Turning Grace

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Turning Grace Page 12

by J. Q. Davis


  Mom and I didn’t speak much. The tension melted little by little, but it was still there. She went to work and I went to school. We ate dinner together and that was that.

  Physically, I continued to feel off. I woke up each morning seemingly worse and worse. Or at least I felt that way. The bags were still there. My hair was still lifeless. But once I had eaten breakfast, it was as if the cells in my body finally awoke with me to start the day. I noticed that my breakfast and dinner were beginning to seem larger in quantity. My bag for lunch seemed noticeably heavier. My senses continued to heighten once I did have some kind of food in me, but when I was hungry I realized I would crave things that I normally wouldn’t. Fortunately, the Fluffy incident remained remote, but anytime I would pass an animal…a dog, cat, squirrel, or even a bird, my mouth would water instantly.

  I tried to push those insane thoughts out of my brain and continue on with the week. After all, Halloween was quickly approaching.

  On Friday, I awoke with the usual sharp, stabbing pain and lifelessness. I made it a point to skip the bathroom routine so that I wouldn’t see myself in the mirror. Instead, I dragged myself down the stairs, feeling every step like a mallet to my skull.

  I rounded the corner into the kitchen to find my mother sitting at the dining room table with Dr. Roberson. This was a surprise.

  “Good morning honey,” Mom said with a smile as she stood up from the table.

  “Morning,” I mumbled.

  “Hello Grace. How are you this morning?” Dr. Roberson asked, also with a smile. What was up with the smiles? Too early in the morning.

  “Good. Just hungry,” I said. My eyes darted to the breakfast that was awaiting me. I didn’t mean to be impolite, but I couldn’t control it.

  I sat down. Forgetting anyone was even in the room, I immediately reached out to each plate filled with the breakfast delights. Unfortunately over the past week, I made a habit of not using utensils. And I didn’t care who was watching.

  After what seemed to be way too short of time, I finally looked up from my plate. Mom and Dr. Roberson were watching intently. Well, this was awkward.

  Once I was finished, I sat gazing at all of the empty dishes. Mortified would be the right word for at that moment. “Um…this is a little awkward,” I murmured, blood rushing through my face.

  “No dear, you were just hungry,” Mom stated.

  “Do you feel better?” Dr. Roberson asked curiously.

  For some reason, I felt the need to be defensive. “Well, of course I do. Wouldn’t you if you were starving…if you felt like you hadn’t eaten in months…and you finally do?”

  Mom’s expression instantly changed from a smile to a frown. Dr. Roberson, however, seemed unfazed.

  “You’re right, I would. You seemed to look quite lethargic before you had your breakfast. So, you are feeling yourself again?”

  “Are you trying to say I looked like shit?”

  “Grace!”

  “It’s okay Veronica,” Dr. Roberson said, calming my mother with his hand on hers. “You did look pretty rough.”

  “Um…thanks?” Was this guy for real? I mean, what was he getting at?

  “Honey, how did you feel when you woke up?” Mom asked.

  “The same way I always do, Mom. You know how it is. Dull hair, aching stomach, bags, blotchy skin,” I said, feeling irritated with the questions. This conversation was beginning to rub me the wrong way. I looked around the room, suddenly feeling the eerie sense of someone else watching me.

  “On a scale of one to ten, what would you rate the pain in your stomach?” Dr. Roberson asked.

  I stared at him for a moment while I tried to comprehend what was going on. He was a doctor. Mom was a doctor. There was obviously something going on with me. And it was obvious that Mom told him every single bit of what had been going on. Should I have been worried?

  “A hundred and ten,” I stated. If he was here teaming up with my mom to find out what was wrong with me, I should be honest.

  He glanced over to my mom, then back to me. Trepidation grew over my mother’s face. Dr. Roberson didn’t seem concerned at all. In fact, I thought I could see a smile beginning to form.

  “Grace, what would you say if I told you that I could help you?”

  “I would say awesome. What do I need to do?”

  “What if we can make you feel better from here on out? What if we can take away your pain and you will stay satisfied for a long, long time?”

  “Okay. That sounds great. Is there a pill or something I can take?” Why was he beating around the bush here?

  Mom looked down at her hands. She was fidgeting. She never fidgets. I glanced back over at Dr. Roberson. “So?” I knew I must have seemed different. To be quite honest, the constant feeling of being hungry was beginning to get old. I had only finished breakfast minutes ago and could already begin to feel my stomach wanting more. Agitation was becoming frequent and more familiar every day.

  “Unfortunately, the treatment I am offering you is not here.”

  “Okay, so…do I need to go to the hospital for a little while?” I was willing to do that.

  “Gracie, the only treatment that will fix this is…well, it’s only available far away,” he explained.

  “Far away?” There was no boarding school. “Well, how far? New York or something?”

  “The facility that carries the treatment used to treat your illness is not in the States,” Dr. Roberson explained.

  “What? What do you mean? Is it in like…Europe? Mom, is the treatment not legal here?” For some reason, I didn’t want to speak to Dr. Roberson anymore. His strange sense of excitement began to show, and I wondered why he would be excited. Mom seemed to be more distraught. The scared little girl inside me was beginning to rear her tiny head.

  “Honey, Dr. Roberson specializes in your illness. His facility is on a small island off the coast of Costa Rica.” Mom was trying her best to clarify what Dr. Roberson just said. She sensed my feelings.

  “Costa Rica?” My mind wrapped around the letters as they rolled off my tongue. Did I hear her correctly? “Are you serious?”

  “We have a state of the art facility that houses over thirty patients with a similar case as you. You will, of course, have your own room and there are common areas, outdoor activities, and highly qualified professors so that you can continue your education.”

  I chuckled. “I’m not going to Costa Rica.” No way.

  “Grace, just please listen to what Dr. Roberson has to say,” Mom implored, making it quite clear that she was okay with sending me away.

  “No!” I yelled, getting up from my seat. “This is crazy! Mom, how can you agree with this? You want to send me away? For how long? And why does it have to be there? Can’t you guys fix me here?”

  “Unfortunately, our resources are stationed there. Grace, I believe you would really enjoy your stay with us. It’s truly like…paradise.”

  “It’s not a vacation! I don’t understand. You said there are others like me. What exactly is wrong with me?”

  Mom stood up from her chair and walked towards the sink. She grabbed a glass and filled it with tap water. I glanced over at Dr. Roberson, who was also looking at me. He seemed hesitant, but something told me he was going to explain exactly what I needed to hear.

  Before he could begin his explanation, the doorbell chimed.

  His eyes didn’t leave mine.

  “Grace, I believe that’s Phoebe wondering where you are. You don’t have to go to school today if you don’t want to,” Mom said.

  “No Mom, it’s okay. I want to go.”

  Before I could leave the room, Dr. Roberson stood up from his chair and walked toward me. He put both hands on my shoulders.

  “Grace, we can help you. I can help you. We will take great care of you. However, you need to make a decision soon. Your condition is declining, and I think you know that.”

  I looked up at him. His brown eyes pierced into mine. There was a sense o
f comfort that radiated off his hands, but something deep inside made me feel as though it may not be real.

  “Your mother has my number.”

  I glanced over at my mother. Her face was filled with sadness. Although there were no tears, her eyes were crying and I knew this whole situation was only breaking her heart.

  Without another word, I turned and headed to the front door.

  “Geez lady! We’re gonna be late!”

  “I’m sorry Phoebe. Let me just go change and we can get out of here.” I tried with everything in me to hide the obvious confliction on my face, but she knew better.

  She peered over in the kitchen and saw my mother and Dr. Roberson. “Is everything okay?” she whispered.

  “Yeah. Everything’s fine. That’s Mom’s old friend. I’ll be right back.” I headed up stairs and quickly changed.

  As we walked to school, my mind wandered. Phoebe was droning on and on in the background, but my thoughts were somewhere between here and the coast of Costa Rica. Costa Rica? No way. How could I move to Costa Rica? Dr. Roberson didn’t really explain much either. I mean, I supposed I could have stayed home from school, but honestly I was afraid. He was about to give me answers. Answers to why I had been feeling terrible. Why I ate so much. Why I took it upon myself to dine on a poor, tiny cat. Why didn’t I stay?

  I was afraid. What if I was really sick? Obviously, my body was changing in ways I couldn’t understand, but I believed that what frightened me the most was my mind. I had no control over what I felt or did when I was in that “mode”. What if I was going crazy? I was a teenager for God’s sake. I should be caring about the now. College, boys, parties… Dealing with an illness took someone who was strong-minded and ready to face reality. I wasn’t ready to think like an adult. I wasn’t ready to take my life seriously. And I certainly was not ready to leave my best friend and Tristen and my mom.

  “You’re doing it again,” Phoebe said, frustrated.

  Apparently, we were already at school.

  “Sorry, I just have a lot on my mind.”

  “Well, what are you going to do?”

  “Going to do about what?”

  Phoebe’s expression turned into horror. She dropped her book bag onto the floor and lifted the back of her hand to my forehead. She was always so dramatic.

  I swatted her away. “What?”

  “G. Did you not hear anything I just said? Tomorrow is Halloween. And I overheard Sonny talking to her Minions about Tristen going to the party. She still thinks he will be with her, which means he probably isn’t coming with us.”

  “What!” I knew this would happen. He chickened out. Another thing added to my already screwed up day.

  The homeroom bell rang.

  “I suggest you ask him about it today and not wait till last minute. For all we know, he just forgot about it.”

  “I’ll ask him.”

  Although I was angry at the fact that he told me he would go, and last minute decided not to, I refused to let that she-devil win. I needed some kind of normalcy. And Tristen was going to help me get that.

  Right before the bell rang for calculus, I waited by the door to catch Tristen before he walked in. Of course, he was strolling down the hall with Sonny, her Minions following close behind. Her eyes caught mine. I quickly turned away, trying to avoid any situation from happening today. I am so not in the mood for her shit.

  As they approached the classroom, her whiny voice rang through my ears.

  “So baby, Mom and Dad are going out tonight to some party. You wanna come over and watch a movie?”

  He peeked over at me for a millisecond, then back to Sonny. “Um, I gotta meet the guys tonight for practice.”

  “I thought you were off on Fridays,” she whined. Ugh, it was giving me a headache.

  “Well, I have to go.”

  She stomped her foot. “Fine.” And I thought Phoebe was dramatic.

  When they reached the door to the classroom, she grabbed his face and pulled it to hers. Her mouth opened wide and her long tongue expelled out of her mouth and into his with full force. Her hands took hold of his hair and pulled. The Minions turned the other way. I, on the other hand, couldn’t look away. It was like a train wreck. I didn’t want to look, but I couldn’t help it. He tried to back away gently, clearly embarrassed that she was taking it that far.

  He finally broke free, lipstick smeared on both their faces.

  “That’s what you’ll be missing,” she said as she wiped the little bit of spit left on her face from the violent kiss.

  She gave me a fake smile and sashayed down the hall. I was holding back the bile.

  Tristen glanced at me, ashamed. “Sorry you had to see that.”

  “Well, thankfully I don’t have a pencil handy or else I would have poked my own eyes out.”

  He laughed. I loved his laugh. “Thank goodness for that!”

  The bell rang. Great. Well, we’ll both have to be late for class.

  “So, before you go in, I wanted to ask you about tomorrow. Do you still wanna go on that double date?”

  He began to rub his neck. I hated when he rubbed his neck. He was thinking too hard about it.

  “Well, Sonny is expecting me to be at her party.”

  Son of a bitch.

  “Okay, well…” I knew the disappointment was written all over my face. Quite frankly, I didn’t care. He told me he would go, and then decided he would pretend that he didn’t. Should I have been really upset about that? Somewhere deep down, I just knew this would happen. I didn’t finish my sentence. I turned to walk through the door into the classroom and stopped when I felt his hand on my arm.

  “No. You know what? Screw it. What time are we going?”

  The butterflies in my stomach began their waltz. “Uh…I’m not sure, but I’ll let you know.”

  And with that, we headed into class.

  Chapter 10

  The Call

  The rest of my day became much brighter. I informed Phoebe of the addition to our Halloween festivities. She, of course, was over the moon and couldn’t wait to notify Eric of our plans.

  We discussed our final plans during lunch, which were to meet at my house for seven in the evening and start off with some haunted house hopping. From there, we would visit all of the old, spooky haunted sites New Orleans had to offer, beginning with a visit to Marie Laveau’s grave at the Saint Louis Cemetery No. 1 (a woman infamous for voodoo back in her day), Mona Lisa Drive (a very creepy, abandoned road lined with oak trees and Spanish moss), Hangman’s Tree (a tree standing all alone that resembles the face of a slave that was once hung there many years ago), and ending with an all night slasher movie fest. All the while, I would have Tristen next to me. Oh yeah, this Halloween was going to be the best of them all, and I fully intended on ending the night with a kiss better than what Sonny displayed.

  Phoebe made sure to let Tristen in on our plans, for insurance purposes. Sonny was already going to be furious when she found out Tristen was doing something else for Halloween. All I needed was for her to catch me even looking at him. I wanted to avoid confrontation at all costs and ultimately just leave all of the dirty parts to Tristen.

  On my walk home, I rehashed the night Tristen and I took our walk to remember. Excluding Fluffy and the vomit scene, I focused on his touch and the way his eyes sparkled as he opened up his deepest thoughts to me. He was soulful. I liked that.

  I stopped at the corner store to grab a soda before I reached the house. During my search for cash to pay the clerk, I found a tiny piece of paper in my back pocket. I finally paid the man and continued on with my short walk home, unfolding the yellow Post-it.

  Megan 760-555-7589

  I had completely forgot about it. I grabbed my cell phone out of my Hobo bag and proceeded to dial Megan’s number. I wasn’t really sure why I was calling. I knew Mom had some secrets; at least about Dad. But honestly, I didn’t have the slightest clue what I was going to say to this person.

  “H
i you’ve reached Megan. Sorry I couldn’t answer, but please leave a message and I’ll call you back. Thanks.”

  I hung up. I already wasn’t sure of what I was going to say, I didn’t want to leave a mysterious message for the lady. I would just have to call back.

  Following the smell of food cooking on our stove, I walked straight into the house and into the kitchen. Mom was setting out the plates. She looked up when I entered the room.“Hi Grace. How was school?”

  “It was good.” I sat down at the dining table, still feeling some tension between us. I wasn’t sure when we were going to get past it, but honestly I just wanted to get through the weekend without any input from her.

  She brought over the pot and started to pour the pot roast filled with an array of colors onto the plate in front of me. The steam was rising from the food, a beefy scent found its way into my nose. Of course without the use of utensils, I buried my fingers in. It burned, but I didn’t care. I continued to dig in.

  The food entered my mouth and without barely a chew, it rolled down my throat. As soon as it hit my stomach, I could feel my blood coursing through my veins at a rapid pace. My eyes were closed, because for some reason I found that if I closed my eyes while I ate, I could taste the food even better. I visualized what it did to my insides. I imagined broken molecules throughout my body and once the food made its way down, the broken molecules just magically bound back together. It was mentally satisfying.

  After finishing my pot roast, beef short ribs, Mediterranean salad, brown rice, and taco casserole, Mom cleared the plates off the table. With my body replenished, I helped and handed her the dirty dishes to wash.

  “So Gracie, you will have leftovers along with some other food I prepared in the fridge for you this weekend.”

  “This weekend? What’s this weekend?” I asked, suddenly feeling as though I missed something.

  “I have to go to Arizona, dear. Don’t you remember?”

  With everything that had happened, I completely forgot my mom was going out of town for work. This weekend just took a whole other turn for the better.

 

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