by Jim Johnson
I knocked on his door and entered the room. He was sitting at his little round table next to the large plate glass window overlooking the courtyard in the center of the building, which was sort of U-shaped.
He had a little pair of green binoculars in hand and a thick book perched on his lap. He glanced at me as I walked in and waved me over, then put the binocs back to his eyes and focused beyond the glass window.
Curious, I closed the door behind me and took the chair next to him. “What are you looking at?”
He cleared his throat with a little cough. “One of the nurses suggested I take up bird-watching.”
I glanced at the big book in his lap, a thick hardcover titled “North American Birds.” It was open to some random page displaying high-res pictures of assorted little birds. I didn’t know much about birds so couldn’t have guessed as to what kind.
I glanced out the window in the direction he was using the binocs. “I don’t see any birds out there, Grandpa. Do some come into the courtyard during the day?”
He nodded and then lowered the binocs. “Pretty sure I saw me an early robin yesterday.”
I frowned. “Aren’t they sort of spring birds?”
He nodded. “I betcha spring comes early this year.”
I raised an eyebrow. “It was warm enough yesterday, but they’re calling for snow sometime tonight and into tomorrow.”
He sighed. “I heard at breakfast, on the TV. Stupid Weather Channel is all they play in the cafeteria any more.”
I snorted. “Really? I thought you had more choices than that here.”
He waved a hand toward the turned-off television hanging on the wall near his bed. “Oh, we do. In fact, Caroline invited me over tonight for a Netflix-and-chill session, so I know she has all the good shows.”
I stared at him, a half-grin, half-shocked look freezing my face. “You’re gonna Netflix-and-chill with…Caroline?”
He gave me a grin that, if I didn’t know him much better than I did, I might have called ‘wolfish’. He said, “Yeah, but we probably won’t watch much. We’ll just have it on for background noise, you know.”
I put my hand over my ears and shook my head. “I can’t be hearing this, I really can’t.”
He grinned. “Isn’t that what you youngsters do these days? It’s all over the Google, anyway.”
I stifled a laugh and then shook my head. “Abbie and I don’t have a TV, Grandpa. Much less a Netflix subscription. Cable around here is too expensive and the house is old enough that it’s not easy to run more cable lines into it. Penny has a TV with cable, and I think Tonia, in the basement, does too, but that’s about it.”
Grandpa put the binocs on the book and then moved the book to the floor. He turned in his chair to focus on me with a smile. “So how do you two entertain yourselves without a TV?”
I handed him the Starbucks bag with the lemon cake and settled into my chair with my coffee. “We read together, and sleep together, and talk a lot. Go for walks too, in the city or just around the neighborhood.” I shrugged. “Lately, though, she’s been working late and I’ve been getting home late from training.”
His eyes lit up at that and he darted a quick glance toward the crystal hanging around my neck. “And how’s the training going? Are you learning all sorts of tricks?”
I shrugged, then shook my head after thinking about it. Most of what I did probably wouldn’t make sense to him since he had forgotten so much. “It’s not magic like that, Grandpa. I can’t do tricks.” I thought about Robert’s phone, then giggled. “But I can do some stuff, and I’ve gotten better with practice. My teacher is happy with my progress, even though we still have a lot of work to do.”
He raised an eyebrow as he stuffed some lemon cake into his mouth. He chewed noisily and then swallowed. “Is she treating you all right, this teacher of yours?”
I smiled, though I didn’t have a lot of joy to fold into it. “I think so. She hasn’t taught anyone in a while, so there are some learning pains on both sides, but we’re working pretty well together as a team. She knows enough to tell me what I need to know.”
I raised a finger. “Which reminds me… Miss Chin gave me an old journal and said it was for me from someone like me a long time ago. I guess it’s been handed down over the years or something.”
Grandpa frowned. “Miss Chin? I feel like I should know that name.”
I reached out and rested my hands over his. “She’s my teacher, Grandpa. I’ve mentioned her before.”
“I know, but, I mean…I feel like I should have met her at some point.”
I shook my head. “She’s never been here as far as I know. I’m sure you would have remembered her. She’s hard to miss in a crowd.”
His eyes got that sad faraway look that had occurred more and more frequently. I glanced out the window because it broke my heart to look in his eyes and see his memory slipping away bit by bit.
He shook his head and focused on me and smiled. “Well, anyway. It’s good to hear that your training is going well. Did you bring this journal with you? Can I see it?”
I hated to crush the excited look on his face, but I had to be honest. “No, I left it at home. I didn’t think to bring it with me. I promise to bring it along next Wednesday.” I made a mental note to remember just that.
He met my eyes and smiled, and waved his hand. “I’d love to check it out with you, but don’t worry if you forget. I’m sure you have better things to do than humor an old man.”
I reached over and patted his arm. “It’s no trouble at all, Grandpa. I like spending time with you.” I turned to look meaningfully at the small stack of board games and card games on his bookshelf. “Now, what are we going to play today?”
He stuck another fingerful of cake into his mouth and ambled over to the bookshelf. “Well, now, let’s get down to it, shall we?”
As he rummaged through the games on the shelf, I sat back and watched, my heart full of love for him and all the memories I had of him and Grandma, wishing that my training and my talents could somehow give him back his memory, but suspecting that there wasn’t much a Weaver could do to slow or stop the passage of time and the slow creep of aging.
Chapter Fourteen
NEAR THE END OF OUR TENTH or eleventh hand of five-card stud—I had lost count—there was a knock on Grandpa’s door. I folded and then stood up and opened the door. Malcolm was standing on the other side, in his customary Baltimore Ravens parka. He had a sidelong grin on that suggested he had been up to something.
“Hey, Rachel,” he said.
“Hey back.” I glanced at Grandpa. “Malcolm’s here, Grandpa.”
Grandpa dropped his cards on the table and then waved toward us. “He’s welcome to come in.” I sensed the change of tone in his voice—instead of being his usual warm and friendly tone, it had taken on a more cool and collected timbre. He wasn’t all that sure about Malcolm, though I had done my best to present him as a friend. Grandpa didn’t remember anything about the fight the three of us had been in with the Spinner and had no idea how Malcolm had tried to help.
I waved Malcolm into the room. He poked his head in through the open doorway. “Hi, Mister Farran. Good to see you again.”
Grandpa adjusted his chair to face the two of us. “Hello, Malcolm. I trust you’re well?”
Malcolm took a step or two into the room, but kept his hands in his pockets and a foot in the doorway, like he wasn’t planning to stay long. “Doing all right, thanks.”
“And your grandmother? I hope she’s feeling better. We’ve missed her the past couple days.”
Malcolm’s grandma was also a resident of Branchwood and had been sick on and off recently. Malcolm glanced at me and said, “Yeah, she’s doing better. Said she’ll be at dinner tonight. I just come from seeing her.”
Grandpa smiled. “That’s good to know. I’ve missed her. She and I have chatted more during the days after lunch. Since you two have started getting along, we thought we’d try to get to
know one another better.” He grinned and waved at Malcolm to encourage him to step closer. Malcolm grudgingly did so, after shooting me a questioning glance that I had no answer for.
Grandpa said, “I want you to know that I know about your little arrangement with your grandma.” He raised a hand when Malcolm looked alarmed. “No, no, don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me. The, ah, medicine does a lot for her, and if she doesn’t tell you often enough, you should know that she really does appreciate it.”
If I didn’t know any better, I’d say Malcolm looked downright uncomfortable; embarrassed even.
He ducked his head, an action that made him look a dozen years younger. “Thanks, Mister Farran. I appreciate that.” He offered Grandpa a smile. “You know, if you ever need some, you know, medicine…”
I had no idea what they were talking about, but I had my suspicions, and that was my cue to cut this conversation short. I gave Malcolm a little push toward the door. “All right, we gotta get going, Grandpa.” I glanced at Grandpa as I grabbed my jacket and satchel and hip-checked Malcolm toward the door.
“I’ll see you next week. Don’t strain your eyes too much looking at birds, and definitely no Netflix with Malcolm’s grandmother.”
Grandpa’s eyes lit up, as if the suggestion hadn’t occurred to him. I sighed in exasperation and then pushed a confused-looking Malcolm out the door. “And when you do Netflix-and-chill, just, you now… Be safe, all right? Love you much.”
The door shut behind us, muffling Grandpa’s chuckles he had sent my way in response. Malcolm flashed me a horrified look. “Your grandpa gets into Netflix-and-chill?”
I rolled my eyes. “God, yes. And the less I hear about it, the better. Forbidden topic, all right?”
He shook his head. “I can’t unlearn what I now know. The image will be with me forever.”
I sighed. “Oh, well. Enjoy that mental picture. Wanna go check out the old stairwell?” I started to walk down the hallway before he could answer. Malcolm fell into step with me, chuckling as we walked.
“What’s so funny?” I asked.
He shook his head. “I dunno. I mean, old people here. I hear they go through more rubbers than a high school football team at the height of puberty.”
I paused and put a hand on his shoulder. “God, please, Malcolm. Let’s not talk about this. Ever. I love my grandpa, but the last thing I want to think about is him getting it on with any other resident of this nursing home. I just…can’t with that image. Not now; probably not ever.”
He met my eyes, grinned, but then shrugged and smiled. “All right, that’s cool. Let’s talk about something else.”
By this point we had passed through the main hallway and entered the side hall, and walked partway down the corridor toward the stairwell that had led us to discover a break in the Veil and the subsequent battle with the Spinner.
The hallway and stairwell door didn’t look any different than they had weeks ago, though the wall opposite the door still had subtle dents in the drywall where Malcolm and I had crashed into it after getting tossed out of the stairwell by the Spinner’s burst of power.
I pointed at the door. “Wasn’t all that long ago that we were getting our butts tossed out of that.”
He frowned and shrugged inside his jacket. “No doubt. We’ve moved on since then, though. Won’t let that happen again.”
I nodded. “I don’t know if it’ll never happen again, but at least if it does, we’ll be better prepared.”
Malcolm raised an eyebrow. “How so?”
I met his eyes. “We’ve been training together a lot, lately. And I’ve been working with Miss Chin, both with the ley threads and the Veil.”
Malcolm opened the door and walked into the stairwell, leaving the door open for me to follow. “I appreciate the training you’ve given me, but I haven’t had as much luck practicing on my own. I worry a lot about getting out of control and burning places up, you know? I don’t have a Miss Chin to fall back on.”
I could hear the subtle recrimination in his tone. I raised a hand. “Now, come on, Malcolm. We’ve talked about this. I like Miss Chin well enough, but she’s struggling to train just me. I don’t know what she’d do with both of us to train. And I don’t know anyone else besides the three of us who can do what we do.”
He sat on one of the steps. “I know, but I have to admit it feels unfair. You’re way ahead of me. You’re this big ghost guider, or whatever. I can’t do that. Hell, I can barely even hold onto a ley thread to save my life, and I can barely keep a lid on my powers.” He sighed. “You saw that yesterday.”
Yesterday, oh God. “Yeah, I know. I was there.” I sat down next to him. “And good thing, too. Those guys had real guns, Malcolm. I don’t think even your burning hands would have done much if they had started to open up on you. As it is…I’m not convinced we won’t see them again.”
He shook his head. “Buster Jay’s not going to just disappear. I’ve been talking around and it sounds like he’s royally pissed off and looking for us.”
“Well, he found us once, didn’t he? I mean, he had his guys follow you, right?”
Malcolm glanced at me and nodded. “Yeah, I guess so.”
I shook my head. “Shit, why are we even talking about this? Shouldn’t we call the cops?”
He snorted. “Call them and say what, exactly? That we rescued my sister from a drug dealer and now that drug dealer is coming after us, looking to settle the score?”
I considered that, then nodded. “Pretty much, yes! It’s the truth, anyway.”
“But not all of it. We’d have to mention the magic and the fiery hands and whatever you did to his gun when he tried to shoot us after taking my sister back.”
I scrunched up my face as I thought about it. “I guess that’d be harder to explain.”
Malcolm stared at the floor and other stairs for a few moments. “I guess we could call that detective. What was his name, Belko?”
“Bello.” Just saying his name gave me the creeps. “I guess we could call him, but…I don’t know how much help he’d be.”
“Why do you say that?”
I thought about the recent scare and talk I’d had with Detective Bello. “I dunno, Malcolm, I just… The guy gives me the creeps. I haven’t told you yet, but I ran into him last night after you dropped me off. He was lurking around the alleys not far from my house.”
Malcolm gave me a surprised look. “What?”
I nodded. “Said he was working on an old case about a murdered woman. I’m confident he was talking about the murder of the first ghost I ended up leading to the Veil and the Holding.”
Malcolm rested an elbow on his knee and then rested his chin in his hand. “You think he knows something, you know…about the magic and the ley threads?”
I stared into his eyes, thinking it through and trying to remember everything Bello had said to me. Finally, I said, “I really don’t know, Malcolm. He knows more than he’s letting on, for sure, and it’s definitely suspicious that he’s been around the nursing home and the alleyway about the same time as all this ley thread magic has been happening.”
Malcolm stared at some point in the air. “Maybe we should pay him a visit and ask him.”
I glanced sidelong at him. “That sounds ominous.”
He shrugged and then looked at me. “Just a thought. Other than your Miss Chin and your friend Bonita, I don’t think we know anyone who might be able to help us with the magic stuff. And other than calling the cops, I don’t know anyone else who might be able to help us with Buster Jay’s toughs.” He locked eyes with me. “Maybe talking to Bello would help us solve two potential problems.”
I inclined my head and then turned away. “I don’t know, Malcolm. The guy gives me the creeps.” I sighed, then glanced back at him. “But I’ll think about it, okay? I’m not ready to go rushing headlong into a meeting with Bello, but I’ll do it if we agree it’ll help us get Buster Jay off our backs and get you some additional training
.”
He offered a smile, one that looked genuinely relieved. “Speaking of training, when can we get together again? Yesterday’s session sorta got sidetracked.”
“That’s an understatement.” I thought through my next couple days. “I gotta work tomorrow and I promised Abbie we’d have dinner together. How about Friday afternoon? I’m free most of the day.”
He pulled out a smartphone that looked as new as mine and poked at it, and then looked up with a smile. “Yeah, I’m free Friday. Where you wanna meet?”
I stood up and brushed my hands on my pants. “Usual place, the bus stop. Pick me up around four? We can go to the grove again. Being out among the trees and grass seems to help, even if it’s cold.”
I had taken Malcolm to Canal Center a couple times to train, and then we had stumbled upon the LBJ memorial grove about a week ago while looking for a more private place to train that was a natural setting and also not heavily travelled.
He nodded. “Sure, four works for me. Want me to get us food on the way?”
I shook my head and offered a hand to help him to his feet. “Nah, I’ll eat beforehand. Take-out can be expensive and I’m on a crushing budget at the moment.”
He spread his hands to either side. “Well, it could be my treat.” He grinned. “Payment for training me, maybe.”
I chuckled and then led the way out of the stairwell. “You know me, Malcolm. I’m not gonna refuse free food. You got a deal. Dinner for a couple hours of training.” I reached out a hand. “But don’t tell anyone. I gotta keep my tuition fees a secret.”
Chapter Fifteen
WE HEADED OUT OF BRANCHWOOD, CHATTING back and forth about the few things we had in common. I was restless, though, and ready to get home. After Malcolm finally took the hint and left me alone, I headed straight for home because I knew I’d have the house to myself until everyone got home from their day jobs. I wanted to spend some time meditating with that old journal Miss Chin had given me. Mentioning it to Grandpa had made me want to check it out.
