Chapter 12 #3
I needed to notify my mother and the police. Both would likely want my grandmother taken to the hospital to be examined, which was my plan, precisely.
Anchoring her on either side, we helped her to her feet. That was when I noticed her attire. I wanted to laugh at the muumuu that was no match for the church hat crowning her head.
“Granny, how’d you get to this side of town by yourself?” Justus sounded awed, impressed.
“I took the bus. I went to sit in the back in the Colored section, but the driver said I could sit up front. I told him no thanks. I’m not going to jail today.”
“You can sit wherever you want because of desegregation. Remember Rosa Parks and the Montgomery Bus Boycott? We learned about it in third grade.”
She stared at Justus, expression mildly confused. “I suppose I do.”
“Cool.” Justus didn’t seem to notice her words lacked conviction.
I bypassed her confusion, redirected the conversation. “I’m thankful you made it safely to your destination—”
“Don’t see why I wouldn’t,” Granny interrupted. “Grandma Zinnie was with me. Know what she said? You remind her of Nana Nettie, and you got the right mix of insight and compassion to be a good guidance counselor.”
I needed to kick myself again for not yet digging into our family archives to better understand this ancestor.
Right then I was overwhelmed by too much happening in too little time.
Granny’s disappearance. And now her rediscovery.
With a vanishing companion? My heart and head were at capacity.
“What compelled you to be on this side of town in the first place?”
She looked at me as if I needed cognitive therapy.
“I came for my earnings! Auntie needs her medicine and I gotta help Mama make groceries. But you see how she is?” She pointed at the burned, hollowed-out building.
“That ole Maeve Mickelson didn’t have the decency to show up.
Just trifling. That woman won’t let Colored folks step foot in her store but got the nerve to want me to sew dresses for her and her cow-looking cousins.
” She snorted disdainfully. “I’m through with her and her tacky emporium.
” She paused as Justus ran ahead to open the passenger door.
“At least that Whites Only sign isn’t above the door anymore. ”
“The whole door’s gone.”
Granny didn’t hear Justus or was too preoccupied to comment. Either way, I helped her inside as he scrambled onto the backseat, gathering items that had spewed everywhere when I’d slammed the brakes and his backpack flew free.
I kissed Granny’s temple before closing the door and leaning against it. My hands trembled. I was relieved, yet nauseous. The hours of her disappearance had been a nightmarish eternity I wouldn’t wish on an enemy. I took calming breaths, wondering why it happened.
I understood the literal reasons—Granny’s mind flowing to another place in time that had her boarding a bus to a former life. But I’d grown up in a spirit-filled family that believed in messages tucked in hidden things. Nothing was arbitrary. Clearly, I was missing something.
Or not, Nette. Like you said, Granny’s mind is doing things.
I knew it. We all did. Still, this episode cemented it in ways that couldn’t be minimized.
“Come on, Mom! We gotta get Granny home.”
I glanced at what remained of the boutique where my grandmother endured racism and mistreatment.
From the outside it appeared that the businesses on either side had suffered minimal damage, remained intact.
Only the dress shop had succumbed to flames.
I snorted and rounded my SUV thinking, God really don’t like ugly.
I entered my vehicle, thanking my son for his curiosity that led us here. Thanking God once again for Granny’s safety, I worried about the fallout of her disappearance.
As mandated reporters the police would inform Adult Protective Services. It was too wild to imagine APS misinterpreting the matter as abuse or neglect.
“Justus, text your dad and let him know Granny’s okay. I’ll call Nana.”
I dialed my mom, but the call went to voicemail. Knowing her chronic failure to recharge anything, the battery was likely dead. I called Uncle Ross, instead—all the while thinking about the current state of our clan.
Aunt Bert’s busted kneecap required surgery and rehabilitative services. Hopefully Aunt Pauletta would be able to remotely work from here. If not, I’d need to do what I had to do to assist. My sisters lived far away. Other relatives were here to rely on, but I suddenly felt overwhelmed.
I was a single mom nearing fifty with recurring headaches, acid reflux, no romance (other than a one-night stand) or partner to speak of, and a son with specific needs.
Life was challenging, but at that moment I had a sudden sense of sinking. As if this incident with Granny was the universe communicating a message that I didn’t want to hear.
I started my SUV only to pause and access my admission email from UT Austin. Reading that life-changing notification left me inhaling, exhaling deeply. Unsteadily. Resolutely.
Sis, you canNOT handle grad school right now! What the hell were you thinking?