Anon 01 anon, p.26
Anon 01 Anon, page 26
part #1 of Anon Series
Michelle had been doing well since her return. A little slow at first to acclimate to a normal life, Michelle was blessedly speaking, doing well in school, starting to live life with the vigor of a child. And yet something was different about her. She articulated words more like an adult than a child, and contemplated complex ideas like a veteran scholar. He was proud on one level, seeing his granddaughter blossom into a remarkable young woman, yet the rate of her learning curve was disquieting.
By comparison, Lucy wasn’t doing well. She’d slipped back into a strange coma. The doctors were unsure what to make of it.
There’s a reason, Arnie humorlessly thought, it’s called practicing medicine.
Arnie’s attack on the lawn of Faith and Cale’s old house had been a minor heart attack. No need for surgery, he was already his old self again—exercising and eating right.
Faith had inexplicably stayed in Wyoming. Over the phone the previous night, she’d said, “I’ll be back in the fall, Daddy. I still have a lot of things to work through, but…I have a surprise for you and Michelle. I can’t wait to see you, both of you.”
Land developers had torn down the church, and a new building, an office building, was being erected in its wake. No announcement had been made about what type of company or companies would occupy the building, but Arnie sensed it had something to do with Faith’s surprise. He tried not to think about it.
Holding Michelle’s hand, he walked through the corridor toward Lucy’s room in the ICU.
Unexpectedly, Michelle broke free. “Pa,” she said excitedly. “Follow me.”
“Michelle, Grammie’s this way,” he protested. But she was already halfway down another corridor, no longer listening. He broke into a trot—Lucy’s voice damning him for it in his mind—and followed behind Michelle as she sped down hallways. Nurses regarded the two of them with disdain as they passed. “Sorry,” Arnie offered. “She’s excited to see her grandmother.”
Michelle turned into a room.
Almost out of breath, Arnie reached the room and stood in the doorway. He watched Michelle crawl into bed with Fiona Sicuro.
“Michelle,” Fiona said with cheer. Despite wide, hopeful eyes, Fiona was frail, and her room stank of urine. It should have been a depressing scene but, strangely, it wasn’t.
The smiles shared between Michelle and Fiona lit up the room.
“When I last saw you,” Fiona said, “you were only a little girl, and now, look at you, you’re a woman.”
“Hi, Fiona,” Michelle said. “I brought you something.”
Michelle reached into her pocket and pulled out the swami token. Fiona took the coin in one frail, tremulous hand. “This is yours, and it looks like you need it more than I do now.”
“Thank you, sweetheart. That is…very kind of you. Let me ask, did it bring you luck?”
Michelle nodded. She continued to smile as a tear trickled down her cheek. “It did, Fiona, thank you.”
Fiona wiped Michelle’s tear away with a weak hand then held her arms out. Michelle hugged Fiona, holding the embrace for a long time.
“It’s so nice to have a visitor,” Fiona said. “All of my family is long gone, and death is a lonely thing for an old woman to face on her own.”
“You have me,” Michelle said. “You have me.”
“Thank you, dear. You can’t know how much that warms my heart to hear. Where is your sister? Where is Dawn?”
Who is Dawn? Arnie thought.
Then everything came back to him with fierce, sudden impact.
Arnie nearly lost his balance in the doorway, bracing against the frame, the name Dawn repeating over and over in his head.
“Dawn wasn’t as lucky as I was,” Michelle said.
“There, there, child,” Fiona consoled, embracing Michelle tighter.
Holding his head in his hands, unable to calm the tremors in his body, Arnie fell to the floor and wept.
Peter Giglio, Anon 01 Anon
