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“What makes you think that, ma’am?”
“I wasn’t the best mother to my son, but I know him and I know he needs you. I have zero doubt in my mind that my son loves you and I am going to get you back for him,” she said, her voice giving way to emotion before she began to weep. “A mother knows these things, so please just trust me. Will you please come?”
I thought of Memaw and her advice that had always stuck with me.“If your heart is speaking to you, Bobo, you listen. You must never ignore your heart,”she’d said.
“Yes, ma’am. I’m on my way.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR: Hayes
Twenty-Four Hours Earlier
I’d stopped going to my office. In fact, I’d stopped going anywhere. The calls and questions never ceased and no matter how many times I asked the callers to spell out how I could help them, I’d hang up and forget the entire conversation. After a day or so of that and licking the to-go containers clean of any leftovers from momma’s visit, I’d also stopped visiting the kitchen. I’d banged a can of tuna against the corner of the counter top but that didn’t open it, once again the location of the can opener eluded me.
On the second or third day of getting out of bed to go to the bathroom, I found that even that small bit of effort was too much for me to accomplish. The more I stared at the bedroom walls, the hazier they became. I was fading in and out of consciousness and tried once to crawl to the bathroom for water, but didn’t get far. I couldn’t get back on the bed after the failed attempt and wondered where my phone was. I considered that perhaps I might need an intervention. Oddly, I thought I was too tired to feel tired. Was that even possible?
I remembered once when I was a child, I had a bad fever and Momma had been concerned to the point that she took me to the emergency room. They’d told her that a temperature of a hundred and four was dangerously high for a child and she should have brought me in sooner. Her reaction had been burned into my mind that day, and she handled my sicknesses with extra care after that visit. Momma never took chances again in regards to my health, almost to a fault with her over worrying about my welfare. The look on her face a few days ago when she’d visited was exactly how she’d looked that day when I was five.
“Momma,” I whispered, lying on my back and seeing her face on my ceiling. I tried lifting an arm to her but the weight of my arm was too much. “Are you coming for a visit?” I asked. “Oh, Momma, I need a can opener when you come over.”
The room got darker as the rays of light filtering through the blinds faded with the setting sun. I listened as the air conditioner turned on and then off in perfect thirty-minute cycles. I tried to count the times so I could figure out how long it would be until another morning arrived but I kept falling in and out of consciousness.
I dreamed that I would open my eyes and the stranger in the shack would come visit me again. I’d washed up on his shore and he’d found me, nursing me back to health with love. Where was he now?
My eyes opened and the room was full of bright light. I waited. I listened. “There you are,” I said, making note of the first cycle of cool air. Calmness swept over me and I felt lighter as I slipped into the comfort of sleep.
* * *
My eyes popped open from the shock of being hit and I attempted to reach for my face where the slap had made contact, my skin was on fire from the rude awakening, but my arms wouldn’t move.
“Mr. Crawford! Mr. Crawford! Are you awake, sir?” she screamed, shaking me to see if I was dead.
“Momma?”
“No, Mr. Crawford, it’s Mary, your housekeeper. Your Momma asked me to stop by this week,” she said, holding my hand and kissing it.
“Okay, Momma, I will,” I whispered. I heard the beeps of a phone as my visitor’s fingers hurriedly dialed. “You found my phone?” I asked.
She ignored me. “Oh my God, yes, yes, thank you for helping. I need an ambulance at 4505 Palmetto Court. My boss is incoherent and I don’t know how long he’s been on the floor,” I heard momma say.
“I’m fine, Momma,” I whispered. “You’ll see.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE: Bo
“Ibelieve I’m on his visitor list,” I said to the nurse behind the counter. “His mother, Katherine Crawford said she added me.”
I watched nervously as her fingers flashed over her keyboard. She stopped suddenly and I watched her eyes read notes in what I assumed was Hayes’ file. “Yes, here you are Mr. Dawson,” she confirmed. “Mr. Crawford is in a private suite. You can follow me.”
I followed the studious looking woman to the end of the hallway where a door separated the hall I was in from another one on the other side. “More rooms?” I asked.
“Only one, sir,” she corrected. “The Crawford Family Medical Suite is located here.”
“That explains the name on the building,” I offered.
“That is correct, sir. Stanford Crawford was a major benefactor to the hospital,” she explained. “Mr. Crawford’s room is on the right. You can buzz me if you have any further needs.”
“Is he alone in his room?” I asked. “I mean, are there any other visitors or doctors I should be aware of?”
“None, sir. The doctor checks in every four hours and Mrs. Crawford has strict protocols that you and she are the only guests allowed to visit her son.”
