CHAPTER 22
GRAN WAS STARING listlessly at the television set when I arrived at the hospital. Her bed had been cranked up so that she was sitting upright. Her pillow, which had probably once been situated to cradle her head, had slipped down her back, making her look cramped and uncomfortable. Oxygen flowed through tubing that nestled under her nose.
“Good morning, Gran!” I pasted a cheery smile on my face.
“Hello, dear.” She sounded cranky and tired, and if she were a toddler, I would have prescribed a long nap. I was a bit surprised that I wasn’t more tired myself, but I had awakened refreshed and recharged, completely energized by my working with the crystals.
I tried not to let my good mood get burned off by Gran’s frown. “How are you today?” I asked, in a voice that might have been appropriate for a grown-up on Sesame Street.
“I hate it here,” Gran said.
“You’ll be home soon,” I reassured her.
“I can’t get any sleep because the nurses constantly come in to take my temperature, or adjust my oxygen or read my blood pressure. The man next door was moaning all night, and the woman on the other side of that curtain had her grandchildren visiting until 10:00. Grandchildren! In a hospital!”
I reminded myself that Gran didn’t mean me. She was only complaining about someone else’s brats. I renewed my smile. “I’ve brought you a present!”
Gran seemed about to make another tart observation, but then curiosity got the better of her. Her hazel eyes, so like my own, even if they were bloodshot just now, looked inquiringly at me.
I handed Gran a small box. Neko had helped me to find it in the basement. It just about filled my palm, sitting high, with a row of hinges on one wooden edge. It looked ancient and delicate, but solid at the same time, the sort of box that Romeo might have used to give a ring to Juliet.
“What’s this?” Gran asked. “You shouldn’t have gone to any trouble. Not for me. Not just because I have a little bug.”
“Open it!” I urged. “I wanted to see her reaction. I wanted to see if my crystal would work.
Still fussing, Gran lifted the box’s lid. For just a moment, she didn’t know what to make of the contents. I’d nestled the aventurine on a bed of soft velvet. “What’s this?” Gran asked again, but now her voice was filled with tetchy curiosity.
“Just something that I found. Something that I thought you’d like. Maybe you can use it as a worry stone, rubbing it when you feel stressed.”
Gran looked at it dubiously. “Your mother has always been a big one for worry stones. “I stored away that interesting tidbit of information. “Well, Gran, maybe I got more from her than I knew,” I said.
Gran drew in a deep breath, as if she were going to reply, but she only triggered a coughing fit. Like the others, this one shook her entire body, turning her face purple, and clenching her fingers into claws. Helpless, I handed her a Kleenex, but then all I could do was wait. And wait. And wait.
When over a minute had passed, and she was still hacking painfully, I threw caution to the winds. I snagged the jewel box from Gran’s sheets, where she had set it when the spasm began, and I upended it onto her withered palm.
Her fingers curled around the stone by reflex. Her eyes closed as she sucked in more air. But she stopped coughing.
She sank back on her pillow, eyes still shut, as she breathed shallowly. Perspiration stood out on her forehead, but I did not want to disturb her by wiping it away.
“Do you want me to get a nurse, Gran?” I asked, when it seemed certain that she had completely conquered the cough. This time.
“No dear. Not right now.”
Surprisingly, Gran’s voice sounded stronger than it had when I arrived. She must have heard it too; her eyes flew open. “No, dear,” she said again. “I’m actually feeling a little better.”
I helped her to sit up straighter in bed, and I adjusted her pillow so that she no longer looked like Quasimodo’s frailer cousin. When she was settled, she smiled at me, and it was the patient smile I remembered from my childhood. My heart quickened, and I glanced at the aventurine, only to find it still hidden in her fist.
“There is one thing, dear, if it wouldn’t be too much trouble.”
“What, Gran? Anything!”
“I wasn’t hungry for dinner last night, but some applesauce would be lovely now. Some applesauce, and maybe a hard-boiled egg?”
“I’ll see what I can do,” I said, moving toward the door. When I stepped into the hallway, I glance back and saw that Gran was absent-mindedly rubbing the aventurine with her thumb. Color had come back into her lips, and her breathing was easier. I almost skipped down the corridor, in search of a healing woman’s breakfast.