Fight Night(53)

15.

This next part is for Grandma who likes speed and laughing. She likes stories to be fast and troublesome and funny, and life too. She doesn’t like hauling epic things around. Which is why she saws up her books. I forgot to tell you that Grandma is part Christian and part secular existentialist. Mom told me that. I just found that out when I filled out the religion part of Grandma’s hospital form. Will she want to see a chaplain? A rabbi? A priest? I read these out to Mom. Mom said Grandma wants to see Gord. I wrote down Gord.

Mom and I were standing in four feet of broken water in the little room next to where Grandma was hooked up to the hose and getting packed in ice. Two nurses came and took Mom to a different part of the hospital in a wheelchair. I ran along beside them. I did a cartwheel for Mom. One of the nurses said to the other nurse, That’s just what girls her age do non-stop. She said my legs were totally straight in the air. I did another two cartwheels for Mom and the nurse before we deked into an elevator. Mom smiled, but like she had sort of forgotten how. Then Mom was being examined. I was sitting alone in another room with a TV hanging from the ceiling. How the blazes was I supposed to turn it on way up there? I coughed from nervousness. The nurse came back and told me Mom was eight inches dilated. That was a horrific mental picture, but I nodded and smiled. I wanted to say Mom’s and my signature Zhhhhhzhus Khrssst but the nurse was all business, man. Do you know what that means? the nurse said. I nodded again. It means she’s in labour, said the nurse. Duh, no kidding, lady! I wanted to say. But I smiled and nodded again for the forty-ninth time. The nurse came over and put her hand on my arm. Do you speak? she said. I nodded fast, the way Grandma’s head does when it involuntarily shakes. I tried to let sound out of my mouth. Your mom’s gonna be fine, said the nurse. She rubbed my arm. Do you—is your—is there another adult we could call to be with you?

Dot. Dot. Dot. Well??? Someday never comes! You have to figure that out fast, when you're a kid. That’s the CCR song that Grandma loves. I play it for her in the morning to get her blood moving. ENNA-way.

The nurse gave up on me saying anything just as some words finally came out. It’s too soon. The nurse put her hand on my arm again like it was the talking stick from group therapy and she didn’t have permission to talk without holding on to it. No, honey, she said. It’s fine. It’s a bit early but everything is fine. I knew she was going to suggest that I go and get a doughnut. Why don’t you go get a snack? she said. I said, Mmmmm. I didn’t want her to go. I was waiting for her to say doughnut. Like what kind? I said. Oh, just whatever you want. Do you have money? I said, Mmmmm. How much do I need? She said that depends on what I’m getting. For instance? I said. The nurse said, For instance a chocolate bar or a granola bar is about two bucks I think, from the vending machine. A bag of chips might be less. Hmmmm, I said. And if I went to the Tim Hortons in the main lobby? Oh, well, there, yeah, you could get a snack there, that’s true. Hmmmm, I said. Like …? The nurse said I could get myself some Timbits or a muffin. I nodded. Or …? I said. You could get chocolate milk or a scone, she said. This was fun. It was like being with Grandma. She knew I wanted her to say doughnut! You could even get a … she said. I smiled. Here it comes! I thought. You could even get a bagel with cream cheese! she said. I loved this nurse. I started laughing, sort of. I slumped my shoulders. The nurse laughed. Or a doughnut! she said. I stopped slumping and jumped up as high as I could and punched the air. Yessssss! I said.

I went to the Tim Hortons in the lobby and came back with three doughnuts and stared at the TV I couldn’t reach and wasn’t even turned on. What a waste of taxpayers’ money. The nurse came back out. She said Mom was coming along nicely. I could go in and see her. When I went in, Mom was on her hands and knees on the floor and grunting and moaning. That didn’t seem to me like coming along nicely. I went over and put my hand on her back. She said, Swiv, Swiv, I’m fine, I’m fine, don’t worry. Do you want a doughnut? I asked her. She said not right then. She made a horrible sound, like a wild animal. She was turning into a werewolf. She lifted one of her arms and pawed at my throat. Um, okay, Mom, I said. Don’t forget about what I said. You’re strong. I whispered it into her werewolf ear. Gord would be too terrified of Mom now to come out. Maybe Gord would be a werewolf too. I’d have to raise a werewolf by myself. I stood next to Mom but from a safe distance. I didn’t know what to do or say. I looked around and smiled at the nurse. I wanted to tell her that I was a normal person even though my Mom was on her hands and knees growling.

The nurse left the room and I leaned over to whisper to Mom. I asked her why she was rehearsing for a play that she couldn’t even be in now because she was having Gord. Did you get your wires crossed? I asked her. She stopped grunting and snarling. The contraction was over and for two seconds she switched to being a human being again. Oh, I’ll explain that later, she said. She started moaning again and said I should go see how Grandma was doing and then come back. What a relief that was. I sprang away from her. I told her I’d be back in a second but secretly I planned to stretch that out into three minutes. Three minutes of werewolf time.

I ran to see Grandma. I got lost four hundred times in all the hallways and steel doors and forgot what floor she was on. Finally I found the signs to the ICU and followed them. The door to the ICU was locked and they had to buzz me in. It was really noisy and hectic inside, with nurses stomping and gliding around and looking serious in their blue and green uniforms with vee necks and big pockets and blue gauzy shower caps. There was Grandma! She wasn’t packed in ice anymore. Now she was almost naked. She sure will love to tell this story, I thought. Too bad there wasn’t a soldier or some other man around she could show her body off to. The nurses swarmed around her. Her eyes were sort of open. She couldn’t talk because of the hose. I ran over to her and said Mom was having Gord right now! Grandma’s eyes got bigger. Now they were really open. The nurses said, Wow! Here? Yeah, I said. Upstairs! Or downstairs. I wasn’t sure. Grandma started pulling at the hose and trying to sit up. She was going to run naked out of the ICU to see Gord! Whoops, Elvira, said the nurse. They knew her name! We need you to lie still a tiny bit longer, sweetie. Grandma shook her head and tried to sit up again. Her eyes told me to come close to her ear and tell her everything that was happening. Mom’s having Gord, I said. She’s nearby, upstairs or downstairs, in a room. She’s kneeling. There are nurses there, too. Everything’s fine. I didn’t tell Grandma that Mom had turned into a werewolf. Grandma kept nodding and making her eyes go big at me to keep me saying things. I got some doughnuts, I said. Grandma nodded. Mom’s water broke all over the floor. Grandma blinked her eyes at me. Seriously, I said. We almost drowned. I thought it was too early for Gord to be born but the nurse said it wasn’t and Mom said she’d talk about that later. This is the sound she makes. I made the sound of a werewolf, but not as terrifying as the actual sound Mom made. Grandma was laughing with her eyes. She was blinking. Tears were coming out of them.