Blang! Pow! Zing!
“What were you up to today?” “Well, I went for a hike with my friend, watched some baseball, and hung around the house,” I answered. “That sounds fun. I’ve just been here. Bored to tears.” Bored to tears. That was her line. I had heard it so much the last few years, it seemed like it was everywhere. Had I heard others utter the words, “bored to tears,” or did it just seem that way because I had heard it so often from my grandmother? Either way, I had a lot I had to do this evening, so I couldn’t stay at this table too much longer. About an hour ago, I was laying on the ground in my room thinking about the things that I think about, when my brother threw opened my door and asked, “I’m going to ‘In N’ Out,’ you want anything?” Knowing that he was close to leaving for Costa Rica for a month, I wanted to spend some time with him prior to his departure. I awoke from my state of semi-consciousness. “Hold on, I’ll go with you.” I straightened up and forced my bare feet into my Adidas. A few minutes after leaving the house, we drove by my grandma’s retirement home. “I should go see Bobbie later,” I remarked. “Yeah, you should.” We arrived at the spot, did our drive-through routine, and headed home. I didn’t get anything to eat, as I had already chowed a chicken kebab laffa. It was great. We were close to home and my brother was already finishing his second hamburger when we came up on the retirement facility that resembled a southern mansion. Not that it would have gone any differently, but one reason in particular why my brother was so quick to devour the burgers was that he only had thirty minutes to get home and get ready for his evening. He was going to the “Miss Ecuador Los Angeles” pageant, and I was going to hang with the oldies, walk home, and hit the computer. “Oldies.” That’s what my grandma always called them. She never wanted to be pent up, shut down, confused, or alone. And now she was all of those things. Or so she felt. “Kid, pull over. I’m going to run in and see Bobbie. “That’s probably a good idea, you haven’t seen her in awhile.” “Yeah, have fun tonight, tell Daniela I say, ‘good luck.’” Daniela is my brother’s novia,and she was vying for the title of Miss Ecuador L.A. I jumped out of the car and noticed my mom’s Four Runner.
What did I do today? It was at least 95 degrees, and may have even been getting close to touching 100 at times, but I’d still spent a decent portion of the day outdoors. I walked in the establishment, strawberry FIERCE Gatorade in hand, and signed in. “Sir, that’s the resident sign-in. Please sign under the ‘visitor’ page, please.” “Sure thing.” My grandma’s room is on the second floor, and I darted up the stairs and began to walk down the hall. An exercise room, huh. That is a lovely feature, but the only person I have ever seen in there is me, and that’s when I strolled in for the sole purpose of saying, “the only person I’ve ever seen in here is me!” The music up here is pleasant, and the lighting illuminates just enough without being overbearing, so I like it here pretty well. In no way does it possess the aura of finality. Was that laugh my mom’s? I think it may have been. But it was coming from downstairs, and I didn’t see her when I walked in, so where could she have been? I heard some clamoring, and deciding I would check downstairs prior to walking down to my grandmother’s room. Sure enough, as I headed back toward the stairs, and began making my way around the windy staircase, I saw inside the dining room and noticed the bustle. It was dinnertime. Wait. It was dinnertime! I’ve been in these situations before, was there any way I could escape out the back before anyone saw me? Come on, man, how sorry is that? Ditching your mom and grandma after you’ve already been dropped off and signed in? Just walk in there with a smile, and greet every friendly, touchy, loony in this place. It displeases me when I am touched, especially by people who haven’t washed their hands in two decades. Ssh, shush, be quiet, and shut up. In that order. I am here to see my grandmother, no getting squeamish over being touched or watching food tumbling out of mouths. As I stepped into the room, I realized that a single room harboring so many people had never been so silent. My mother was the first to see me, and she exclaimed, “Bry! Oh!” It was delightful to see her so overjoyed by my presence. “You can have dinner with Bobbie!” I sure can. Esther had spotted me by this time, and she was nice, but loved to touch me. “Hi, Bobbie,” and I gave her a kiss. The help had no problem with me pulling up a chair, and neither did my grandma’s tablemates. “Sit next to me, good lookin’! Pull a little closer, will ya?” Esther was tugging at my chair and petting my arm. “I can’t stray too far from my grandma, Esther. That wouldn’t be fair.” “You certainly are a devil, aren’t ya? A handsome devil!” My mom kissed my grandma, blew me a kiss of heartfelt exuberance, and waved goodbye. She was off to the Hollywood Bowl, as was my dad, and my brother was off to watch some rumps shake at Miss Ecuador LA.
“Do you ladies mind if I accompany you this evening?” “Ohhhhh, no. They don’t mind.” Esther flashed me the truest false smile I’d ever seen. To my left was my grandma, and to her left, Elsa. Next to Elsa, huddled fairly close but not close enough to indicate any sort of strong family unity, was Elsa’s daughter, Martha. On the other side of the square was Fern, who said nothing but still had it together. Some years ago she was gorgeous, and she was not ready to let go. She still wore makeup to dinner, bright red lipstick and cute glasses with a chain. Elsa was ready, and Esther may have been ready before I got there, but not Fern. Esther, who was still trying to inch me closer, did so with an inflamed arm. Hand enlarged twice the size of her other, and fingers lunging at me like she was Andre The Giant’s phalange stunt double. What the hell? It looked painful, but she hadn’t complained thus far. Everyone had their dinner but my grandma, maybe the holdup was the fact that she didn’t eat meat. The cook had been fired for some sort of unsavory offense, an offense that was exhibit A on the “why Bryan does not partake in rest home cooking unless absolutely necessary” meter. As a result, the cooking had been left to the orderlies, and the result was a slice of ham with a piece of canned pineapple on top, lima beans strewn about the plate. “Maybe later.” After a few more minutes had passed, I inquired, “is there a dinner with no meat, please?” “Tuna casserole.” “Great.” “Bryan, what did you do today?” “Well, Bobbie, I went for a hike, watched some baseball, and did a little work.” “Ahh, sounds exciting.” “Yeah, it was pretty fun.” With tuna casserole on its way for Bobbie, Martha had been subjected to silence for too much of the day. "Wow, Bryan, it’s great to meet you! Not too much going on here today, but we’ve made do! What is it that you do?” “Marketing and advertising.” “Oh, advertising. A bunch of sharks! Ha, ha! But I’m sure that’s not you.” She was flailing her arms and raising her voice, laughing near uncontrollably in spots. “I used to work in advertising, those sharkey sharks!” Remind me, at exactly what time did I leave the rest home and enter the asylum? Martha stared intently at her food and began ranting about the potato chips that she ate earlier in the evening. She was overweight, but it wasn’t excessive. Well, not overly excessive. “No desert for me tonight, my hand found itself in a bag of potato chips and wouldn’t let up!” She grabbed her right arm with her left hand and wrestled it away from her mouth. “I kept saying ‘No, No, No!’ But my stomach kept demanding my hand into the chips, making me eat them all! No desert for me, but I know Esther will have some. Two-time. That’s what we call Esther around here, because she always gets two deserts." Esther gazed at me and started back up with the arm rubbing. “You’re so sweet, I think I’ll only need one tonight.” I smiled. “Oh, well, the blueberry pie sure does look good.” “So do you, heartbreaker. How many girlfriends do you have?” I was just letting them run, they didn’t have too many opportunities to do so. Besides, this was one of those situations where leaving would be far more difficult than staying. Not that I could leave. Not while maintaining any semblance of self-worth, anyway. “Do you ever get scared at work?” This was a voice I hadn’t heard. It was Elsa. “Scared? Well, maybe nervous or something, but not scared, really.” Martha felt obligated to give us her opinion. “Scared? Mother, what kind of question is that? The scary part is interviewing. And leaving. Right?” She let out a hearty laugh that shook her bosoms, and she adjusted her glasses. All of the ham had been eaten, and finally the tuna casserole was brought. My grandma took a bite and a half and asked, “So, what were you up to today?” “Nothing too much. I just watched the Giants and went for a hike.” Oh, sounds like great fun.” “Just one pie tonight,” Esther winked. “Yeah, there’s always tomorrow,” I replied. “But it creeps at such a petty pace. Do you like Shakespeare?” Bobbie wanted the attention, and she was tiring of Esther’s arm rubbing and question asking. “Sure I do.” I had to get my grandma more involved. “Do you like Shakespeare, Bobbie?” “He’s fair.” “How you doing over here? That pie was pretty good, right?” “I’m bored to tears. Let’s go outside.” I stood up and began to scoot my chair backward when Esther grabbed my hand. “When at first we practice to deceive,” she mumbled. With widened eyes, I tried to ignore and go about my search for the walker. “How does that saying go?” Esther demanded an answer. Luckily, Martha had one for her. “Oh, what a tangled web we weave, when at first we practice to deceive." "Right. I like that one. Goodbye, you handsome devil. Come again." Fern nodded, "lovely to meet you." I upped Bobbie from her chair and got her settled behind her walker. "Thank you for letting me join you, ladies. Have a splendid evening, and I look forward to my next visit.”
My grandma’s room bored her to tears, as she has been reduced to watching television with one blind eye and the other stricken with glaucoma. We rolled outside, the walker with the wheels and the tennis balls, and sat side by side on a bench in the breezeway. “Pretty warm out here.” “Yeah, but it’s in the shade. If you’re too hot we can go back inside.” “No, no. I’m inside all day.” “Right. What’s that? Oh, nothing much. I just went for a hike with my friend, Danny, and watched a little baseball. Tomorrow we’re going to pick you up, and we’re all going to have dinner with you at our house. My dad is barbecuing andmaking pasta. We’ll all be together, and it’ll be a lot of fun. How does that sound?” She looked up and I knew that sounded like a slight improvement to pineappled-ham, television, and dinner with Martha.
Bryan May
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