Mom and I jogged down the hallway to Grandma. Mom held her giant stomach up with one hand. I held her other hand. We were all connected to each other like a search party. Grandma was awake and talking to the nurse when we got to her room. She was talking about California. Oh! she said. Entrez! Entrez! Bienvenue! They told me you’d gone for a doughnut! Then we had to tell Mom the whole story of California, except for the part about Grandma driving. Mom and I sat on each side of Grandma. Mom was on Grandma’s good side so she could hold her hand, and I put my hand on Grandma’s soft stomach. I tried to keep my hand loose so it could bounce. I watched it bounce up and down on her stomach when she laughed. Mom tried to say things that were serious but Grandma only wanted to talk about things she thought were hilarious, like when I lost control of her wheelchair and she went flying off and plowed into the Body Shop stand, or things she thought were beautiful, like when Lou held her close in the boat so she wouldn’t fall overboard. And then she went back to talking about hilarious things like when she fell at the old folks’ home from kicking too high. I poked Mom to make her smile.
Telling this story made Grandma laugh so hard that the nurse from way over at the nurses’ station came to tell us we were in a hospital. What did she say? said Grandma. She said we’re in a hospital, I told Grandma. What the blazes? said Grandma. She said we’re in a hospital! I shouted at Grandma. Boy, I’d love a cup of coffee, said Grandma. Small black. Grandma talked, and I looked at Mom looking at Grandma. I watched her for a long time. You’re strong, I said. Mom turned to look at me. That’s what everyone in California said. Really, Swiv? said Mom. She didn’t know what to say. I thought she was going to start crying and have to blow her nose forever. Really? she said again. I nodded. Her face turned red. She tried to hide how happy she was about being strong by making a dumb face. But I knew she was strong and happy. My hand bounced off Grandma’s stomach ten times in one minute and I put it back gently every time. If your Grandma is laughing so hard that your hand which is on her stomach bounces off ten times in one minute how many times will it bounce off her stomach in one year? Five million, two hundred and fifty-six thousand times.
Then Mom was telling us about her play. I could see she thought the director was an asshole. She mostly just hates directors. But she likes her understudy a lot. So your stage manager isn’t mad at you anymore? I asked. No, I think she is again, said Mom. She had stopped being mad at me but now she is again.
Some nurses came into Grandma’s room and fiddled around with things. They didn’t talk loudly enough to Grandma so Mom and I always had to repeat everything they said. Did she say they were bringing me a sandwich and a cup of coffee? asked Grandma. They’re waiting for a bed in cardiology! I said. Grandma wasn’t supposed to eat or drink but she kept offering me a hundred bucks to go get her a black coffee. The nurses put another oxygen mask on Grandma’s face to get her to stop talking. Just kidding. But she stopped talking. She closed her eyes. Mom was doing the crossword puzzle. Who wrote The Grapes of Wrath again? she said. How the blazes should I know! I said. Google it! Mom said no, her rule for crosswords was no googling. Why can’t I remember the guy’s name? she said. This is nuts! All your brains have gone to Gord, I said. It’s true! she said. Did all your brains go to me when I was in there? I asked her. Of course they did, she said. Oh, but then you grew another brain to give to Gord? I asked. That is exactly what I did, sweetheart! she said. So I have your old brain and Gord has your new brain and you have no brain, I said. Until you grow another one. John Steinbeck! she yelled. Grandma’s eyes pinged wide open. She pulled off her oxygen mask and smiled. I’m still here! she said. Did you have dreams? I said. Yeah! said Grandma. Of somebody getting me a black coffee! She wanted to talk about John Steinbeck. Would you saw up The Grapes of Wrath? I asked Grandma. She said oh yeah, she’d saw up any book if it was too big.
Grandma told us about her favourite scene from all of literature, which was in The Grapes of Wrath. It’s where a girl who is pregnant and travelling to California with her poor family and some other people loses the baby, and then even though she is sad and starving and scared she feeds an old man, who is also sad and starving and scared, milk from her own breasts so he won’t die. Grandma read that book long ago in secret because everything was banned in her town. Mom and I looked at Grandma. I mean that is it, in my opinion, she said. That’s what? said Mom. But Grandma had fallen asleep again. I asked Mom if she would let an old man drink from her body if she lost Gord. She didn’t answer for a long time. She sighed. If he was starving to death? she said. I nodded. Right there next to you in a barn, I said. Would you let a person drink from your body when you’re suffering and just trying to get to California? Mom sighed again. Swiv, she said. I want to say yes. I really want to say yes. I waited. I thought to myself. Then say yes already! She made her face small to think, just like Grandma. I had never seen Mom thinking so hard before. I would hope that I would, she said. That’s what I can answer truthfully right now. Is that your final answer? I said. Then the nurse came in and said, Oh, oh this isn’t … she stared at the machine by Grandma’s head. She started fiddling around with it again and then she pushed the intercom button on the wall. Mom stood up. What? she said. Is there a problem?