Chapter Twenty One
Mateo: I miss you, my wild one. When do I get to see you again?
Ophelia: I’m headed to my grandmother’s this weekend, but what about next weekend?
Mateo: Perfect. I’m taking you out next Friday night. I’ve got a surprise ;)
On Friday afternoon, Ophelia packed up her weekend bag and drove to Oakdale for the “Passing” where she would become a—no, the Traiteur of her family.
She still didn’t have a solution for how she would treat in her own community.
Where would she treat people? When would she have the time to treat between work at Healing Artists and helping at Prytania Botanica?
Did she even know enough about standard healthcare?
Bedside manners? Patient care? She had a bachelor’s in social work, but her knowledge was limited to that.
It all seemed a bit too much if she thought about it in one sitting.
Ophelia’s grip tightened on the steering wheel. She forced three deep breaths through her lungs and reminded herself that she did not have to figure it all out now. She was doing this because she wanted to carry on the family gift, and that was enough.
Turning on the oyster-paved road, she rolled down the windows of her car, taking in the pine scent, the cicadas singing, the oyster shells crackling under the car. It will all be fine, she told herself. You want this.
Ophelia recited those two lines of her favorite poem. “Let everything happen to you: beauty and terror. Just keep going. No feeling is final.”
And with that reminder, she got out of her car, grabbed her weekend bag, and walked into the Pine House.
The following morning in the living room, Mawmaw went over more treating rituals and mind-clearing techniques in preparation for the Passing. Ophelia was trying desperately to clear her mind, restarting over and over again as her thoughts wandered to the Passing.
Mawmaw swatted at Ophelia’s arm. “Child,” she scolded. “What is wrong with you? Focus.”
“This isn’t easy, and you know it, so stop acting all superior,” Ophelia snipped at her grandmother and scooted down the couch out of her Mawmaw’s reach.
“It isn’t easy, I agree with you, but it shouldn’t be this hard. Have you been practicing? What is bothering you so much that it's eating at your every thought?”
How about the fact that at three p.m. this afternoon, I will experience the worst pain in the entire world for a second and then have shit-smearing, vomit-inducing aftershocks? Oh, and what about the murders? And my tiger? And the fact that magic is somehow inexplicably real?
She was spiraling in a major way. Ophelia couldn’t tell Mawmaw about all these things. Instead, Ophelia grumbled and growled in response. “I don’t know. I don’t know. I…I…” And then an idea clicked. “I think I need to go for a run.”
Mawmaw hummed in approval. “Yes, that’s a good idea.”
“Will you be okay on your own for an hour? Do you need the restroom or iced tea?” Ophelia asked as she situated her grandmother’s walker in front of her.
“I’ll be fine. Go now and get yourself right.”
Ophelia fussed over her grandmother a bit more, ensuring she was appropriately situated in her recliner with her iPad, TV on CNN, remote within reach, and a tall glass of iced tea.
Ophelia changed into a pair of shorts and T-shirt, laced up her running shoes, and braided her long hair back.
She was already so relieved at the thought of running.
She felt calmer. Alive in an alert but peaceful way.
As she walked away from the Pine House, Ophelia selected a playlist on her phone and let the melody of the music push her forward.
Her feet began to pick up pace as she fell into a soothing rhythm.
Up ahead, a worn path into the woods caught Ophelia’s eye.
She wasn’t sure where it led, but it was likely a path created by deer.
The softer crunch of the dirt and pine needles felt better on her knees than the cracked pavement she usually ran on in the city.
She still had to be aware of roots and rocks, which provided something for her brain to focus on.
Her mind quieted. There was nothing but her breath, the cadence of her footfalls, and a melodic voice in the far corners of her mind.
This was her meditation. She just needed to figure out how to transfer it over to treating.
Thirty minutes flew by as she ran on the deer trail. She eventually reached a clearing that she marked as her halfway point and turned back to the Pine House with renewed resolve.
“Feel better?” asked Mawmaw from her recliner. Ophelia was soaked in sweat, perfectly exhausted from her run, and in desperate need of a shower.
“So much better. I’m gonna take a shower real quick. Are you good for now?”
“Wait,” said Mawmaw as she sat up further in her chair and placed her iPad on the side table. “Come see first.”
“What’s up? Need more iced tea?”
“No, I need you to soothe this arthritis in my hand.” Mawmaw reached her right hand out for Ophelia to take.
Ophelia looked at Mawmaw in confusion. “You want me to rub your hand or…”
“I want you to treat it. Go ahead. Now is the perfect time. You’re relaxed, and your mind is clear after your run. Don’t think. Just take this soreness away.”
Ophelia held her grandmother’s wrinkled hand in hers.
Ophelia examined her grandmother’s hand, tracing and probing with her own fingers over the flesh.
The palm of Mawmaw’s hand was soft and held more fat and muscle than she anticipated.
She slowly massaged the muscle below her thumb.
Her instincts told her to start there. She pressed gently and made slow circles.
Ophelia focused on her own breath and the feel of her grandmother’s hand in hers.
She made her way between the thumb and the pointer finger, massaging that sensitive muscle there.
Mawmaw’s hand twitched as she applied more pressure.
Ophelia took a deep breath to center herself and tugged on her magic, letting its healing ability flow to Mawmaw.
She could feel Mawmaw’s magic pulling hers along, guiding hers.
Her grandmother’s hand softened in hers, and Ophelia opened her eyes. She didn’t know when she had closed them.
Mawmaw’s mischievous smile found Ophelia. “Well, that feels much better. Thank you.”
“Wait, I did it?” asked Ophelia with utter bewilderment.
“You did.” Mawmaw nodded and smoothed out the muscles of her own hand. “I barely helped you, too. You can’t do it solely by yourself yet, but you will after today.”
“Holy shit.”
“What did it feel like?”
“Like total instinct. I barely had a thought in my mind. My hands knew where to go. I just wanted to make you feel better, and I guess…I guess I believed I could. So I did.”
Mawmaw knowingly smirked. “So you did.”