by Andre Fenton
“Lets do another.”
“You should get some rest,” Clay said firmly. “This is still new to both of us. I don’t want to overdo it.”
“You always take things slow,” I said with a sigh.
“No. I always take things safe.”
I knew he was right. “Do you really think it’ll work?” I asked.
“It’s hard to say. Definitely risky to say the least.” Clay walked towards the lake and I followed.
“That…doesn’t say much.”
“No. But I want to be honest with you.”
“Have faith,” I replied.
“I thought you and your grandfather didn’t believe in that kind of thing.”
“I’m talking about faith in ourselves, fool,” I said as my phone buzzed. It was a text from Tia.
Tia: Earth to Anna. Where have you been? Can you answer me, please? You were only at school twice this week.
I put my phone back in my pocket.
“Was that Tia?”
I nodded.
“Aren’t you going to reply?”
“I will later.”
“She’s just checking on you, Anna. She’s a good friend.”
“I know, I know,” I said. “Can we just do one more? My head doesn’t hurt as much as it did. I just want to see if this works for sure.”
I was lying; my head felt like it was on fire.
“We’re done for the night. Get some sleep. Maybe we can pick this up in the morning. Key word is maybe. Depending on how you feel.”
“You’re the worst.” I smiled and looked away.
“You know that isn’t true.”
“I know.” When I looked back he was already gone. “That’s no better than ghosting, man.”
I woke up the next morning to the smell of bacon wafting from the kitchen, so I made my way down and found Mom and Nan sitting at the dining room table.
Mom didn’t say a word to me, but I grabbed a plate and decided to eat on the front porch. I wanted to keep trying this new method with Clay, but we couldn’t do it with people around. Maybe we could drive somewhere a little ways out of town. Before I could continue that thought, I heard the front door open.
“Anna,” said Mom. “I need to talk to you.”
I sighed. I had been wondering when Mom was going to give me another one of her “stay in school” talks. I thought she was done with that. Ever since we had our argument, we’d been avoiding each other like the plague. I knew she was hurt by what I had said, but I wasn’t backing down. I had a point that she didn’t want to see. I wasn’t going to allow her to invalidate my own feelings, because they were anything but invalid. Most days were me just coming inside and heading straight to my room, or me leaving the house and hitting the road. But I sat there and listened to what she had to say.
“Listen, the school called three times this week saying you skipped class.” She gave me a hard look, but I remained silent. She rubbed her eyes. “Don’t think we’re not going to talk about this. But right now, I need your help with something. I gotta head back to Halifax and pick up some supplies from my classroom. It looks like I’ll have to do a lot of my grading and teaching online for now.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning I need you to watch your grandmother while I’m gone.”
My eyes widened and everything inside felt kind of fuzzy. “What? Mom, you can’t be—”
“Anna, I need you to do this one thing for me.”
“Why can’t Ben and Lillian do it?”
“They left for a trip to Lunenburg two days ago. While you went on a road trip, alone.” Mom raised an eyebrow. “Have you spoken to Tia lately?”
“No. I’ve been busy.”
“Doing what?”
“Can we stop? I don’t know if I can do this. I don’t know if I can look after her. It makes me anxious.”
I wanted Nan back, but being a stranger to her, that was the worst feeling in the world. She was a shell of herself and if I was being honest, it scared the shit out of me. I didn’t know how to interact with her. How could I pretend that we didn’t have history? In a way, it felt like I’d already lost Nan. The only thing I wanted to do was try to find a way to bring her back.
“I understand,” Mom said. “I do. But I promise, it won’t be so bad. You’ve barely spoken to her since you’ve been here. I know what happened on our first day spooked you, and it’s an awful thing to go through. But your grandmother still has fight in her, and you can’t let her go. Not yet.”
I wasn’t letting her go; I was doing the exact opposite. If only she knew.
“I need help,” Mom continued. “I need a co-pilot for this, and you’re it.” She sat beside me. Mom and I had been pretty distant since our fight. I knew she was struggling to balance everything, and it was no easy task. If I said no it would leave her stuck here, unable to do any of the grading she needed to finish. It was lose–lose.
“Fine,” I replied. “I can do it.”
“I know you can. But please, if you need anything, text me or Tia’s parents, okay?”
I nodded. “Okay.”
Maybe it wouldn’t be as bad as I thought. I at least had to attempt to convince myself that it wouldn’t be.
Later that day I helped Mom clear out stuff from the back of her minivan; it was mostly just supplies she hadn’t had the chance to bring inside yet.
“You got everything you need?” Mom asked when we were done.
“You’re the one going on the trip,” I replied.
“Sorry. I’m just nervous.” She closed the trunk. “Are you sure you’re going to be all right doing this?”
I wasn’t, but I knew there was no one else.
“Mom, I’ll be fine. It’s…whatever. I’ll get over it. You should hit the road.”
“The schedule is on the kitchen table. Take care.” She gave me an awkward side hug. I gave her one back. Moms are still moms even if you get in an argument once in a while.
And just like that, she got in the van and I watched her drive off.
I went inside and checked the schedule.
6pm – dinner + meds
8pm – bath
9pm – TV
It didn’t seem too difficult, and Mom was going to be back in the morning. I set reminders in my phone in case I lost track of time. I could see Nan sitting in front of the TV in the next room. When I saw her it felt like my heart was on fire. I began feeling anxious and wasn’t sure how to approach her, so I ended up circling the kitchen only to open and close drawers. I wasn’t the best at managing stress.
“Hey, you in the kitchen!” Nan’s voice called from the living room. “I can hear you pacing in here. You might as well pull up a seat.”
I slowly made my way into the living room.
Nan looked at me. “Miss, sorry, but have we met before? I don’t recall.”
“It’s Anna,” I replied shyly. “Yes, we’ve met a couple of times.”
“Well, come here, Anna,” she said as she turned up the TV.
Nan still remembered Mom, but she didn’t remember me, and I was scared to confuse her by saying, Hey, I’m your granddaughter who you don’t remember. So I didn’t say anything. I just stood there as she explained: “My daughter’s out for the evening it looks like, so you’re stuck here with me.” I could see her smile. Even after everything, her smile could still light up a room. I remembered her smile well.
I smiled back, God I missed the woman she was. Well, the one I knew.
“You’re shy, aren’t you?” she asked.
“A little bit,” I admitted, too afraid to make eye contact.
“If you’re gonna be in my home, I’m someone you’re gonna have to get used to.”
Nan flipped through the channels until we got to a sitcom called Harry’s House. I rem
embered the episode we watched. It was the one where Harry’s stepdaughter, Kelly, went through a breakup and she was in her room crying into her pillow.
Harry kept trying to comfort Kelly, but eventually Kelly went on this huge rant about how men are pigs, trash, and not welcome in her room. Kelly shoved Harry out of her room and slammed the door. This was the part where Harry looked into the camera, sighed, and said, “I’m trying, universe. Be patient with me.” Nan and I said the famous catchphrase in tandem, then caught eyes and smiled.
She asked, “You know this show too?”
“I do,” I replied. I hesitated, then I said, “My grandmother and I used to watch it all the time.”
“Who’s your grandmother?” Nan asked, and everything seemed to pause when she asked that. Even my heart felt like it stopped. But I knew right then, in that moment I had to be brave.
“I’m trying to find her again. I think my biggest fear is her being gone.”
“You think?”
“Yeah. Time created distance between us, and I haven’t heard from her in a long, long time.” I glanced at her. There was no flicker of recognition in her eyes, but she glanced back at me and smiled.
“Time is a battle no one can beat, but it seems to me like your grandmother has a lovely granddaughter.”
I smiled at that. My phone’s alarm startled me as it buzzed. Six o’clock: dinnertime.
“It’s time for dinner, I’ll be right back.” I got up and went to the fridge. There was already a pre-made meal for Nan: a lasagna wrapped in tinfoil, some garlic bread, and a salad. Her pills were all organized in a little container labelled with the days of the week. I heated the pasta and bread in the microwave, then placed it on a plate with the salad, her medication in a little paper cup on the side. I set everything in front of her.
“Thank you, ma’am,” Nan said with a smile. “Looks delicious!”
I felt a bit too young to be called ma’am, but I smiled nonetheless.
She ate in silence for a few minutes, watching the TV. Then she turned to me. “So how do you know Jayla?” she asked.
God, I hated that. I hated that so, so much. I could feel a lump in my throat but I managed to say, “Oh, I met her at an installation once. She was showing off some artwork at the museum.” I didn’t know what else to say.
Nan nodded. “That sounds like my daughter. Showing the world she has a universe inside of her.”
In a way, Mom did show the world the universe inside of her. Her creations came from the heart. I loved the painting she had left in Grampy’s study. I felt bad about what I had said to her, but that didn’t mean it shouldn’t have been said, and sure, I think she knew where I was coming from. Just as I knew it wasn’t an easy thing for her to talk about. But we had to. That was the only way to move forward.
After Nan finished eating it was time for her bath. I drew the water, making sure it wasn’t too warm or too cold, and poured in the soap. I inhaled the scent she always smelled like: strawberry lemon. Nan was capable of bathing herself, so I waited down on the steps, holding the journal. I thought about Clay and our plan. Would tonight be the right night? Mom was gone, and it might be the only chance we would get.
“Clay, I need you.”
He walked out of the living room, leaned against the wall, and crossed his arms.
“I know what you’re thinking,” he said.
“Then you know this might be our only chance.”
“Anna, no.”
“Clay, come on. We’ve practiced, it worked.”
“On you, a sixteen year old. Not a senior citizen.”
“I believe in you.”
“And that’s the problem, Anna. This is all on me. What if I mess up? It may cause damage that might not be fixable.” He looked at me seriously. “This could be more than just nausea or headaches. She is a senior with memory loss, and I don’t know what’s going to happen. That’s what scares me about this!”
“I’ll take the blame,” I said. “If anything goes wrong, it’s on me not you.”
“That’s not how that works.” Clay shook his head.
I knew making him budge would be difficult. His concern was real, but the more I thought about it, the more I was convinced this was the only time we could do it.
“Clay, we might not get this chance again for a long, long time. Mom is gone. We just do it—we just bring her back.”
“It’s more complex than that, plus she’s not as strong as you. She’s old.”
“Yes, but she’s strong. She always was, and always will be.”
Clay sighed and shook his head.
“Clay, please. You know I know the risks. And if you were in her shoes, what would you want me to do? This is dangerous, yes. I’m not denying that. But you have a power—it’s more than rewinding time and creating nostalgia. You can cure whatever is going on inside of her, I know it, and that power is a gift.” I pointed my finger at him, touching his chest.
Clay looked around for a minute, and then looked to the floor. He seemed conflicted but I knew I could reason with him.
“Clay, I know you can do this. I know you’re scared, but sometimes we have to take a risk. We have to face our fears head on. That’s what being brave is about.” I paused and tried to catch his eye. “Can you save my grandmother? Not for me, but for her.”
Clay looked directed in my eyes, and I could see they were not as frustrated as before. I knew he genuinely wanted to help.
“I just want my grandmother back,” I whispered. That was the truth of the matter. If I couldn’t have my grandfather back, this was the next best thing. Clay knew how much it meant to me, and deep down, he knew it might work.
“Okay. I’m going invisible,” Clay said, annoyed. “Bring her down when she’s done her bath, and make sure she sits in the rocking chair.”
“Thank you, Clay.”
“Don’t thank me yet.”
I ran upstairs and saw Nan had already gotten out of the tub and put on her pajamas and housecoat.
“Hey, Tanya,” I said. “We’ve got a bit of time before bed…do you wanna watch some more TV?”
“That’s not even a question, hon. Let’s head down.”
Nan and I went back into the living room. I made sure she was comfortable in her rocking chair, and I turned on the TV. By this time, it was mostly nighttime talk shows so I left it on for her and went into the hall outside of the living room to pick up the journal. I couldn’t see him, but I felt Clay grab my hand.
“Right behind you,” he whispered, still invisible.
This whole situation stressed Clay out. I knew because of how hard he was breathing on the back of my neck. I entered the living room and opened up the journal to the later pages—the ones Grampy had written. There were a few memories I knew we could choose from, but I opened up to the night they first met.
“You there?” I whispered.
I felt Clay’s hand wrap around mine, and I moved forward towards Nan. I stood in front of her and held out my hand.
“What are you doing, Anna?” Nan asked.
Clay put his hand in front of mine. A blue energy formed between them.
“What in the…? How are you doing that?” Nan’s eyes widened as she stood up and moved around behind the chair. I knew she was a little scared, and so was I.
“Clay,” I said. “Take her back to the night she met Rudy.”
“Rudy? Who’s Clay? What’s happening?”
“Tanya,” I said to Nan, “I just need you to close your eyes, all right?”
“Close my eyes? What’s going on?”
“Please, Tanya. Trust me. This is going to help you, I promise.”
Nan looked confused, but she could see the eagerness in my eyes. She sat back down, took a deep breath, and closed her eyes. The blue energy extended to Nan’s face, and her jaw dropped
open.
“Wait, what is this?” she said. “This is…I think I know this bar.”
“Just relax,” I spoke calmly.
Nan’s shoulders relaxed. I hoped that reliving this memory would be somewhat relaxing for her. Besides the whole having to take care of a passed-out Grampy aspect.
“You still there?” I asked Nan. There was no reply, but she had a grin across her face, and was breathing rhythmically—almost as if she was asleep.
“You think she’s okay?” I asked Clay. I stepped aside to see him fade into the living room.
“I think so. I think she’s just hyper focused.”
“We are well beyond dance floors right now. You are not going back into that bar,” Nan said aloud. She laughed.
“That’s exactly what she said to Grampy,” I said, remembering the scene. The memories must be coming back to her. It seemed to be working!
“All right, what do you wanna do now?” Clay asked.
“We’ve got to do another memory,” I said.
I flipped the pages until I got to the one where Grampy had written about Mom running away.
“This one,” I said.
“Okay.”
Clay closed his fist to open it again. Nan leaned back and sunk into the rocking chair a little more. I hoped she was okay. She was quiet for a few moments—then I heard her yell.
“Where is that Stupid! Stubborn! Girl! Rudy, what if she doesn’t come back?” I noticed a few tears rolling down her cheeks. “What if something happened? She hasn’t been herself lately. I shouldn’t have got into it with her that night. I shouldn’t have…I shouldn’t have….”
Oh shit, I thought, this was setting the wrong tone.
“Clay,” I cut in, as I flipped through entries. I found the one where Grampy had written about me being born. “This one.”
“Okay.” Clay opened and closed his hand again. Nan’s tears turned into a smile as she said out loud: “Rudy! Rudy, pick up the damn phone and come meet your granddaughter. And dress nicely. She’s healthy, she’s fine, and her name is Annaka, Rudy.”
“All right, Clay,” I said after a few minutes. “Go to the entry when she braided my hair.”