Eddie scratched his belly. “Pop, can you describe where you’re calling from? What’s around you?”
“Nothing, that’s just it. No bed, no—wait. There’s a dish here. And some little girl behind it.”
He was making some progress.
“Did that little girl hand you the phone?”
“What phone?”
“The one you’re using to talk to me right now.”
His father’s voice was replaced by a scuffle, a scratching. Eddie pictured him taking the phone away from his ear, examining it as if he were holding a foreign object in his hand.
“Hey!” He shouted, hoping he’d be heard. “Pop?”
“What?”
He sounded so far away. “Listen, I’m coming in later today. I’m going to try and get Tina there, too.”
There was a long pause on the other end, and then, as if he were surrounded by spies, his father said, “—get me out of here.”
“We’re trying—”
“You’re. Not. Trying.”
Eddie knew that snide tone.
“You and your mother are in cahoots,” Frank said. “You’re letting her run around all over town.”
“Who’s running around all over town?”
Agitation, disappointment, perhaps even a little grief punctuated the sigh on the other end. “Your mother. They’re making me stay here, no bed, putting me through terrible tortures—did you know what they’re calling this? Rehab.”
“Now, Pop—”
“No, you look here. They stand me up in a line and I’m in a goddamn cage and you know what they’re getting ready to do?”
“You’re in a cage?”
“They’re getting us all ready for the firing squad. Now you get your ass down here right now and spring me.”
By that point, Eddie knew he had to find a way to bring him home, but where the hell was that anymore?
“—and do something right for the first time in your life, boy.”
Eddie wiped his face with his hand, opened his eyes wide, and yawned.
“Yeah, right, okay. You go take a nap. Tina and I’ll be there later in the day.” He hung up.
The clouds moved rapidly over the surf, but Eddie knew it was poised to be one of those rare days out here in la-la land, when the gray hovers close to the pavements and people begin complaining because they haven’t seen a ray of sunshine for maybe a couple hours and it messes with their mood.
Well, his mood was skewed for the entire fucking day, so it could rain, hell, it could even snow for all he cared. He had no shoot planned for today, anyway, and only one more scene to wrap before he could start editing. A shower would feel great right about now.
twenty four
People always say I have a charming smile. If I keep smiling I can walk right out of here. Not in this cage, though. On my own two feet.
“Did you have a good nap, Frank?”
I’m in bed. Oh, thank God I’m not in that cage. Got to stop her from putting me back in there.
“Ready for your pills?” She’s all business, this one. Yeah, sure, they all smile, but this one uses it as a calling card to get you to swallow those pills, and then she puts you in that cage and forgets about you.
“Good. You swallowed them all. Would you like to get out of bed now?”
I can wait her out.
“Are you still tired? You want to lie back down until supper? There.”
She tucks me in, and then she’s gone.
This won’t be so hard.
Just one arm on this rail, the other on the other one and . . . push!
Jesus, every thing’s so heavy.
I just have to get in the right spot, here—hold, and—PUSH. There, sitting up. I’m a little dizzy; blood must have rushed to my feet.
One leg over, that’s it. Now the other. I can do this. I can get out of here by myself.
“Mr. Lillo! I see you’re stretching a little. Monsignor Fréapané.”
Smile, return the handshake.
“Can you get me out of here, Monsignor?”
“Well, I suppose I can call a nurse—”
“No, no nurses. They’re all in on it.”
“In on what, Mr. Lillo?”
“The plot, that’s what. See, they act all nice, help you out, but the whole time, they’re plotting to line me up with the rest of them.”
Why is he patting my knee?
“Stop that right now! I don’t go that way. You’re supposed to be a priest, for chrissake. A man of God.”
Look at him, acting so surprised. He soon got away from me, over there by the door, that little fruit hiding behind those robes.
How did I let him pick me up? Ma said not to hitchhike, and I know she’s right, but how else am I going to get to Harrisburg? There aren’t any art lessons in Lebanon. I got to get a car. These art lessons are killing me. Depending on people for a ride, but you’d think getting into a priest’s car would be a safe bet.
“Mr. Lillo, you’re not to get out of bed by yourself.”
“Don’t you tell me what I can and can’t do. Try telling yourself that, you little purple fruitcake. Don’t touch me again, and just drop me off at the next block, I’ll walk it from there.” Now why is she back in here? No, do not put me in that cage.
“Mr. Lillo, please calm down. The monsignor came in to pray with you—”
“Pray, shit, he wanted my cock!”
“They get like this sometimes, Monsignor, please don’t take it personally.”
“Yeah, defending him? He told me I look like a movie star and then he put his hand on my knee. Sure, go ahead and shake your head like that, you picked me up because you thought I’d do a little tango in the back seat with you, didn’t you? Look at him taking off. Fruit.”
I am so tired. It’s only a few more miles to Harrisburg, and the class is already paid for. I think I’ll just lie down over there under that bush, take a little nap, and I’ll be able to think better when I wake up.
twenty five
“You are Mr. Lillo’s granddaughter?” A nurse approached Tina as she and the baby made their way down the hall toward Grandpa’s room. Joshua pulled at her hair, amusing himself as he enjoyed the free ride on her back. The nurse began making eyes and cooing at him already.
Tina’s stomach churned even more than when she had to maneuver the freeway. She tried to keep her thoughts focused on the present moment, but it was like containing a wild bronco. A succession of worries seized her, increasing her heartbeat, making her thirsty and dizzy.
Grandpa had another stroke.
Grandpa fled and they don’t know where he is.
Grandpa had attacked someone and now was in lockdown.
Eddie came in the middle of the night and kidnapped Grandpa.
Grandpa had a heart attack.
The apartment. She had an afternoon appointment to see another apartment.
Joshua needed day care. What next? Employment applications.
“You look a little pale, dear. Here, why don’t you have a seat? May I?” The nurse unbuckled Joshua and lifted him from the backpack. The baby kicked his little mighty legs and squealed in delight as if thanking her for springing him.
That’s what she had to do: she had to get Grandpa out of there. They’d get him better, and when the medications kicked in, he’d have some of his mind back and he could move in with her and Joshua; that’s why she needed three bedrooms.
“Dear, would you like some water?”
“Yes, I think I need some.”
The nurse handed the baby back to her. “Oh, my, you can’t be hungry again?” He pulled at her t-shirt and began rooting for her. She stuck her finger in his mouth, which he happily sucked until the nurse came back and handed her a small plastic cup filled with water. Joshua watched her downing the water and burst into a screech the likes of which she had never before heard.
“Joshua! Shhh, there are other people in here, ya know,” she said.
But the baby con
tinued to screech.
“He wants mommy,” the nurse said, the way a kindly mother points out the obvious.
Tina unhooked her bra cushion. “I fed him before we left, I honestly don’t know if I have anything—” but the baby latched on and sucked greedily, his body relaxing into hers, his eyes fluttering in satisfaction.
The nurse placed her hand on Tina’s arm. “Honey, babies feel everything.” She was rubbing Joshua’s leg, which now hung limp, as he was drunk with the comfort of his mother. “This is a trying time for you and while this little guy may not know exactly everything that’s happening, he feels your tension. He knows something’s up or he wouldn’t be wanting you so close to his last feeding.” She held his two legs, like meaty drumsticks, in her capable hands. “He’s a sturdy child, going to need more than mother’s milk soon.”
A silence fell between them, though the activity on the floor continued in full swing; nurses checking computers perched atop mobile carts, a white-coated young woman carrying test tubes of drawn blood in a crate, clusters of doctors entering and exiting patient rooms, and family members—some smiling, others crying, but all with a look in their eyes like something had been lost and they were trying to find it.
“Your grandfather has developed a high fever, dear.”
“Does he have an infection?”
“We’re conducting tests.”
She knew that was double-speak for “yes.” Tina rose, still carrying Joshua close to her breast. He wasn’t as light as he had been a mere month ago, but she was still able to cradle him and carry the backpack on her other shoulder.
“I’d like to see him.”
“Of course, but you’ll need to take precautions. Let me get you and the baby masks.” She scuttled into a supply closet and produced the infamous SARS masks. Joshua’s covered his entire face. He tried pulling it off, but Tina played peek-a-boo with him, dropping the mask to his nose, then back up to his eyes until he was giggling.
The nurse strongly suggested Tina carry the baby in the pack on her back so he would have a permanent spot, rather than laying him on the bed, or worse, on the floor. She helped place him on her back, and he laid his head between her shoulders.
“You know the drill. Wash your hands frequently and try not to touch the patch on your grandfather’s arm.”
They proceeded down the hall toward Grandpa’s room. Tina wanted to hold her breath, even with the mask over her mouth, but it wasn’t because she was afraid of getting whatever it was Grandpa had now contracted. If she held her breath then maybe life would slow down a little, giving her time to process the last week, helping her formulate a direction, a plan.
It was all on her now. The reality felt like a blow to the temple, but here she was, standing before Grandpa’s room, whose name was graced with an orange dot and now the word, “Contagious.” The orange dot, she knew, meant at risk of falling.
The nurse placed a mask over her mouth, her large, wet brown eyes the only visible part of her Tina could read. “Remember, try not to touch anything.”
“What does Grandpa have?” She hated the sound of her own voice—weak, girly.
“An infection but we won’t know exactly until we’ve run the tests. We’re giving him antibiotics, and they should take care of it in a day or so, but right now he’s terribly sick. It’s a change from the other day. I just want you to be prepared.”
Grandpa’s usual olive-skinned pallor bore a touch of pink on his high cheekbones, but not today. As he lay there an oxygen tube snaked across his face like a transparent worm. Tina held back her tears. He was gray, the color of the slip she used to throw in her twelfth grade sculpture class. His mouth was wide open.
“He looks parched,” she said, but when she turned around, a new nurse stood beside her, a young man with dreadlocks, honey-colored skin, and strikingly green eyes, pale like a gemstone.
“We can fix that,” and he promptly opened a drawer, producing a few sponge swabs on a stick. He wet them and touched them to Grandpa’s lips.
Grandpa’s breath came in short bursts; he appeared to be fighting for each one.
Tina lifted the backpack off and gently placed it on the floor, careful to position Joshua’s hands away from any contact. How lucky that he had turned out to be the sort of baby who enjoyed his sleep, even if he were jostled about.
She approached Grandpa, who snorted and began to hack. His face contorted in pain as if every cell of his body were on fire.
“I’m not coming.” His voice rose barely above a whisper.
“He’s not awake,” the nurse said. He checked some tubing leading from an I.V. “Did you want me to draw that blind? Might keep the papoose from waking too soon.”
Tina sat beside Grandpa and tried to make some sense of his muttering.
“They told me he’s been lethargic for about a day now, but he’s been given a regular dose of antibiotic and you should see some recovery in the next twenty-four hours.”
The crook of Grandpa’s arm sported a red bubble that could be mistaken for a mosquito bite. Tina noticed a red dot in the same place yesterday, but when she had asked, she was told it was an infected ingrown hair.
She knew a staph infection when she saw one, but she also knew the nursing staff followed a regular course of action: order cultures and blood work, administer antibiotics to quell any serious spreading of the infection. This could run its course or kill its host.
“If you need anything, miss, my name is James. I’ll be on duty until eleven.”
“Double shifting?”
James broke into a wide smile. “Yes. Helps pay the bills.”
Tina watched Grandpa’s chest heave up and down, an even flow of breath. But he did not rest the frown on his face.
Joshua slept like an angel beside her.
She wanted to close her eyes, wanted to fall into the deep arms of a long sleep, and maybe when this was all over, she would awaken to find that Grandpa had snapped out of it and that Eddie had offered them all a place to live. Instead, she watched Grandpa as he slept, perhaps with too much intensity because when he awoke, startled, he cried out, “I told you I wasn’t coming!”
Tina hopped to her feet to claim Joshua, wrenched from his nap by Grandpa’s exhortation.
“Shh, shh, baby boy. Grandpa’s waking up from his nap, too, that’s all. Shh . . .” She bounced the baby on her chest and then realized Grandpa may not recognize them.
He blinked like a swimmer coming up from the depths, shifting in his bed. Alarms, connected to an orange blinking light outside his door in the hallway, went off.
James raced into the room to a scene where Tina was trying to keep Grandpa in bed, dodging his punch drunk attempts to block her, and nearly knocking Joshua out of her arm. The baby cried in time with Frank’s panicked flailing.
“Mr. Lillo!” James called, but Tina knew that look. Grandpa was somewhere else. Somewhere they would never reach.
James managed to stick the needle in Grandpa’s buttocks and within a few seconds the old man sighed, his face still wearing a frown, and sank back into bed.
“Was he in the war?” James asked. He fluffed the pillow behind Grandpa’s head and arranged him in a more comfortable position before covering him.
“No. I have no idea what he’s saying.” She couldn’t stop the sobs from wracking her body, finding solace in rubbing the top of Joshua’s smooth baby head. He had calmed under his mother’s touch.
“Miss, I see this all the time. The infection causes him to go deeper into his thoughts. He does not know right now what is real and what is not.”
She processed that for a minute, accepted the tissue from him, and blew her nose.
“You know what, James? Neither do I.”
twenty six
She’s like a drink of water, my Mamie. And she’s agreed to marry me? Poor Dago like me?
Look at her, the spread she brings to these painting days. I told her art takes a while, it’s not like you can dash it out in a day. I h
ave a couple more weeks until I have to show them something, but I really want to complete this piece whiles everything is still full scale, the leaves so brilliant against that china blue sky . . .
Her hand feels so small against my back, like a little bird all fluttery, some would say, jittery. She’s drumming her fingers on my shirt, can’t stay still.
“I’m looking at the color of that sky, trying to figure out how much green I have to mix in to bring out its intensity. See how brilliant it is over here and then that haze over there covers it up? I want to capture that.”
She’s looking at me like maybe I’ve lost my mind.
She’s walking away from me toward that blanket where two other people are sitting.
Wait a minute. I know them.
Charlie’s handing me a glass of Papa’s wine. I thought I’d never see him again.
“Didn’t you just ship out?”
He nose-kisses Mary, pats her swollen belly, then lights a Camel.
“Got one of those for me?”
Love the way that smoke draws back into my throat, everything starts revving up, like a thousand electric currents running through my body, makes me feel alive. I should tell him that one day it’s going to stop his heart. It’s a cruel irony, smoking—makes you live for the next one, until it kills you.
Why spoil a perfectly good picnic? Let’s all live it up.
I let my hand reach a little higher when I slip my arm around Mamie’s waist. I love the way her breast cups so perfectly into my hand. Won’t be long now, a few months? I’ll get to see all of her, get inside of her . . .
“Will you pose for me?”
She slaps me. I guess I deserve that. But I see that twinkle in her eye. She likes the idea.
Charlie bites off a piece of sandwich and chews with his mouth open. He’s got those bad sinuses. He can’t stop grinning.
Mary’s rubbing her swollen belly, smiling that sheepish grin of hers, letting Charlie kiss her all over: her neck, her ears, her lips. Well, they are married.
“That sun is so bright, it’s way up in the sky. I better mix up the blue before I lose the afternoon. It’s all I need, the china blue . . .”
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