Colored Heat-Chapter 23

Chapter Twenty-Three

                I had spent enough time away from my grandmother and headed back to the hospital to check up on her.  By now, I was familiar with the area and I parked with ease and walked right in and up to the ICU.  The lady at the front desk smiled and said hello; I was glad to see that people were starting to recognize me.

                My grandmother was awake when I arrived; with the head of her bed cranked up, she was watching television.

“Hi, baby!” she said with a smile.  Her wrinkled face lit up when I came in and I gave her a hug.  She was looking better and regaining her strength and color.  “They tell me I may be able to go home tomorrow if everything goes right,” she told me.

                “Great!” I replied.  “Is there anything I can bring you?” I asked.

                “No,” she said.  “Just yourself every once in a while to keep my spirits up.”  I laughed.

                I sat there for about half an hour, alternately talking to her and just keeping her company and holding her hand.  Finally, she asked me if anything more had happened with Peter Crane.  I told her about my trip to the police station and the library.

                “You got me recallin’ things I ain’t thought about in years, baby,” she said.  “I was rememberin’ high school, and Daddy, and who knows what all.  Thought I might be dyin’ at one point, with all those memories floodin’ through, but then I realized it was just our conversation got me to thinkin’.”

                “You know,” I said, “there’s something funny going on with the bakery.”

        “What kind of funny?” she asked me.

                “I don’t know.  Somehow or other, everything is connected with the bakery at one point or another.  Lulabelle’s brother Raymond works there and is missing, and every time I look into it the bakery seems to be there somehow.”

        “What do you think that means?” she asked.

                “I wish I knew.  I’ve been thinking about something Aunt Millie said to me this morning, though.  She said that something happened a long time ago.”

        “Hm,” she said.

                “She said it had to do with Lester Sr. and some blacks and that it was a big deal for a time but then quieted down.”

                “And you think that has anything to do with what’s going on now?”

        “I don’t know.  I don’t have much else to go on, do I?”

                “No, guess you don’t,” she laughed.  Just then, a nurse came in with her dinner tray, and she told me to head home and let her eat in peace.  I told her I’d check things out at her apartment and make sure it was all set for her big homecoming the next day.

        “If I make it,” she added.

        “You will,” I told her.