I feel bad for her so I help her.
I twist the lid off.
“Don’t tell him you saw me,” I whisper. “I can’t say much else. I just need to go.”
Seth’s grandmother doesn’t say a word to me.
She picks up the jar of pickles with both hands and starts to drink from it.
My stomach turns and twists.
I can’t imagine that tastes good at all.
But whatever.
This isn’t about some senile woman.
This is about me surviving.
I turn and run to the door to leave.
“You didn’t even ask me how I was doing,” Seth’s grandmother says.
“What?” I ask.
“I came all this way to see you,” she says. She puts the jar on the counter and turns to face me. “Too busy for me again?”
“Uh, no,” I say. “Well, maybe. I’m in a hurry.”
“Always in a hurry,” she says. “You didn’t even look at the new spot.”
“New spot?”
“On my stomach,” she says. “You’re a doctor, right?”
Before I can respond, Seth’s poor grandmother opens her robe.
I gasp and rip open the door to get the fuck out of the house for real.
I slam the door shut behind me and open one more door to freedom.
I jump from the old wooden steps and my feet hit the ground.
I fall forward down to my hands and knees.
When I look back I see nothing.
No signs of Seth. Or his grandmother.
I do feel bad for the old woman.
But I feel bad for myself too.
Now I have to run and work my way toDSC.
I run through the yard and know that on the other side of the bushes there’s an alleyway.
I used to walk that alleyway in the middle night.