some magazines.
As I breathed in the smell of the house, I looked at both grandparents. Grammy was knitting while she watched TV. Gramps was paying attention most of the time to the program, only to be distracted by spots on his hands. This was home. This is where healing would occur.
“Someone is going to pick you up for church tomorrow,” Grammy told me. “His name is Corey. He’s the son of a woman at the hospital…really nice kid. I can’t take you to services because I need to work.”
“Did you set me up on a date to go to church?” I asked, annoyed.
“It’s not a date,” Grammy corrected. “I just don’t want you to have to sit here with Gramps all morning. I tried to find a girl your age, but they were all unable to take you.”
“I would prefer hanging out with Gramps instead of going to church with a stranger,” I argued.
“After what you said in the car, I would prefer you be around more people,” she explained.
“What did you say in the car?” Gramps asked, uncharacteristically.
Grammy and I just shook our heads, letting Gramps know that we weren’t going to tell him. He huffed.
“Gramps, how about if you go to church with Corey, instead of me, and I’ll tell you what I said,” I offered.
He then shook his head in the same manner that we had. Gramps wasn’t one for making any deals.
During this visit, I had the expectation of stewing in my swamp of grief. There was no need for me to leave the house to accomplish the task.
“Hey!” I exclaimed. “You haven’t made any phone calls since we’ve been home. These plans you made for me had to be done in advance. They had nothing to do with our conversation in the car. Did you really try to find a girl to take me?”
Grammy placed her knitting in the basket by the couch. “I think I’m going to go read a little before bed,” she announced.
The fact that Grammy ignored all the accusations meant they were all true. She bent down to kiss my cheek just like any other night, and escaped through the door to avoid any further questions.
Gramps and I knowingly looked at each other. We had been privy to this kind of manipulation for years. It got me a little fired up.
“She probably only gets caught doing this kind of thing fifty percent of the time,” I figured. “It’s maddening. It’s not right!” That last comment was made loud enough for Grammy to hear.
Gramps looked at me, smiling. “Ya, but you love her,” he said. “Even with all her meddling and subterfuge, you can’t help but love her. It’s just her way.”
“I do,” I admitted, sighing. “Subterfuge? Why do you never use big words around Grammy?”
“You may not have noticed, but I barely use any words around your grandmother,” he replied. “We’ve been married for so long that we know what the other one is thinking. Words are practically obsolete. That’s why it’s fun when you come.”
Gramps and I enjoyed talking about all manner of things that evening. After the house had gone quiet, I realized that my grief was forgotten for a short time. Between being frustrated with my Grammy and having a nice conversation with my Gramps, it wasn’t forefront on my mind.
When morning light arrived, any grief over Jed was eclipsed by the dread of forced socialization that would occur today. When Corey came to the door to pick me up, I smiled and walked with him to the car…where his parents were. The entire trip into town was made in silence. Everyone was equally thrilled by Grammy’s plan.
I tried to identify which church team this family was on. Grammy attended the Lutheran church, but there was also a Baptist church in town. Thousands of Christian denominations existed, and the town only got to choose between two.
Grammy didn’t make me go to church with her during the summers, but it wasn’t hard to get a feel for the lively rivalry between the two churches anyway. They were both situated on the same small street and would often have bazaars or events on the same days.
When a person would switch churches it was cause for celebration. I didn’t understand that. Weren’t they all on the same team, team God? Things were done differently, too. Both churches were very charitable, but the Lutherans just gave, no questions asked. The Baptists gave, and then expected the recipient to listen to their speech or come to their church.
The Baptists could cook and bake circles around the Lutherans. The Lutheran members would get in trouble when they were caught at the Baptist bake sales or pot lucks. Maybe Grammy didn’t pick the Lutheran church. Maybe the Baptist’s knew she was a bad cook. The Lutheran’s had better musicians. They would play their music and sing loudly every Sunday. It seemed they were singing for the church up the street, and not to the heavens.
From the outside, looking in, it reminded me of Friday night, high school football games. Two opponents on the grid iron duking it out, both teams plotting and planning for the win. The coaches likened to the priest or pastor with their own special play books, as the bands stirred the crowds to their feet. I giggled out loud at the scene in my mind.
Corey’s dad parked the car equidistance from both churches. Corey’s mom had a cross around her neck, which helped with my detective work. Jesus was on the cross, so we were going to the Lutheran church for sure. For some reason, the Catholics had Jesus up on all their crosses…poor guy, his most painful moment always on display.
We crossed the street, and I stood there on the sidewalk, not moving. Corey’s parents were almost at the path to the church. Corey stood by my side, even as his father yelled for him to leave me there.
He didn’t listen to his dad. “Are you O.K.?” Corey asked.
“I’ll be O.K.,” I replied. “But, I don’t think I belong here right now. Thank you for the ride. I’m going to walk to the hospital, and get a ride home with my Grammy.”
“I can walk you there,” he offered.
His kindness meant everything in that moment. Tearing up, I said, “No. Go join your family. Have a good Easter.”
The hospital was a couple of miles away, so I turned my back on the busyness of the Easter festivities to start my trek. The music faded with every step, until only the crunch of my steps could be heard. By the time the automatic doors opened at the hospital, the tears had been flowing for quite some time.
When Grammy saw me, she wrapped her arms around me like only she could. I was given a hot meal and a place to rest (a room in her ward was empty). Because this was the geriatric wing, it could be assured that people died in this room, but that no longer bothered me now that death and I had become acquainted.
Grammy walked in and said, “My shift ends at 3 p.m. You should get some rest.”
“I’ll be falling asleep any minute now,” I surmised.
“What made you walk all the way up here?” Grammy asked. “If you had stayed for church, you would be home soon.”
“Standing in front of both those churches,” I answered, “reminded me of how angry I am with God. He took Jed away from me. He made me a freak. I wanted to go into church and yell, demanding answers.”
“That wouldn’t have been a good idea,” Grammy decided. “But I’m so thankful to hear that you feel that way.” She was smiling, looking at me with an undeserved pride.
“I don’t understand what I said that would make you happy,” I stated, confused.
“Well,” Grammy started, as she stroked my hair, “you can’t be mad at someone that doesn’t exist. For you to be mad at God means that you believe he is God. This gives me great hope.”
I rolled over in the bed, facing the wall. She made a great point. It was an irritating point, but it still made sense. She kissed my cheek before leaving, pulling the curtain to surround the bed. I’m not sure the curtain made it all the way around before sleep had rescued me.
Chapter 21- Cliodhna, Queen of the Banshees
After Bruce and I spent the night together, I snuck back to my room before daybreak. Between the talking, making love and showering, neither of us got a wink of sleep.
The bed in my room was whispering to me like a siren. But, I knew if I dared indulge the temptation, I wouldn’t make it down to breakfast…possibly lunch. Instead, I put on fresh clothing and splashed my face with some cool water.
The thought that today might be my first day of training with Clio, entered my mind while I watched the water travel down the drain. It was a depressing thought, to say the least. As breakfast loomed ever closer, I continued to dread the possibility. We would have to discuss my outburst when we first met, and why she didn’t warn my grandmother about her impending death.
Clio was the one woman on the council that had a haughty demeanor about her. As demeanors go, haughty had never been one of my favorites. Luckily, my mood was relaxed and cheerful, because of the night before.
Being lost in thought, I didn’t notice that Deidra had peeked in the doorway. “Are you ready for breakfast, Mom?” she asked.
“Sure, honey,” I answered. “We can go down together.”
All the usual suspects were at breakfast. Tracy was not at the table, but there was never a rhyme or reason to her attendance. The food smelled delicious, and I couldn’t remember the last time that hunger had me so tightly in its grips.
“How did you sleep?” Clio asked me, trying to make idle conversation.
I made a point to avoid the slightest glance in Bruce’s direction. “I didn’t get any sleep last night,” I replied honestly. “I’ll probably take a nap later.”
“You should take a nap right after breakfast, if you can,” Macy said. “Since our training is over, it sure would be nice to get out of here for a while. Besides,” Macy added, thumbing toward Clio, “you’ll need a break before the queen of death.”
Macy wasn’t speaking quietly. She wanted everyone to hear. Clio just smiled, taking the joke like a champ. Her reaction surprised me, as there had been no evidence that Clio possessed a sense of humor.
“That sounds good to me,” I decided. “I’ll go take a nap right after I finish this breakfast.” The plate of food in front of me was more important than a nap. I devoured every morsel. The omelet was the best I’d ever eaten. There were platters on the table of Canadian bacon, muffins and fruit. My churning stomach was satisfied after sampling all the offerings.
There was quite a bit of chatter across the table this morning. I hoped to ask Clio if we were starting training tomorrow, but I didn’t want to interrupt her discussion with Bruce. After wiping my mouth, I quietly made my way to the bedroom for some much needed rest.
My eyes didn’t open until a little after noon. It was a four-hour respite that felt like it lasted just minutes. If it was possible, I would’ve gladly slept ano
ther four hours. The fact that my blinking was as slow as possible, without being asleep, was proof that more shut-eye was needed.
I fought the urge to go back to sleep, barely winning. The shower helped to wash away the cobwebs. If we were planning on going into town, a nicer outfit would be required. Although, when I thought about what Macy had planned, I envisioned a bar. Sure enough, that’s where we were just a few hours later.
“It’s kind of early for a bar, isn’t it?” I pointed out.
Macy looked at me like I was crazy, not bothering to actually reply to my question. She sat down at a table where she ordered two beers. It didn’t take long for the bar to fill with people. The jukebox was getting fed quarters regularly, pool tables were full and arm-wrestling started in one corner of the bar.
“Try to figure out who will win the next match over there in the corner,” Macy said.
“Well, that one guy looks way more muscular,” I decided.
“No, not like that,” Macy instructed, grinning. “See if you can see their hue.”
“Oh,” I said.
I stared at the two men in the corner. They hadn’t sat down yet. They were talking trash and sizing each other up…waiting for everyone to make their bets. I stared at both of them, trying to envision the winner. To my surprise, there was a purple hue present, but it surrounded both of them.
“I must not be doing this right,” I said to Macy. “I can see a purple hue around both of them.”
“Which one is brighter?” she asked, smiling.
“Believe it or not, it’s the smaller guy who has the brighter hue,” I answered. “That doesn’t make sense.”
Macy touched my hand. “It makes sense if you take a moment to focus on the circumstances.”
There was no way to know where Macy was trying to guide me, but as the men were still puffing out their chests around the challenge table, twenty feet away, I closed my eyes to concentrate. It took a moment before a revealing vision came upon me. The smaller guy was splitting a pile of money with the larger guy at the end of the night. They must be running some kind of a scam.