The Innocent

by Michelle K. Pickett

  Chay moved from window to window, opening them. It seemed to take forever, but I started to feel a cool breeze blow through the apartment. “How is she?” he asked.

  “Her heart is beating really fast. I’m not sure what that means. She isn’t sweating, which isn’t a good sign. And she isn’t responding when I talk to her.”

  “I’m going to go see if I can flag down an EMT worker so we can get her to the hospital. You’ll be okay?”

  “Yes. Just hurry. Please.”

  Chay wasn’t gone ten minutes before he came back with two EMTs pushing a gurney. They tried to revive Grams by speaking to her and shaking her. Even poking her arm with the IV needle didn’t get a response.

  “We’ll be taking her to St. Mary’s if you want to follow in your car,” one of the EMTs told us.

  “Thanks.” Chay wrapped his arm around me and pulled me tight against his body.

  “Did you call my mom and dad?”

  “Yes,” Chay answered, rubbing his hand up and down my arm. “I’ll call them when we get to the hospital and let them know where we are. Okay?”

  I nodded. “I wish they’d take her to St. Joseph’s.”

  “Why? St. Mary’s is closer.”

  “That’s where Mae was,” I said quietly, my lower lip quivering. I was trying really hard to keep it together. Really hard. But I felt like everything was falling apart around me.

  “Milayna, your grandma isn’t anything like Mae. It’s different circumstances. Mae was weak from not having the proper living arrangements and enough food; your grandma is strong and loved. She has everything to fight for. She’s not going out without a fight.”

  Smiling, I nodded. I wanted to believe what he said was true. And maybe it was to a certain extent. Maybe he even believed it. But I didn’t.

  My grams is old and frail. Her mind is sharp and strong, but her body started giving out a long time ago. Her apartment is hot. So hot it bothered me just the few minutes I was in it before we opened the windows. I don’t know how long Grams lay in that bed waiting for someone to come help her. Did she wonder why I didn’t come? Did she wonder why my visions didn’t bring someone to help her? Did she know that we love her? Did I tell her that the last time I saw her? Did I kiss her cheek, hug her neck, and make her feel loved? While she lay there possibly dying, did she know her family would grieve for her?

  Did she know I’d made him pay for what he did to her?

  My family and I stayed at the hospital all night and waited for word about my grandmother. Chay stayed with me. Grams was in ICU. But that was all we really knew for most of the night. It was three o’clock in the morning when we got our first update.

  A nurse took us to a small room located off the main waiting room. We were the only family there. I figured that wasn’t a good sign. My dad sat at the end of the cheap Formica table. Uncle Rory sat across from him. My mother and aunt sat next to them. Muriel sat next to my aunt and Ben sat next to my mom. I sat next to Ben with Chay on my other side. They both held my hands. One giving comfort, one accepting it.

  Ben looked up at me with his big, green eyes full of questions and worry. “Whatever happens, Grams loved you, frog freckle.” I bit the corner of my lip and tried to smile at him.

  He nodded and looked at our hands circled together. “She loved you, too.”

  A doctor walked into the room and drew my attention. He took the seat at the end of the table closest to my dad. I thought he introduced himself to us. I couldn’t be sure. I only heard the part when he said, “Um, I wish I had better news to give you.”

  That was when I tried to brace myself. I tried to dial down my emotions like a dimmer switch on a light. I tried to turn them from bright to dim—from the level where I could be hurt to a level where I’d be numb. Stupid, Milayna. It just didn’t work that way.

  The doctor’s words pulled me back to the present. “Her blood pressure is dropping to a dangerous level, and it’s not stabilizing. She’s on the most aggressive medication we have available, and she’s responding very little. Ah, also, she’s stopped breathing on her own so we had to put her on a ventilator.” He looked at the table and took a deep breath. “I…” He stopped and cleared his throat. “I like to be as honest with the families of my patients as I’m able. I’m not God. I can’t give you certainties. I can only give you my best appraisal of your loved one’s condition based on my training and past experience.”

  “We understand,” my dad said.

  I bowed my head and squeezed Chay’s hand. He wrapped his free arm around my shoulders, kissing the top of my head before he laid his cheek there.

  “I don’t believe there will be any improvement. I think her condition will steadily deteriorate throughout the night. Her organs are beginning to systematically shut down. Once this starts, there’s very little we can do. My best advice is to take this time to say your goodbyes. I’m sorry I don’t have better news. Of course, we will do everything in our power with regard to treatment until you tell us otherwise. And I will personally make sure she is kept as comfortable as possible.”

  The doctor placed two business cards on the table. “If you have any questions or want to speak with me about anything, please call.” He stood and pushed his chair under the table. “A nurse liaison will work with you from this point forward to help you navigate the decisions you’ll need to make and understand what is going on as it is happening. She’ll be here shortly. You all have my sincerest apologies.” And with that, he was gone.

  I sat on the chair and stared straight ahead. It was the kind of chair found in cheap cafeterias. I thought they probably had the same kind in the hospital cafeteria. It was kind of blue. I said kind of because it really didn’t know what color it wanted to be. It was too light to be a royal or even eggshell blue, but too dark to be white. It just had a blue hue to it.

  What a stupid thing to think of. Grams is dying and you’re contemplating the color of the damn plastic chairs.

  “Milayna?”

  I turned my head and looked at Chay. “Hmm?”

  “They’re here to take you back to see Grams. Are you ready?” Chay’s thumb moved over the top of my hand in a soft caress.

  “Yes.” I pulled him with me.

  “I’m sorry, miss, but only blood family can visit,” the young nurse said. She couldn’t have been too much older than I was.

  Blood family. That’s funny. She doesn’t have any blood family. We’re her family, and none of us are related by blood.

  “He’s coming. If you don’t like it, you can go—”

  “He’s family,” my dad interrupted before some very colorful words came out of my mouth.

  The nurse pointedly looked at mine and Chay’s hands intertwined and back at my dad. He shrugged and said, “Who defines what constitutes a family these days, huh? Grams would want him there. Either he goes or we’ll talk with your supervisor. But I warn you now; you are wasting valuable time that we should be spending with our family member. If, for some reason, we weren’t able to say our goodbyes because we had to wait on you to find your supervisor because you weren’t able to do your job, then we would hold you personally responsible for our loss. You.”

  Geez, Dad. Can you say ‘you’ one more time? I think she gets it. Although, that deer-in-the-headlights look might be a sign that she’s a little slow, who knows? Maybe Ben should draw her a picture in crayon explaining it.

  “Okay, follow me,” the nurse said.

  We walked down the sterile hallway. Machines beeped and trilled from the rooms lining the hallway, which smelled like puke and shit.

  The nurse stopped at a room, and I could see Grams lying in bed inside. She looked peaceful. If it wasn’t for the breathing tube and the other various wires and tubes sticking out of her at weird angles, it would almost look like she were asleep.

  Everyone filed into the room and gathered around her bed. They stood there, staring at her like she was an exhibit at the zoo. I couldn’t bring myself to step inside the r
oom, so I just watched from the doorway.

  After some minutes had passed, the group moved to the corner of the room and one by one, each of them walked to the bed and said their personal goodbye to Grams. They cried. Held her hand, talked to her, begged her to squeeze their hand, blink her eyes, wake up, do anything to show us she was still there and could hear us. There was nothing.

  Finally, it was my turn. Letting go of Chay’s hand, I took a step into the room. I was barely past the door. The room swirled. The colors mixed and ran together like a kaleidoscope. Looking at everything through my tears gave it an odd, watery look. Like I was looking through one of those glass water walls.

  Taking another step, I stumbled. I caught myself on the nurse’s workstation that ran along the wall. My legs shook so hard that I couldn’t walk any further. My heart beat hard against my ribs. I could feel each one. They stole what little breath my tears hadn’t.

  “Goodbye, Grams. I’m so sorry,” I whispered and turned to walk out of the room.

  Chay and I walked hand in hand down the hall leading out of the ICU. We’d just stepped through the door when I turned and yelled at Chay.

  “Don’t let the door close!”

  He reached out his arm and caught the door before it could latch. I pushed through and ran down the hallway to Grams’ room. I didn’t stop running until I was standing next to her bed.

  “Grams, it’s Milayna.” Carefully, I moved the cords and tubes out of the way and climbed next to her in bed, laying my head on her shoulder. “I’m supposed to say goodbye. I guess I’m supposed to tell you it’s okay for you to go and all that crap, but the truth is, I don’t want you to go. I want you to stick around a little while longer. Just another ten or fifteen years or so, not too long.

  “But if this is the last time I’m going to get to talk to you, there are a couple of things I want to say. First, I love you. You should know that already, but just in case I missed a chance to tell you, I’m telling you now. I love you. Second, I’ve never told anyone that your secret butterscotch brownies were from a box. I’ll keep the tradition going and make them for every holiday just like you did, and I’ll never give away our secret recipe. That’ll just be ours. Third, thanks for always letting me camp out on your purple couch. Some of my best memories are there, Grams, and they all include you.” I took a deep breath and tried to swallow past the growing lump in my throat.

  “I’m so sorry I didn’t get there sooner. But we made the bastard pay, Grams. Chay and I made him pay for what he did to you. But I’m so, so sorry I wasn’t there sooner. This is all my fault.” I started crying then. Sobs, really. My body shook so hard from the force that the whole bed moved.

  That was why I didn’t realize she’d done it at first.

  But when her soft hand cupped my cheek, I stopped and looked at her. Her eyes were still closed. The breathing machine was still doing her breathing for her and the monitors were all reading the same low heart rate, oxygen levels, and blood pressure, but there was no mistake. She moved her hand and touched my face.

  I laid my hand over hers and I swear, I swear on all that’s good in the world, I saw a ghost of a smile on her lips just before the beeps on the monitors died, showing only a flat line.

  My grams was dead.

  The funeral was almost over. A lady sang a hymn off key, but when the service ended, we’d tell her how great she did. It would be important to her—and to Grams. They were best friends, after all.

  The funeral was held at the senior citizen apartment complex so that all the residents who wanted to could attend. Most were unable to drive and wouldn’t be able to make the trip to a church or funeral home. So we had the service in the large great room with the beautiful floor-to-ceiling fireplace. All I could think about was how much my grandma loved that fireplace.

  Its mantle was covered with lilies and roses for the service. Their cloying smell filled the room. It was almost like it was a living thing and had crawled up my nostrils and camped out. It made my stomach roll over and over, threatening to spill the Raisin Bran I ate for breakfast across the floor. Grams hated lilies and wasn’t a fan of roses either, saying they were overrated. She liked peonies and lilacs. Such stupid, stupid thoughts to have during a funeral.

  Chay squeezed my hand, and I looked over at him. “You okay?” he whispered.

  I nodded.

  It was a nice service. Almost all the residents came. At least those who were still alive. Fifty-eight residents of the complex died in the ‘incident,’ as management called it. When pressed for information on what caused the incident, management, of course, couldn’t produce any. How were they to know it was a sadistic demon on the rampage because I killed its brother? And my grams was dead. Because I killed Brann’s brother.

  Because of me.

  Was I okay? Hell no, I’m not okay. I’m at my grams flippin’ funeral. That’s not okay. That’s about as far from okay as I can get.

  When the service was finally over and we’d all tromped to the graveside portion, we went back to the senior complex for the customary funeral dinner. It was somber. There was hardly any talking, just the scraping of silverware against the chinaware dishes and the occasional cough or slurp of soup or coffee.

  After five agonizingly slow hours, the day was finally over. Chay drove me home, and then he followed me when I went upstairs to change.

  “Chay, my dad’ll kill you if he sees you up here.”

  “Nah, he won’t care,” Chay said, threading a curl behind my ear.

  I shrugged, walked through the door of my bedroom, and froze. Then the tears came. The tears I’d been holding back since the day Grams died. I hadn’t cried since lying with her in the hospital bed. I just didn’t feel the need to. But when I walked through my bedroom door, the tears poured from my eyes.

  “I wondered where you’d gone,” I said to Muriel in my supersonic crying voice.

  “Here,” she answered. “We wanted you to be surprised. I think Grams would approve.”

  “She would’ve loved it,” I said quietly, looking at the black wall.

  “And you?”

  “It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” I stared at the purple couch from Grams’ apartment.

  Muriel and my aunt had left right after the graveside portion of the funeral and went to my house. They’d painted one of my bedroom walls black and put Grams’ purple couch in front of it. Black tables were attached to the walls, one at each end of the couch. They looked like they were floating. Purple beaded chandeliers hung over each one. It was cool, chic, and so Grams’ style. I loved it. I couldn’t stop crying. I wasn’t sure if they were tears of happiness or tears of sadness that Grams wasn’t there to see it.

  “If you like it so much, then why are you crying?” Muriel asked with a laugh.

  “I don’t know,” I said, brushing away tears. “I miss her,” I cried.

  Muriel hugged me tightly and said, “I know. Me, too.”

  ***

  Chay stayed until midnight that night.

  “It’s morning,” he said. “Different day, new beginnings.”

  “My grams always said that.”

  “I know.”

  We were on the back porch swing. It was one of my favorite places. I was lying on my side, my head in Chay’s lap, looking into the trees lining the back of our property. Chay’s head was laid on the back of the swing.

  “I wonder what’s taking them so long?”

  “Who?”

  “Himmel and Jord. They can’t be very happy with me, or you for that matter. What’s taking them so long to make their move? They’ve had the perfect opportunity the last few days while we’ve been planning Grams’ funeral.”

  “I don’t know, Milayna. The little garden-gnome-goblins haven’t even been around to give us any more riddles.”

  “Oh, they’re around.”

  Chay’s raised his head from the back of the swing. “Now?”

  “Mm-hmm. They’re back there, in the woods
. They hide back there sometimes.”

  “I’ve never seen them when I jump the fence,” Chay said, eyeing the woods.

  “That’s because the tree line doesn’t extend that far.”

  “Huh.”

  “Hey…” I sat up so fast the swing nearly toppled over. “Demons aren’t omnipresent!”

  “No.”

  “They can’t be in all places at once, and they can’t read minds.”

  “Right,” Chay said slowly.

  I jumped off the swing. “Let’s go catch one.”

  “What?” Chay rubbed his thumb over his lips. “I think you need some sleep.”

  “No, I’m serious. They run around like little demonic Energizer bunnies storing up information. Who knows what they could tell us. And the best part is the other wouldn’t know where its partner in crime is. He might suspect, but he won’t know.”

  “And what are you going to do after you’ve squeezed all the information out of it? Let it go so it can tell all the demons where it’s been?”

  Okay, so the plan isn’t perfect.

  “No. I’ll give it to you to take care of,” I said with a small grimace and a shudder.

  Chay stretched his arms along the back of the swing. “Me, huh? I get the dirty work?”

  “Either you or Uncle Rory. He’d love one for target practice,” I said, trying to hide the second shiver that ran up my spine.

  “Okay, I’ll play along. Which one do you want?” Chay asked with an amused grin.

  “Friendly. He seems to like me. He got mad once when Scarface mentioned Azazel wanted me dead,” I said.

  Chay held up his hand. “Wait, Friendly and Scarface?”

  “Yes. Those are their names.”

  Chay laughed at me. Laughed. At. Me.

  “What?”

  He laughed harder.

  “There’s no way you’ll be able to pull this off, Milayna. You’ve named them! You won’t be able to kill them.”

  “I won’t be killing them. You or Uncle Rory will be.”

  “But you’ll be handing them over for us to kill. Same thing.”

  “They’re demons, Chay. I can kill them if I have to.”