Sym sat at the kitchen table, she hadn’t turned on the light, preferring the darkness, turning over in her hands the small Ketsuri statue she had taken from the entrance. She wondered if this was a bit like how Grandmother felt, waiting in the uranium mine. Alone and devoid of hope. She wasn’t sure what else she could do for Grandmother. She had thought Grandmother was doing better, but instead she had just gotten better at hiding. Maybe she could see if there was a support group, see if there were others that had gotten over their addictions that could help. But Grandmother would only get better if she wanted to. And Sym wasn’t sure she did.
The door opened. Sym waited, putting down the statue, silent as stone. Like the granite Grandmother had been trapped in. Her heart hurt at that thought. If she had been trapped like that, wouldn’t she want to escape too? Did she have any right to take away Grandmother’s safe haven? She did her best to suppress that feeling. Grandmother needed help. And there were better, more healthy ways to cope. Maybe it was time to push for therapy again, maybe it had been enough time to talk about the trauma of the cave.
Grandmother turned on the light, jumping when her eyes landed on Sym. ‘Sweetheart! What are you doing sitting in the dark! You’ll hurt your eyes!’ Grandmother would know all about the effects of darkness on a person, Sym thought with heartache. ‘Where were you tonight?’ she asked softly. Grandmother looked at her sharply, pupils trembling. Then she smiled, a shaky thin quirk of her lips, ‘I was out getting groceries for dinner, sweetling. I’m thinking you and I can have a special dinner while Posao is out! I was thinking some homemade ramen might be a nice treat, really get in the salt while your Mother’s away.’ ‘Uh huh. And what else have you been doing while she’s away?’ Sym’s voice was tight, she wouldn’t let Grandmother distract from the grim truth at hand. ‘Sweetling…I, I’m sorry.’ Her breath quickened, uneven, coming out in short pants. ‘I just, you were both gone, and the house was collapsing in on me, the walls…the walls were just too. Too close.’ She finished her chin trembling, eyes out of focus and watery, before closing her eyes tightly. ‘I just felt, if I didn’t get out, the house would swallow me up. I’m sorry.’ She repeated, softly, as if to herself.
Sym sprung up, wrapping her arms tightly around the woman whose big presence masked the frailty of her frame. Her Grandmother shook in her arms, big silent sobs wracking her. Sym rubbed her thin back in soft soothing circles. ‘I don’t want to feel this way anymore! I can’t! I can’t,’ her Grandmother cried. ‘I know. I know.’ Sym repeated, trying her best to convey the depth of her emotion to one of the few people she treasured unconditionally in two simple words and one strong embrace.
They had made cup ramen instead, and curled up close on their second hand couch to watch soaps indulgently. Grandmother fell asleep with her second cup in hand, Sym pulling up the blankets to cover her before slipping into her room. She sat on the edge of her bed, her head in her hands. Now that she wasn’t comforting her Grandmother, she could break down herself, tears dripping quietly down her face as her shoulders shook with the intensity of her silent sobs. Careful not to wake Grandmother, she didn’t want to hurt her like that. It was so hard to see her Grandmother fall apart. The woman she was used to seeing as strong, happy, confident, directly conflicted with this broken woman she had seen today. It had shaken her.
She sat up. This wasn’t going to help Grandmother, and it certainly wasn’t helping herself. She needed to make a plan. Should she tell Mother? She already had so much on her plate. It felt cruel to add something else, something so weighty. No, she decided, there was no need to. She could take care of this herself. Grandmother needed help and not the kind either she or Mother could give her. Grandmother needed a professional. She would look up therapists that specialized in addiction tomorrow.
She wasn’t sure that she believed in the gods, but Grandmother did. She folded an origami cochineal with a red painted prayer to Ketsuri written on the inside of the paper and placed it on the sill of her cracked window. If she woke up tomorrow and the ink was gone, Ketsuri would have heard her prayer. It would be alright, she repeated to herself as she slipped off to sleep.
