Heart Song (24 page)

"What did he ask you about me? Come on," I urged. He started to look up and reply but Aunt Sara returned. When she left again, I repeated my question. Reluctantly, he answered.
"His brain is all jumbled from the heart attack, I'm sure."
"Come on, Cary."
"He wanted to know if you were spreading stories about him and your mother. I told him he had to be hallucinating
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to think of something like that and he got so mad at me, I had to leave the room for a while. That's when I met his doctor and heard what was going to happen. Can you think of any reason why he would ask me that question?" Cary asked, his gazed fixed on my face.
"No," I said quickly. What Uncle Jacob had said to me in the CCU was never meant to be repeated. It was as sacred as a dying person's confession to a priest. I had no intention of uttering a word of it, ever.
Cary shrugged and returned to his dinner.
"That's why I said he was hallucinating," he muttered. He eyed me scrupulously as he chewed his food and I turned to May and asked her if she wanted to play Chinese checkers.
Before we rose to go into the living room, I told everyone I was going to visit my grandmother tomorrow. Aunt Sara stopped clearing the dishes.
"Oh dear, is that wise, Melody?" she asked.
"Very wise," I said. "I like her and she likes me. We have to get to know each other before it's too late."
"Yes, I suppose you do," Aunt Sara said, "but I'm sure Olivia--.
"Has nothing to say about it," I chimed in quickly.
"Oh dear," Aunt Sara said. "All this commotion at once. Oh, dear." She hurried back to the sanctuary of her kitchen.
Cary gazed up at me with eyes of appreciation and glee.
"Grandma Olivia has met her match in you, Melody Logan," he said, struggling to contain his amusement.
"Yes, she has. Whether she likes it or not," I fired back, and Cary gave in to a fit of laughter.
Confused at all the commotion, May tugged on my hand for explanations. Instead, I took her into the living room for our game of Chinese checkers. Cary came in to watch us play and fell asleep in his father's chair. No one had the heart to wake him.
"Jacob does that often now," Aunt Sara said gazing at Cary with her eyes twin pools of sadness. She sighed. "Let him sleep."
May and I went up to bed. Aunt Sara tinkered around the house until she had gotten herself tired enough and came up, too. Hours later, I heard Cary's footsteps on the stairway. He paused at my door and then went on to his own room. The boy in him was being shoved further and further back into his memory as he was forced to become a man of responsibility and duty. How lucky were those who could have a full and happy youth.
Holly was there in the morning as she had promised. It was the first time Cary had seen her car, or her, for that matter. She wore one of her long, flowing dresses, a matching headband, opal earrings in a silver setting, a jade necklace, and her pink and green sandals. She had even painted a small pink and green dot on each of her cheeks.
At first Cary was amazed and then he thought it was all very amusing. Aunt Sara merely dropped her jaw and retreated into the house with May. I introduced Cary to Holly and she immediately asked him his date of birth.
"Why?" he asked.
"I know you're a Gemini," she said, "but I need more details about your birthday."
"Huh?" Cary turned to me.
"We have to go," I said quickly. "I want to make visiting hours."
"Oh yes," Holly said. "Perhaps I'll see you soon and we can talk again," Holly told Cary.
He nodded and I got into Holly's car.
"I made something for your grandmother," she told me as we drove away. "It's right on the back seat."
I turned and found a crystal embedded in a blob of silvery-gray stone that looked like petrified scrambled eggs.
"What is it?" I had to ask.
"It's a paperweight," Holly explained, "but that's lepidolite in the center. It aids muscles, strengthens the heart, and is very beneficial to the blood. What is most important, it aids sleep, which I know is a problem for the elderly. Try to get her to keep it close to her bed," she advised.
"Thank you, Holly," I said, wondering not only what Grandma Belinda would think, but what Mrs. Greene and her assistants would do.
Holly thought the rest home was in a truly beautiful and tranquil place.
"Whoever chose the location was sensitive to positive energy," she declared. "I can feel it. It's ideal for meditation."
There were a half dozen or so other vehicles in the visitors' parking lot when we pulled up. I saw a man and a woman helping an elderly lady walk along a garden pathway. The two elderly gentlemen I had met when I came the first time were on the porch again, sitting in the same seats. Only today, both were wearing suits and ties and had their hair neatly combed.
"Well now," the one who had first spoken to me last time said, "you come to entertain us, have you?" He was looking at Holly.
"No sir," she said. "We're just visiting someone."
"That them?" the other man shouted.
"No, they're just visiting someone."
"Who'd you say they were?"
"Just visiting," he repeated. Holly laughed and followed me through the front entrance.
Mrs. Greene was in the lobby, talking with some of the residents, who were apparently waiting to be entertained. One of the attendants, a tall, dark haired man with a pock-marked face and thin, very red lips, stepped out from behind the desk on our right, where he had been talking to a young girl. Mrs. Greene straightened up quickly and hurried toward us, the attendant moving to join her.
"Yes?" she said.
"I'm Melody Logan. Remember? I visited my grandmother, Belinda Gordon, recently."
"Yes, I recall." She pulled her shoulders back and stiffened her jaw. "I remember I specifically asked you not to give her any candy," she said sharply.
"What?"
"I explained how important it was that she not be given any candy. They share what they are given and they don't know who is diabetic and who isn't. I thought you understood that. It's a simple enough request," she added, drawing her lips thin.
"I didn't give her any candy," I said.
"No? Well she had it in her room right after you left," Mrs. Greene said with a twisted smirk.
"I don't think Melody would lie, ma'am," Holly said softly. She had a way of disagreeing with someone that made it sound pleasant, but Mrs. Greene stepped back and drank her in with a look of disgust.
"And who might you be?"
"Just a friend," Holly said.
"Yes, well, I'm afraid I can't permit anyone but immediate family to visit," Mrs. Greene said, "and we do ask that our visitors dress decently. We value our reputation here. Our clients are highly respectable people and there are a number of them visiting their loved ones at the moment."
"Decency comes from the heart, not from our outer garb," Holly said, still speaking softly.
Mrs. Greene ignored her and turned back to me.
"I have spoken with Mrs. Logan," she said, "and she has left instructions that for the time being, no one is to visit her sister. I assumed she would have told you."
"What do you mean, no one? I'm her granddaughter!" I raised my voice. "I'm not just anyone!"
The attendant moved closer. Some of the residents stopped talking and turned our way.
"Please, lower your voice," Mrs. Greene said shooting a glance at some people who were visiting a relative.
"Why can't I see my grandmother?" I demanded.
"Her condition is very delicate. We're just trying to do what's best for her," Mrs. Greene replied with a smile so phony it dripped.
"Surely, having a loved one visit can't be anything but good," Holly said. Mrs. Greene shot her a look that, if it had been a dart, would have pierced Holly's pleasant smile and gone right through her head.
"I'm not leaving here without seeing my grandmother," I fired at her and planted my feet so firmly, it was as if they were nailed to the floor.
Mrs. Greene studied us a moment. I saw a look of retreat in her eyes, which quickly fell to the gift in my hand.
"And what is that you're bringing her?"
"It's a crystal paperweight and it has healing powers," I said.
Mrs. Greene smiled coldly.
"I can't permit it. We have to have control over what is brought into the rooms."
"What harm can this do her?"
"I can't permit it," she repeated. "It's against my better judgment, but I will permit you, and you alone, to visit with your grandmother for half an hour."
"Why am I limited in time? No one else is," I protested.
"That's my final decision. I have a major responsibility here. The welfare of my guests, all my guests, must be taken into consideration. And I repeat, only immediate family," she said, sending another look of disgust Holly's way.
Holly put her hand on mine and smiled.
"I'll just wait for you out on the porch," she said with a wink. I knew she would enjoy speaking with the two elderly gentlemen. She took the paperweight from my hands and turned to Mrs. Greene. "Perhaps I can make this a present to you," she said. "One of the qualities of lepidolite is that it enhances one's expression of inner light and joy."

^{"Ridiculous," Mrs. Greene said and pivoted. -}
"Gerson, show Miss Logan to Miss Gordon's room. "She's in her room?" I asked. It was such a
beautiful day, and most of the residents had been
brought to the lobby for their entertainment. Why was
Grandma Belinda shut up in her room?
"Yes," she said, lifting the corner of her mouth
until it cut into her cheek. "She's not feeling well
today. That's why I want to limit your visit. Your
cooperation will be appreciated," she added and
returned to the people with whom she had been
talking when we arrived.
"This way," the attendant said. He wore a sharp,
sarcastic smile on his lips. Holly pressed my hand and
nodded.
"Go on. I'll be fine," she said.
I followed the attendant through the lobby and down the corridor toward the residents' rooms, my heart thumping with every furious thought that
bounced from one side of my brain to the other. I was even angrier when I saw Grandma
Belinda. Her door was shut and she was sitting in her
rocking chair near the window, gazing out like a child
who had been punished and sentenced to stand in a
corner. The lights were off, so the room was full of
shadows. She was wrapped in a shawl and appeared
smaller than I remembered her. Her eyes were red, her
face pale, and it looked as if she had been crying. I
waited for a moment, but she didn't even notice I had
entered her room.
"You got a half hour," the attendant reminded
me firmly and stepped out, closing the door behind
me. I went to Grandma Belinda and touched her hand.
She turned slowly and looked up at me,
expressionless, indifferent, a lost lamb.
"Hi Grandma. It's Melody. I came to see you
again. How are you?" I asked quickly. "Why are you
sitting in the shadows?"
She stared at me blankly, her eyelids blinking
rapidly.
I told her I was pregnant," she began, "and I
told her it was Nelson's baby. She got very angry and swore at me and called me a liar. She called me terrible names and said she wouldn't help me if I told my lie to anyone else, ever, but I wasn't lying. I
wouldn't lie."
"Nelson? You mean Judge Childs?" I asked and
sat on the bed, facing her. She rocked and nodded. "Yes. There were other young men. I've always
been very popular," she said with a flirtatious smile.
Then, in a heartbeat her face changed expression until
she looked older, serious. "But I should know who is
the father of my child, don't you think?" Her face
turned angry. "How can you doubt me, Olivia? You
want to doubt me; you don't want it to be true because
you've always loved Nelson. Well, don't blame me
because he loves me more than he loves you." "Grandma," I said softly. She seemed to be
looking through me and not at me, her gaze distant. "Stop that laughing. I'm not lying. I'm not!" she
said, straining her throat until the veins in her neck
were well outlined.
"It's all right, Grandma. It's all right. I believe
you," I said and took her hand.
She stopped rocking and looked at me. She
began to blink rapidly again. And then, like magic,
her face brightened with a childlike smile.
"It's a nice day," she said, glancing through the
window. "It should be my birthday."
She laughed and rocked. Then she stopped
again and her face grew darker, her eyes small, her
lips taut. She shook her head.
"I was screaming upstairs, screaming at the top
of my voice. It's time. It's time! The door was locked.
She wanted me to lose the baby, you know. Oh, don't
look at me that way," she said, turning to me. "You're
always taking her side."
"Grandma," I said softly. "It's Melody." She shook her head. Was she telling me the
truth or was everything so jumbled in her mind that
her words were like one crossword puzzle confused
with another, the answers all to the wrong questions? "She left me, no doctor, no midwife, no one. I
guess you never knew that part, huh?" A crazed twist
shaped her lips and she smiled so coldly it put ice in
my veins. "I delivered my own baby and when she
came up and found the baby was all right, she nearly
died herself with disappointment. You never knew. I
can see it on your face, Nelson. You never knew." She turned and rocked. I held my breath until I
saw her chin begin to quiver and the first tear emerge. "Grandma," I said. "Please, try to look at me
and see me. Please."
What had they done to her? Why was she so
much more confused, lost. How long had she been
kept in this room? Her rocking stopped again. She
took a deep breath and lowered her face until her chin
rested on her chest. Then she closed her eyes and in
moments was asleep.
I sat, waiting to see if she would wake and go
into another exclamation, drawing thoughts,
memories, words from some secret place in her mind.
The minutes ticked and she slept.
If Neison Childs was the father of her baby . . .
then he was
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my real grandfather, after all, and that
made Kenneth my uncle. Did he know? What if none
of this were true? What if it were?
Oh please wake up, Grandma, I thought. I want
to know more; I want to be sure.
There was a gentle knock on the door. When I
turned, a short, plump nurse entered carrying a cup
and some water.
"She's dozed off again, has she?" she remarked. "What's wrong with her? She's so different
from the way she was the last time I was here, and it
wasn't that long ago," I questioned.
"When they reach this age and they've been sick or lived a hard life, changes can occur from hour to hour," she said. "She's falling into Alzheimer's,"
she added. "In some cases that's merciful."
"Well not in hers. She has a lot of years left and
she can get better," I cried.
The nurse raised her eyebrows and looked at
me as if I were the one who was suffering mental
aberrations. She shook Grandma Belinda's shoulder. "Come on, Belinda. Time for your medicine,"
she said.
Grandma's eyes fluttered open and she turned
slowly.
"Come on, dear. Take your pills. Remember?" "Pills? Again? Why so many pills, Olivia? Did
the doctor really say I should take these, too?" "Yes, he did."
The nurse looked at me.
"Who's Olivia?" she whispered.
"Her sister."
"Oh. Yes, Belinda, he did. Come on, honey.
That's it," she said. "Now wash them down. Good
girl."
"What are those pills?" I asked.
"They're just a form of a tranquillizer to keep
her calm," she said.
"Maybe they're doing her more damage." "Are you a doctor?" the plump nurse asked with
a face full of ridicule.
"No, but--"
"Well, her doctor has prescribed them. If you
have a problem with that, speak to Mrs. Greene," she
added and left the room.
"I'd rather speak to the wall," I mumbled. Grandma Belinda was staring out the window
again. I touched her hand and she turned slowly, very
slowly, toward me, her eyes so sad, they put tears in
my heart.
"Grandma, it's me, Melody. Remember?" She
smiled.
"Yes. He told me about you. He said you look
just like your mother." Her smile evaporated. "Only, I
can't remember what she looked like."
"She looked like you," I said.
"Did she?" She smiled again and then gazed out
the window while she spoke. "It's my birthday you
know. We're having guests and a cake.
"Happy birthday, Grandma," I said, tears now
building under my eyelids.
"Everyone's going to sing Happy Birthday to
me." She turned. "Even Olivia, because I'll look right
at her and she'll have to sing. Right?"
"Yes," I said and smiled.
"Happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me,
happy birthday, dear Belinda, happy birthday to me."
She closed her eyes.
There was a harder knock on the door and the
attendant appeared.
"It's time, he said.
"It can't be a half hour."
"It is," he insisted. "Don't make it hard for me,
will ya," he muttered with threatening eyes. "No," I said standing. "I'll leave that to Mrs.
Greene."
I leaned over and kissed my grandmother on
her cheek. She didn't open her eyes. Then I turned and
marched past him and down the corridor.
The residents were being entertained by a
singer in the lobby. She played the accordion as well.
Mrs. Greene was standing in the rear with some
attendants, a receptionist, and some visitors. She
glared my way and I glared back as I left the lobby
and stepped out of the building, my heart thumping so
hard I thought it would drown out the singing. There was no one on the porch, but I saw Holly
on a bench talking softly to some song birds who stared up at her as if they really understood. Even though I was still shaking, the sight brought laughter
to my lips. She saw me and hurried up the walkway. "How was your visit?" she asked.
"Very bad," I said. "They're medicating her into
oblivion and I have the feeling it's Grandma Olivia's
fault. I've got to pay her a visit."
"Oh, that's so sad. If we just taught them how to
meditate, there would be no need for chemical
therapy."
"There's no need for it now," I said. "Unless
keeping the truth buried is a good reason."
Holly's eyebrows lifted into question marks, but
I didn't want to say anything until I was certain what I
had heard was really the truth. At least now I understood why Grandma Olivia had been so interested in
learning what her sister had told me the first time. I
felt as if I were opening the door to a vault, a vault
covered in dust and cobwebs, its hinges rusted. This
was no time to walk away.
"Could you do me a favor," I asked, "and take
me to my Grandmother Olivia's house? It's just a little
out of the way."
"No problem," Holly said. "If that's what you
want."
"Oh, it's what I want," I said nodding. "I never
wanted it more.."