Forgiveness Road

by Mandy Mikulencak

  Grandmother appeared to sink into the hospital bed so deeply that the top sheet and blanket rested evenly on the mattress. A large plastic tube snaked into her mouth and distorted her face. Still, Cissy saw her as she was before their trip began, smartly dressed in a fine suit and maybe a summer hat, her white hair just perfect, and her delicate hands wrapped in proper white gloves. Even wearing her sternest face, Grandmother could make Cissy feel loved in the most complete and perfect way.

  Cissy pulled up a chair and put her arm through the metal railing so it rested right alongside Grandmother’s, their forearms touching. She placed her head against the railing even though the metal was ice cold.

  “I need you to get well, Grandmother. I promise I can take care of you. I promise I’ll learn how to drive and I’ll figure out where we need to go. I know I can do it if you believe in me.”

  She whispered her wishes aloud, thinking God would be sure to hear and grant them.

  The nurse stopped in to check on Grandmother’s tubes and wires, so Cissy took the opportunity to ask her a burning question. She needed to know whether a person in a coma could hear the people in the room talking.

  “Some people believe that’s so,” she said, but paid more attention to her busywork than Cissy’s yearning.

  “What do you believe?” Cissy asked.

  She stopped what she was doing and looked her straight in the eyes. “I believe she can hear you, sweetie.”

  The nurse’s kindness set off the sorrow Cissy had somehow contained until now. She stood to accept the embrace the nurse offered. Her shoulder soon grew wet from Cissy’s tears, but she refused to let go. Every time Cissy lessened her hold, the nurse’s grasp grew even tighter. Cissy’s cries echoed throughout the quiet ward, but it did no good to try to suffocate the grieving that had already begun.

  When the embrace ended, Cissy’s body couldn’t stand on its own anymore. Her leaden arms and legs ached, and the weight of her head threatened to topple her. She said she had to make a phone call and that she’d be back after resting a spell in the waiting room downstairs. Cissy kissed her grandmother’s forehead and whispered that she would be nearby.

  She didn’t know where else to go, so headed back down to the ER. Cissy decided it was too early to be making phone calls, so she curled up across four armless chairs, folding her arms beneath her chest to stay warm. Her face pressed into the fake leather of the chair and she drifted off. She couldn’t remember a night’s sleep when she didn’t have nightmares or dreams that needed some kind of pondering. Cissy had always felt she lived in two different worlds and never got a chance to sleep in either. Yet, when she woke the next day, she had no recollection of the hours that had passed. Unless someone had moved the hands on the clock as a joke, Cissy had slept for close to five hours. If her full bladder hadn’t demanded attention, she might have slept the day away.

  After peeing, she stood before the mirror in the hospital restroom that reflected back someone unrecognizable. Black mascara smudges formed a raccoon mask around her bloodshot eyes. Her tangled hair stood out at all angles. She grabbed a paper towel and wet it with liquid soap. The soap stung her eyes and it took some serious scrubbing, but the makeup Rita had applied was finally just a memory. There wasn’t an easy fix for the hair, though. All she could do was wet it and work her fingers through the tangles until the squirrel’s nest lay down a bit.

  Somewhere in the early morning, a different nurse had shown up to staff the admissions desk. Cissy told her a bit of her story and asked to borrow some change for the pay phone. She said Cissy could use the phone at her desk if she was quick about it.

  She dialed the number and waited several rings before she heard a familiar voice.

  “Lily, it’s me.”

  “Cissy! We’ve missed you so much!” Lily’s euphoria cut through the sadness of the previous night and day, filling Cissy with a long-lost happiness.

  “I’ve missed you all, too,” she said.

  “Are you coming home? I have so much to tell you about,” Lily said, not bothering to breathe between sentences. “I’m already reading books that high school classes are reading. And I remember to look up each word I don’t know in the dictionary as you told me.”

  Cissy smiled at their former reading lessons. Lily had taken to books and words in the same way Cissy had, and they shared endless hours reading to each other. They once vowed to be famous writers one day so they could spread joy to young readers like themselves.

  “Is Jessie reading with you?” Cissy asked.

  “Aw, you know Jessie. She’d rather be catching crawdads than open a book, but I’m working on her.”

  In the background Cissy heard her mama insisting that Lily divulge who was on the phone. Lily must have put her hand over the mouthpiece because her answer back was muffled.

  “But I’m not finished talking to her!” Lily wailed. Cissy imagined a struggle over the phone in their front hallway.

  “Cissy? Cissy?” Lily yelled into the phone.

  “Yes, I’m here,” she yelled back.

  “I believe you.”

  Cissy didn’t have time to sit with the enormity of Lily’s declaration because their mama had yanked away the phone and told Lily to go sit in her room.

  “I spoke with your grandmother yesterday and she told me where you are. I’m leaving now and will be there soon. Everything will be okay.”

  Cissy could tell her mama was trying to hold herself together but wasn’t doing a very good job of it.

  The concern and gentleness in her voice made Cissy’s stomach flip-flop. The day Cissy killed her daddy, her mama’s anger and hurt had risen up like a tornado that threatened to destroy them all. Sometimes, in the deepest part of night, Cissy convinced herself her mama was lost to her for good. She didn’t know what to think of the long-distance conversation they were now having. And she wondered why Grandmother had called Mama yesterday. Did she know she was getting worse?

  “Let me speak to your grandmother,” her mama said.

  “That’s why I’m calling. Grandmother fell and hit her head and we’re at the hospital right now. The doctor says she had a stroke.”

  When her mama didn’t answer, Cissy thought the line had gone dead.

  “Mama? You still there?”

  “Yes, Cissy. I’m here. How is she?” If a person could hear panic, that’s what came across the telephone wires.

  Cissy tried to explain what the doctor and nurses had said, but Mama had more questions than Cissy had answers. When she asked for the address and phone number of the hospital, Cissy handed the phone to the nurse and asked her to relay that information. When Cissy got back on the line, Mama was all business and no crying. She said she’d be there by evening and it’d all be fine.

  “Mama? I’ve been meaning to tell you some things.”

  “Now’s not the time to catch up,” she said, and Cissy’s heart sank. “I’ll see you soon and then we can talk. I promise. Don’t worry about anything.”

  Mama didn’t ask about her well-being, but with her own mama dying, there probably wasn’t room in her brain for much else to worry about. She never mentioned Cissy leaving the mental hospital or whether the law had been looking for them. Her words held no sharpness or bite. Only after Cissy hung up did she realize how frightened she’d been to make that call. She wondered if her mama had forgiven her.

  Cissy also wondered if she and her mama would be staying at the Howard Johnson together while Grandmother recuperated in the hospital. Thinking about that made her sick to her stomach, so she put it out of her mind. She needed food something fierce. She hadn’t eaten since the popcorn at the movies the day before and felt close to passing out. Still, she had one more thing to do first.

  “Ma’am, may I make another call? It’s local.”

  The nurse nodded, too busy with her paperwork to care.

  “Do you have a phone book?” Cissy asked.

  She looked irritated at the interruption, but she reached for the b
ottom drawer of a file cabinet and fished it out. Cissy called the café next to the motel because Rita would have already clocked in for the breakfast shift. One of the other waitresses said Rita had called in sick. She suggested Cissy call the main motel number and ask to be connected to Daryl’s room.

  The phone rang so many times Cissy figured Rita was too ill to pick up. Or hungover from all the drinks she’d had at Tootsie’s. When she mumbled a grouchy “What do you want?” into the phone, Cissy’s heart lifted.

  “It’s me, Cissy. Grandmother’s very sick. We’re at the hospital.”

  Over the line, Cissy could hear her thrashing about, trying to roust herself from sleep and out from under the covers.

  “Oh, sugar, I’m so sorry,” she said. Her weak voice sounded something other than hungover, and Cissy felt ashamed she’d assumed Rita couldn’t really be sick.

  “Could you come sit with me at the hospital? I’m scared.” Cissy figured it was no point in putting up a brave front for Rita. She’d never been so scared and the thought of facing her mama alone crippled her.

  When Rita didn’t answer right away, Cissy’s face burned hot, thinking she’d stepped over a line.

  “Let me get ready and I can be there in an hour. Daryl hid the keys to my car so I’ll have to take the bus or a cab,” she said, still not sounding like herself. “Could I bring you anything?”

  Cissy asked her to fetch a change of clothes from the room. Then, without hesitation, she told her about Grandmother’s money hidden in the air-conditioning vent. She said she needed some cash and asked if Rita would bring $50. Cissy told her to grab some of the money for her cab fare as well. At this point, Rita was all Cissy had and if she couldn’t trust her, she couldn’t trust anyone.

  While Cissy waited for Rita, she decided to sit with Grandmother a spell if they’d let her. By the time she returned to the ICU, a different nurse was on duty. Cissy wished the kind woman who’d hugged her so sweetly the night before was still working. She regretted not asking her name.

  Grandmother looked exactly the same, her chest moving only because a machine willed it so. Cissy placed her palm on her hot forehead, then ran her fingers along Grandmother’s arm, which was tethered to a tube and bag full of clear liquid. She moved to the foot of the bed and massaged Grandmother’s feet through the thick thermal blanket. Cissy relayed that her mama was on the way and wondered what Grandmother’s response would be if she were awake.

  “I know I have to go back to the hospital in Meridian.” Cissy moved back to the side of the bed so she could stroke the frail arm again. “I’ll be okay, Grandmother. And I don’t think you’ll get in trouble given how sick you are.”

  She didn’t know that she’d be okay and she definitely didn’t know Grandmother wouldn’t get in trouble, but she hoped saying those things aloud over and over again and with some confidence would make them so. Grandmother and Mama often stated things with such surety no one would dare question them. Perhaps it was a trait Cissy had inherited as well.

  After an hour had passed, Cissy walked back down to the ER, where she’d asked Rita to meet her. She scanned the room, looking for her familiar face, but she hadn’t arrived. When Cissy turned to walk back to the elevator, a woman whose swollen purple face resembled a Halloween mask called out her name. Her stomach rose into her throat when she recognized Rita’s voice coming from the mask. With unsure legs, Cissy dropped to the floor.

  “Are you all right?” Rita bent down to help her up. “Here. Sit down.”

  She couldn’t find the words to match the horror in her thoughts. Cissy reached for Rita’s face and she flinched.

  “Don’t touch,” Rita whispered. “It hurts.”

  Furious tears spilled from Cissy’s eyes at the damage Daryl had done to her beautiful friend. Rita said he’d been so angry with her for going to Tootsie’s and staying out late, he didn’t care about his earlier promise not to hit her where it would show.

  “Did you call the police?”

  “Oh, honey, that’d be the last thing I’d do. He said he’d kill me if I did and he’s capable of it. I half thought I’d meet my maker this very morning.”

  Cissy squeezed her hand and they sat together without speaking. Her jaw ached from her clenched teeth. She felt useless in helping Grandmother or Rita. Nothing made sense in her world and God was nowhere to be found. Cissy was convinced more and more that she had dreamt up a God who looked like Julie Andrews, who said the exact right things Cissy needed to hear, over and over again.

  “Oh, I forgot. Here’s your change of clothes.” Rita handed her a paper sack. “And here’s your money.”

  She reached into her purse and handed several bills to Cissy, which she rolled up without counting and slipped into her back pocket.

  “Thanks.”

  “I also brought a couple of your notebooks. I thought they might make you feel better,” Rita said. “I brought your favorite pen, too. I know you like things a certain way.”

  Rita winced when Cissy hugged her, so Cissy let go reluctantly. She wished she had words to express how much she loved Rita in that instance.

  “You didn’t say your Grandmother had that much money,” Rita said, breaking the silence. She fished for an explanation to something Cissy didn’t know she needed to explain.

  “Yeah, I suspect she has a lot more than that. It’s what she could get on short notice when she left Biloxi to bust me out of the hospital.”

  Another person might have worried that Rita would steal Grandmother’s money and hit the road, but Cissy had a good feeling about her friend. She believed the rest of the cash was still safe in the motel room.

  “She must really love you,” Rita said. “I mean, to have left her home and family to be with you.”

  “Yep,” Cissy said. “I’m pretty lucky. But I better go get dressed now. I’ll be in the restroom down the hall.”

  She stayed in the restroom longer than necessary, leaning over the sink breathing through the anger that rose in her against Daryl. She pictured him punching Rita with all his might, as if he were hitting another guy. Even though she closed her eyes, the pictures wouldn’t stop coming. His fist colliding with her perfect porcelain face, shattering its beauty until she no longer looked like Rita. Cissy slipped out of the blouse and skirt she’d worn the night before and stuffed them into the trash can. She didn’t want a reminder of the day Grandmother had needed her most and she wasn’t there.

  Rita had brought a pair of white pants, which were Cissy’s, and an orange and white striped T-shirt that must have been hers. She’d told Cissy last week it was downright stupid that redheads felt they couldn’t wear orange and that she’d grown nauseated by the amount of pink in Cissy’s wardrobe. She smiled to think Rita would say “I told you so” when she saw her in the orange shirt.

  Cissy jumped when someone pounded on the bathroom door. She opened it quickly to find Rita, breathless and panicked.

  “It’s your grandmother. The nurse came looking for you.” She grabbed Cissy’s hand, dragging her down the hall to the elevator. Cissy punched the up button over and over until Rita pushed her hand back and softly said, “Enough.” The elevator ride seemed endless. They both jumped when the bell dinged to tell them they’d arrived at the fifth floor ICU.

  Cissy ran past the nurses’ station and into Grandmother’s room, Rita a step behind. The day-shift nurse looked up and shook her head from side to side, a weak, apologetic smile pasted to her face that Cissy wanted to slap right off. She said nothing as she unhooked the wires and tubes that had helped Grandmother cling to life. Cissy wondered why the nurse wouldn’t speak it aloud, why she wouldn’t say Grandmother was gone.

  “Can you take the tube out of her mouth?” Cissy begged.

  The nurse nodded and stood between her and the hospital bed so Cissy couldn’t see her remove it. A rush of air escaped from Grandmother’s lungs, startling Cissy. Rita held her shoulders and cried as deeply as Cissy did. The nurse put down the metal railing and step
ped back to let them get closer.

  Cissy lowered herself onto Grandmother’s chest so that she could nuzzle into her neck. She smelled of warm life, which made Cissy doubt she’d left at all. In that moment, Cissy hated God. If She’d been real, She would have saved the one person who loved Cissy when no one else would. She’d never felt such heartache and wondered how anyone survived the death of someone they loved. Her own grief gave way to the knowing she’d ignored for so long. She’d caused her mama this exact kind of heartache. And that in speaking the truth, Cissy had also destroyed her mama’s ability to remember the good in her daddy. She’d taken much more than his life.

  Rita bent down next to Cissy so that they almost covered Grandmother’s small frame. Their tears fell over her like rain showers to the parched earth. Grandmother’s passing split Cissy’s heart open; wide enough that she could cry for her daddy, too. She’d taken a life to protect two other lives, but she’d told herself his death didn’t matter. It’s as if Grandmother’s lifeless body became the vessel to hold all the sadness and regret Cissy had locked away to protect herself. Feeling it now didn’t destroy her as she feared it would. She could let him go. She had to let both her grandmother and her unborn baby go as well.

  Cissy looked up to see God standing near the foot of the bed.

  “Rita, could I have a minute with Grandmother alone?” Cissy asked.

  Rita kissed her cheek and retreated to the nurses’ station.

  “I’m sorry about your grandmother,” God said.

  “I know you’re not real,” Cissy said, wiping her wet face with the edge of her T-shirt. “I mean, I think God is real. But I think you’re just here to help me find my way, like Dr. Guttman said.”

  “Cissy, your Grandmother will always be with you,” She said. “You can talk to her whenever you want, just the way you talked to me.”

  Cissy nodded and closed her eyes. Grandmother had gone on from her earthly body and there was no need to mourn for it. Cissy wanted to believe Grandmother was as stunningly bright as the sun, an angel in the heavens, wings spread wide and strong. Picturing her like that was the only way she could bear to turn her back.