Two days later Cary drove me up to Grandma Belinda's rest home so I could make my weekly visit with her. Cary liked to visit with Grandpa Samuel. He said he at least got him to talk about fishing. I was anxious to tell Grandma Belinda all the good news. It seemed the only baggage I ever brought with me when I visited her were suitcases full of sadness and tragedy. She was still spending lots of time with Mr. Mandel, but this time I found him first in the lobby, playing checkers with another man. He recognized me and smiled.
"Good, you're here," he said. "She needs company. I've been trying to beat Mr. Braxton here at checkers all week, but I never get the time. She doesn't let me out of her sight," he explained with a twinkle in his eyes.
"Just his excuse for being afraid of losing to me," Mr. Braxton said. "Blaming that poor old lady. You should be ashamed of yourself, Mandel."
"We'll soon see who's going to be ashamed," Mr. Mandel replied and jumped one of Mr. Braxton's checkers.
Cary laughed.
"She's on the bench in the garden," Mr. Mandel told me.
Cary and I split up in the hallway, he going down to Grandpa Samuel's room first. It was a very bright and warm afternoon. The flowers were in full bloom. Lilacs with their dark purple spikes climbed over the walls and gates. Bees hovered over the honey locusts. The yellow tea roses were especially brilliant and there were petunias everywhere. I knew how much Grandma Belinda liked being outside, how much she enjoyed soaking in the sunshine and drinking in the wonderful rainbow colors all around her.
I saw her on her usual bench, a small smile on her lips, her head back with her eyes closed, basking in the sunlight. Her hands were in her lap and she wore one of her prettier print dresses, with a pearl comb in her hair. I couldn't help but wonder if that was the way I would look when I was her age.
"Hello, Grandma," I said as I approached. Lately, she had begun to remember more and more about me, although she still said very little about my mother and asked no questions.
She didn't reply so I sat beside her and took her hand into mine. The moment I did, a shudder of abject terror passed like an electric current up through my arm and into my heart, which stopped and then started to pound again frantically. Her hand was ice cold.
"Grandma?" I shook her. Her body trembled and stopped, but her eyes remained shut. Her lips parted just a little more. "Grandma Belinda!"
I shook her harder and then I turned and shouted to the nearest attendant for help.
"Hurry!" I screamed. He ran over.
"What's wrong?"
"She won't wake up," I said and he knelt at her side, felt for a pulse, opened her eyes, and then shook his head.
"She's gone," he declared as if she had just gotten up and walked away.
"Gone? She can't be gone. She's smiling. She's pleased and happy."
"I'm sorry," he said shaking his head.
"No. Please. Call the doctor. Call someone!"
"Take it easy. I'll get Mrs. Greene right away," he said. Then he leaned toward me. "She doesn't like us to make too much of a deal of it when this happens," he said in a loud whisper. "It disturbs the others and makes it all that much more difficult around here."
"I don't care what she thinks. Get a doctor!" He stood up.
"I'll be right back," he promised and hurried away.
"Oh, Grandma Belinda, please don't go. Not yet. We're really just getting to know each other and you're all I have. Please, wait," I begged her, babbling stupidly at her side.
I t
ook her cold hand in mine again and sat there beside her, the tears streaming down my cheeks, rocking my body gently back and forth as I muttered my silent prayers and continued to beg her to stay just a little while longer.
Moments later, Mrs. Greene came hurrying down the garden pathway accompanied by two other attendants and a nurse. The nurse charged ahead and examined Grandma Belinda, making the same pronouncements quickly.
"Get the stretcher from the infirmary," Mrs. Greene ordered the attendants. "Bring it out that side door and take her back in that way. I'll call the mortuary."
"No!" I cried and buried my face in my hands.
"You can come to my office, if you wish," she told me curtly. "I'll have to call Mrs. Logan right away. Don't worry. Arrangements have been made. We do that immediately after we accept a patient."
"How convenient for everyone," I replied as I brushed the tears off my cheeks.