Taylor Matheson drove into the driveway of the Resthaven Seniors Villa with only mild trepidation. He was visiting his own flesh and blood, he rationalized, no need to get the heebie jeebies. Better late than never, he said to himself, looking almost self-consciously into the rear-view mirror.
It had been a long time since he’d seen Grandma. He hadn’t meant to stay away, not really, but there had always been more important things to do than visit Grandma. Now that she was safely tucked away in Resthaven, it hadn’t seemed to matter as much. After all, she was being well cared for – wasn’t she? At least, that’s what they’d assured him the last time he’d bothered to phone. Was it really six months ago? It hardly seemed like yesterday, he mused.
Looking around, he noted that nothing had changed since his last visit any more than he had expected it to, anymore than he had expected Grandma to have changed. He could almost bet she was sitting in the same chair he had left her in that last time he’d taken the time to visit. When was that anyway? Jesus, he thought, I can’t even remember anymore.
Grandma had insisted on bringing her favourite rocking chair with her – said she wouldn’t go without it. And so it had reluctantly been shipped off with her to Resthaven, along with the few other meager belongings she had cherished most over the years, other than the essentials which were purchased brand new for the occasion.
“Yup,” he said out loud, “she’s probably worn a path in the carpet by now rocking back and forth, and forth and back all day long. And she’s probably turned the nurses deaf talking to Grandpa, though he’s been dead at least a dozen years – I think.”
Walking up the front steps after parking the car, he noticed the clutch of old women sitting on the veranda watching him, their eyes cloudy and rheumy. Old busybodies, he thought to himself, nothing better to do than watch the world go in and out these doors.
Shrugging off their stares, he passed through the doorway into the nursing home lobby. Ignoring the stares of the assorted old people decorating the lobby, he made straight for the nursing station at the same time jogging his memory for the name of the administrator that he should see first. Klemer – of course, Mrs. Nadwick Klemer – with a name like that he always wondered why he had so much trouble remember it automatically.
“Mr. Matheson to see Mrs. Klemer,” he said almost disdainfully to the nurse on duty. He knew they’d talk about him as soon as he was out of earshot, especially since it had been so long since he’d visited Grandma, but he would not give them the satisfaction of seeing him grovel in front of them.
“Mr. Matheson, so good to see you again. It has been awhile hasn’t it?”, said Mrs. Klemer, coming out of her office and extending her hand as she came toward him.
Taylor took her hand matter-of-factly and released it as quickly, the look in her eyes a poor mask for her feelings. She has something to tell me about Grandma, he thought, but it can’t be good because she keeps avoiding direct eye contact.
“I have something very distressing to tell you, Mr. Matheson,” she said almost reluctantly. “Come with me into my office where we can be more comfortable. This will take a few minutes, I’m afraid.”
“What is it, Mrs. Klemer,” he asked, with about as much emotion as he could muster, “has something happened to Grandma?”
“I’m afraid so, Mr. Matheson, I’m afraid so,” she replied, closing the door after him.
Motioning him to the nearest chair, she went around to the other side of her desk and adjusted her seat as she sat down.
“Now where were we? Oh yes, about your grandmother. I’m afraid it’s been a while since we saw you last, Mr. Matheson, too long a while really. When the problem first came up, we tried to get in touch with you, but they told us you were out of the country on vacation. They had no idea when you’d be back and we couldn’t wait, you see. We did the best we could for her under the circumstances.”
“Can I see Grandma now?”
“Of course, Mr. Matheson,” replied Mrs. Klemer rising from her chair again. Opening the door, she followed him out in the corrridor before he stopped, uncertain where to go now, and she took up the lead.
“This way, Mr. Matheson.”
Dutifully following her, they made their way down the corridor to the end and around the corner before stopping at Room 135. Reading the letters clearly printed above the room numbers, Taylor’s mouth dropped open.
“But this is the storage room, Mrs. Klemer. There must be some mistake,” he said, regaining himself.
“No mistake, Mr. Matheson, I’m afraid. We couldn’t wait for you, you see – and we did so need her room. I hope you’ll understand when you see her.”
Taking a key from her pocket, she inserted it in the lock and turned it, the door opening silently. Edging her arm around the corner, she turned on the light before entering the room. Keeping hold of the doorknob, she opened the door fully so that he could see.
There in the corner of the room sat Grandma as he had last seen her. Sitting stiffly, her bony hands clenched around the armrests, he expected her to begin rocking at any moment. Her eyes, a steely grey where once they had been a bright blue, stared fixedly at him and her lips formed a perpetual smile he had never seen before.
“We hope you approve, Mr. Matheson,” continued Mrs. Klemer. “As I said before, we really couldn’t wait any longer, and we knew you’d like to see her one more time and say goodbye properly. I think the mortician did a wonderful job under the circumstances – don’t you?”
Stunned, Taylor could only stare at the thing that his grandmother had become. In his mind he could hear her chastising him for neglecting her when she needed him most. But at the same time, he could see her in the artificial light of the storage room smiling at him, smiling with the artificial smile of a ventriloquist’s dummy.
He screamed then, and as he did, Mrs. Klemer closed the door so that no one else could hear outside the soundproofed walls. Sinking to the floor, he clutched the folds of his grandmother’s dress in his shaking hands and cried like a baby.
Seeing she could do no more for him, Mrs. Klemer left the room, closing the door behind her.
As she walked down the hallway to her office, Taylor began talking to his grandmother, unintelligibly through his tears at first, then more distinctly as his crying subsided.
“Rock me, Grandma,” he called out in a distinctly childlike voice, “rock me like you used to.”
After Satan negotiates a pact with God and unleashes his army of demons, a secret sect battles a diabolical prophecy that threatens humanity.
Release Date: November 21, 2018
