A Growing Sea of Short Stories

Hospital

—found Her in their bed, cold

Uncle Dennis just wrapped up telling HER story again. I know that Grandaddy found HER, that SHE was asleep and then just cold. Uncle Dennis always had a thing for theatrics, for storytelling, even when surrounded by deaf ears. It's an enjoyable skill most days. I wish he would tell the story about HER starting a fire in the kitchen with no-bake cookies, or that time SHE fell asleep in the bathroom at Tractor Supply. Anything other than this one. The minute hand on the clock, mounted on the white wall just above his head, finishes another round. Shifting on this metal chair, I wonder what we are still waiting on.

Mom mumbled an apology and answered her screaming phone. Honestly it wasn't really anymore loud than my cousin Ryder earlier, who is now like a tiny, sleeping rock in my arms, but here everything is too loud. I think it's the air. The white tile reflects fluorescent light into my eyes. The air burns my nose a bit. It's stiff, sterile. I have to be quiet to keep the headaches at bay. Most of the conversations are drown out by a low buzz from the air conditioner.

My hands want to shake around little Ryder, but I still them for fear of losing time. The DCS agent is already here, asking questions no one has answers to. The little hands on the clock tick another minute by. Tomorrow, he could be gone. SHE was responsible for him, so now that SHE's cold, the agent "needs to find a respectable household to keep him," as she told mom.

My aunt Nicole chose cocaine instead of him many years ago. She had a boyfriend that Granddaddy tried to keep her away from, so she moved out across town to be with him. She would come around for Christmas, ignore her favorite cookies at dinner, hide out in my room with the lights real low all day. Track marks spotted the bends of her arms. She always carried a bag no one was allowed in. The next year, her left eye had a yellowing bruise. When she took her shirt off for bed I saw a patchwork of them across her stomach, back too, in all different colors. When I asked her if they hurt she said yes, but love always hurts and she loved him. I heard her say that to Granddaddy the next year at Christmas, this time with the news of Ryder. She got busted doing the drug and sent to jail. The judge deemed her unfit for parenthood, so when Ryder was born he immediately came to our house, HER being his guardian. Nicole has been in and out of jail. Out more recently. She is still not here, though. I called her yesterday to share the news about HER so mom could avoid it a little longer.

My uncle lifts a chipped mug filled with water to his lips. "I'll get Sarah to bring the rest of HER cookies we have at the house." He takes a drink, water drips down his chin.

"The dog ate a few Monday, but the rest should be fine." He drops the mug on the table, scoffing at the spilled water.

"SHE just made them Sunday."

All whispered conversations pause; today is Tuesday. Cody puts a hand on his shoulder for a moment, then flops into the chair next to mine.

"Jeez. Just Sunday." I give him my best no-teeth smile.

"Hey, Bubba." He returns it with his own sad-eyed grin. Although he stands a whole foot taller than me now, his head still fits perfectly on my shoulder. Ryder shifts, then resettles in my arms.

"Do you remember sitting like this, eating the cookies SHE made on the porch swing?"

"Yeah. Chocolate oatmeal cookies, and watermelon. Summers were a lot cooler when we got that pool."

He asks me if I have seen HER. I tell him, I have been busy with Ryder.

I remember those summers, stripping in the front door to get out of wet pool clothes and running to the back room for a dry change. You have to run past Granddaddy's room to get there. The door was always closed, so the dogs would stay off the bed. Uncle Dennis said SHE was in HER bed most of the day when it happened; All of HER coughing and chemo treatments took a lot out of HER, so most of that day was spent napping.