Fight Night(44)

Why did he say that? Was Mom fighting Willit Braun? She’s in a play, I said. Ken asked what play, but Grandma and I couldn’t remember the name of it. Then Grandma and Ken talked about how exciting it was that Gord would be born soon. What a trip, man! Won’t that be cool having a little … said Ken. He held his arms out. We don’t know what Gord is, I said. Gord is Gord! said Grandma. Lou is Lou! Let them be! Grandma says that when Mom goes scorched earth. Just let her be!

I am letting them be! I told Grandma. I was just saying we don’t know what Gord is! Grandma sang let it be, let it be, let it be, lord let it be. I told her lord wasn’t the right word. The right word was yeah, let it be, not lord, let it be. She’s right, said Ken. It’s yeah, not lord. Okaaaaaay! said Grandma. From the top. She sang it again but still used the wrong lyric. She did it on purpose. She just likes opportunities to say lord because it makes her feel like she’s praying.



Lou called and said he was home. Ken said he’d drive Grandma over there. Before they left I shoved Grandma’s nitro spray into her little red purse and put it right beside the front door, but naturally she forgot it because she was trying so hard to show off all the Beatles songs she knew. She put the word lord into “Don’t Let Me Down.” Ken didn’t tell her lord wasn’t in that song. He’d figured out that she just likes putting lord into songs whenever she can.

I stayed at Ken’s house by myself for fifteen minutes until he came back. I went into the different rooms and saw pictures of Mom when she was a kid. She looked normal, believe it or not. I saw a picture of Mom holding me when I was a baby. I saw a picture of Lou when he was young with his arm around a beautiful lady. I thought about how Jude was beautiful too. Grandma had told me that all of her six thousand nephews had beautiful wives and girlfriends except for one. He didn’t care about all of that, he cared about social justice and rainforests. But then he and his wife got a divorce so I guess he started caring about it after all. I thought about the thong under our bed. I shivered. I looked at Mao. I was as tall as he was in the picture. I went into Ken’s bedroom and saw a picture of Jude with her shirt barely on. I screamed. I noticed that my feet had left marks in the carpet in his room. I tried to smooth them out but I made it worse. Finally Ken came home and I tried to keep him from going into his bedroom and seeing his carpet. We played backgammon, Ping-Pong in the garage, speed, super speed, crazy eights, suicide eights, Uno, Skip-Bo and charades. Finally Grandma phoned and said Ken could come and pick her up if he wanted to, but she could also walk, no problem! It was such a beautiful night. Ken had her on speaker phone. I shook my head. She can’t walk, I whispered. She’s just saying that. She’ll definitely die. I sliced my throat with my finger. Ken nodded. He told Grandma he’d be right there. It was so late. No wonder Grandma had watched all those people dying in Fresno. Americans don’t really understand that old people like Grandma can’t sail around and drink whole bottles of wine in the sun and sing all day and visit with people all night long.

Finally, we were all in bed. Jude had come back to Ken’s house after her book club to sleep with him in his bed. She said she loves getting massages from Ken and they use eucalyptus oil! She said Ken has such big, warm, strong hands. Ken looked at his hands. Oh boy! said Grandma. Well, have fun!

Jude said, C’mon, gorgeous. She wanted to go to Ken’s bedroom and start getting oil rubbed on her. Away you kids go! said Grandma, even though Ken was one hundred years old. I’m glad you’re still doing it at your age! said Grandma.

I froze for one second and everything got blurry. I ran into our bedroom and stared at Mao and counted to ten. Grandma came into the room, laughing. Who is that again? she said. MAO! I yelled really loud. Like everything was his fault. I dove into the bed and pulled the blanket over my head. Grandma brushed her teeth in the adjacent bathroom and talked to herself about things falling onto the floor but we could find them in the morning—which meant that I would find them in the morning. In the morning I can’t bend, said Grandma to herself, and in the afternoon I can’t remember! Finally she came to bed. We were lying two feet above Jude’s thong. I thought how Willit Braun would not want to be in this house right now. Grandma told me she was so happy that we’d come to Fresno. She moved her head to look hard at me and said, Thank you, Swiv, for coming with me. She was being so serious. You’re welcome, I said. It means so much to me, sweetheartchen, she said. I mean it. Thank you. Okay, you’re welcome already! I said. I thought about Gord, about how I’d try to be serious with Gord sometimes because it felt a bit nice. For one second. Hoooooo, said Grandma. Are you having regular bowel movements here in Fresno?

Why did she say here in Fresno? Is that another problem with this place? I put my pillow over her face just for one second. She grabbed the pillow and hit me over the head with it. I took it back and put it under my head so she’d stop play-fighting and focus on living. I really needed to see Lou and Ken, she told me. People other than Grandma would have been talking about how they’d almost died from over-drinking and sailing that day, but not Grandma. I think she’d forgotten about all that. I really needed to talk with Lou, she said. What did you talk about? I asked her. We just talked about the truth! said Grandma. Is he suffering? I said. Well, of course, said Grandma. On and off. Everybody needs to let Lou be Lou. What’s his house like? I said. Oh! said Grandma. It’s amazing! Every room is filled with things that he’s found on his walks. Amazing things. Objets d’art! Beautiful, beautiful antiques and you name it, Lou’s got it. He has a hammock strung up on the porch. Does he have a bed? I asked. Somewhere in there, I assume, said Grandma. He has a roommate, too, who is lovely. Is she a beautiful lady? I asked Grandma. In fact, she is! said Grandma. I don’t think they’re sleeping together, though. Oh my freaking god. Grandma! I’m gonna suffocate you for real! Lou calls her The Presence, like the Dalai Lama, said Grandma. She’s an artist and also takes care of the plants at a mall. Lou used to live in the garage after his heart attack but now he’s in the house. That’s the great thing about California, said Grandma. You can live in a garage year-round!