Gary A. Braunbeck - Cages and Those Who Hold the Keys

His last few words were so soft Marian could barely understand what he was saying, so she looked up at her mother but Mom was staring down at her feet like she did when she wished things weren’t happening, so Marian reached up and took her hand.

“Close the damn door and take your shoes off,” said her mother, turning away and wiping something off her face. “I’m just getting ready to fix us some hamburgers.” Marian wondered why Mom was telling Mr. K. that, because they’d just finished doing the supper dishes; they’d already had hamburgers.

Mr. K. was taking his boots off when Mom turned lack around.

“And I don’t want hear any of this shit about you getting a room at the ‘Y’ or anything like that. If you help out you can stay here as long as you like. Just don’t get in my way too much.” She turned back into the kitchen, then called over her shoulder: “And I don’t allow liquor in this house. Read me there?”

“I read you,” said Mr. K. He looked at Alan and Marian, tried to smile, raised an eyebrow, and released a breath that sounded like he’d been holding it for years. “So,” he said, “you two are Alan and Marian, huh?” “Yes sir,” they both replied. “Don’t you all be cablin’ me ‘sir’, that’s too formal.” “What should we call you?” said Alan. “I’d be your grandfather, boy. ‘Grampa’ will do just fine.”

The next few weeks were a great time for Marian and her brother. Grampa taught them how to play Poker, how to make meatloaf and homemade bread, told them stories about how he fought in the war, helped with the dishes, and even did a lot of extra work on the house for Dad. Eventually Mom allowed Grampa to buy some beer, but only in a six-pack and only once a week. This seemed to make Grampa happy because he and Dad could drink while they were playing cards and smoking cigarettes. Marian really liked her Grampa, and so did Alan, but neither of them understood why Mom wouldn’t talk to him more. When they finally asked her she just shrugged her shoulders and said, “It’s of no concern to someone your age.”

Grampa began getting some kind of checks in the mail shortly after he came to stay, but he never spent any of the money on himself— aside from a six-pack and a couple packs of cigarettes; he always gave a lot to mom, then spent the rest on Marian and her brother. Clothes, records, a new board game, whatever they wanted. And he always had such wonderful stories t:) tell them.

Toward the end of his first summer with them the card game became less frequent and he took to watching television. His favorite show was Hee-Haw and, even though she and Alan hated it, Marian would watch it with everyone else. Grampa seemed to enjoy having company while he sang along— always off-key— to the country music songs.

By fall all he did was go shopping once a week. He couldn’t help Dad much with the house for some reason, and Mom wouldn’t let him cook because she said he needed his rest.

Every once in a while Grandma came over to see how he was doing. Marian knew that her grandparents had not been married for a long time, but never asked anyone how come, or why Mom seemed to be made at Grampa about something, or why Grampa was doing all these things for them.

Winter rolled in and Mom rented Grampa a hospital bed from the drug store. Grampa seemed happy when it arrived because, he said, the sofa was starting to get to his back. When the checks came he insisted on paying the rental fee for the bed, but because of that he couldn’t buy Marian and Alan anything. But they didn’t mind that at all.

It was the first of December when things started going sour. Marian hadn’t realized how sick Grampa was until then; he dropped several pounds in a short period of time and began spending more time in bed. He always kept apologizing to Marian and Alan because he didn’t feel well.

One afternoon Marian and Alan came home after doing a little Christmas shopping, loaded down with presents from a small curiosity shop two blocks away. Both Mom and Dad were working extra shifts for the overtime, so the only person home was Grampa. They came through the door, set down the presents, and were just heading up stairs to get the wrapping paper and tape they’d stashed earlier when Marian heard Grampa call her name. He was in the bathroom, which was just off the kitchen, so Marian came back down and stood by the closed door.

“What is it?” she said.

“Could you...?” His voice trailed off and a terrible sound came from him. The closest Marian had ever heard to that sound was from a small child down the block who once fell on the sidewalk in front of their house and scraped his knee badly; the child fell, rolled over, took in a sharp mouthful of air and held it until he was shaking from head to heel, his face turning red, his veins pounding in his head, but then he finally released the scream—

—but not before he let out one hideous little squeak! before the cries exploded. That little squeak was the sound that followed Grampa’s “Could you...?” “Grampa?” said Marian. No answer. She knocked on the door. “Grampa? Do you need some help with something?”

Squeak!

Marian pounded on the door with her fist. “Grampa! Grampa do you need—”

And from the other side of the door, so quietly she almost mistook it for the sound of her own breath leaving her throat and nose, Marian heard Grampa say one word: “...help.”

She tried to yank open the door but Grampa had used the little eye-hook on the other side, and try as she did, pulling with all of her strength, Marian could not get the door to open, so she ran over and pulled open the cutlery drawer and took out Mom’s biggest cutting knife and jammed it deep inside the crack beside the door and pulled it upward, then had to turn it around so that she was pushing it upward, instead, and somewhere she could hear Alan calling for her, asking what’s wrong sis what is it but she couldn’t answer him, she needed to hold her breath and answering him would mean she’d have to let her breath out and if she did that she’d never get the door opened and if she never got the door opened then Grampa might die, so she closed her eyes and gritted her teeth and pushed up with knife as hard as she could, making sure to wiggle it from side to side as much as she could (a villain on The Green Hornet had done something like this once) and just when her arms were throbbing and her shoulders were screaming and she felt like she was going to pass out from being so dizzy, three things happened: she felt the hook wrench from the eye, heard the thwack! of the metal against the doorjamb, and released her breath it one massive puff; then she threw down the knife and threw open the bathroom door and saw that Grampa leaning against the sink, shaking, his face so red and sweaty Marian thought he might scream, but he never did, not once, not ever, because he was too busy gripping the sides of the sink, his wrinkly old arms looking like old sticks you used for kindling in the fireplace, and she realized that Grampa had been trying to sit down on the toilet when he got sick or felt the pain or whatever it was that happened to him, because the toilet seat was up and his pants were halfway down his legs but his underwear had gotten stuck and they had a big red stain spreading all over them and the more the blood spread the more Grampa shook and squeaked, and he pulled away one hand and said ... “...these damned underpants, I can’t never...ohgod...” and he tried to grab hold of them with one shuddering hand but he couldn’t reach them, it hurt him too much, but then Alan was there, on his knees next to Grampa, grabbing the ruined shorts and pulling them down so they could get him on the toilet, and they did, she and Alan, Marian holding him around the waist while Alan took hold of his legs and they eased him down onto the toilet seat and all the time Marian just wanted to cry for how much Grampa was hurting, but Alan was being the big cry baby, whining over and over Grampa I’m so sorry you’re so sick I love you I don’t want you to die , but then Grampa was on the toilet and breathing okay, his face wasn’t as red now, that was good, and Marian almost smiled when he looked up and winked at her.