The evening Bryony and I arrived back in Michigan, as is tradition, I decided to take her next door to visit Mrs. G. (or Abuela G. as we've started to affectionately call her since B.'s birth). I noticed, however, that her car wasn't parked in the driveway, so we hung out at our house for an hour or so. Finally, I heard the sound of a car pulling up next door, so I gathered B. up and we made our way over. Instead of Mrs. G., however, I found her son Frank coming out of the front door; he often stops by to check on his mother and to do maintenance on the house and yard. I was happy to see him and we greeted each other enthusiastically, but then his tone took a more serious note as he asked, "Lauren, did you put a bed in my mother's house last night?"
I had no idea what he was talking about, and told him so. "Frank, I've only been in town for an hour. Why did you think I put a bed in her house?"
Frank seemed a little confused himself. "To be honest, Lauren, I don't know what I'm talking about! My mother is at the casino today with some relatives, and she called me a bit hysterical two hours ago to say that last night she found a bed in her house. She kept saying that she put it outside, but Lauren, I've walked all over the house and looked in the front and backyards and there is no bed here!"
I was floored. It sounded really weird to me. Why would Mrs. G. think that someone had put a bed in her house? And if someone really did, where was it? Frank was worried. "All I can think is that maybe someone delivered a bed and put it on the front porch, and then this morning they realized they got the address wrong and they came back for it, because there is no bed here."
I really wanted him to be right about this theory. Otherwise, something much more disturbing was going on. Like, perhaps Mrs. G. was starting to lose it. Frank had thought of that, too. "I've heard of these things happening to older people, where maybe they dream about something but then their minds make them think that it really happened. I don't know, Lauren, maybe it's time to start looking at the retirement home for my mom again." My heart was starting to break into little pieces. Could my favorite neighbor really be starting to lose her faculties so soon after we left? And, could it be the lack of stimulation from our daily visits that was causing her mind to falter? I hoped against hope that Frank was wrong.
I decided to sit with Frank and his girlfriend at the house until Mrs. G. came home; I wanted to greet her now that we were back in town, but more importantly, I wanted to know that she was all right. A half hour later, her car pulled into the driveway, and she and two relatives got out. Frank quickly told me that he was going to talk to his mother in the back room so that she wouldn't be embarassed about her mistake in front of a room of people. I nodded absently. This was not going to be good.
As soon as Mrs. G. walked through the door, she looked at Frank (totally not noticing B. and me) and frantically asked, "Did you get it?"
My heart sagged, as did Frank's face. "I don't know what you're talking about, Mom. There's no bed here!" There was exasperation and pleading in his voice.
Mrs. G. shook her head, frustrated. "I'm telling you, it was here last night and I put it outside!" We all looked outside for the invisible bed.
Frank threw up his hands. "Mom, I'm telling you, there's no bed here! I looked all over the house and I couldn't find--"
Mrs. G. cut him off, "I told you it flew out onto the front porch!"
Flew?
Frank's girlfriend started laughing. "I told you she was saying bat, not bed!"
Mrs. G., confused, just looked at us. "Yes, that's what I've been saying all along. A bat was in the house last night and I put it out on the porch!"
We all started laughing. Because of the absurdity of the mistake, because Mrs. G. still had her druthers, because her son couldn't decipher his own mother's Mexican accent. We laughed and laughed, and then laughed some more. Mrs. G. explained her confusion the night before when Frank started suggesting that perhaps his brother had brought the "bed" over to temporarily store it; why would her youngest son bring a bat to her house to store? Frank laughed as he recounted his conversation with his younger brother about the mysterious bed and whether he had indeed brought it over to store at their mother's house? Frank kept saying, "I wondered how someone could have dropped a bed off at your house at 10pm without you knowing it because you're still awake at 10 at night!" We all laughed a bit more.
A few days later, Bryony and I went next door to visit Mrs. G. again. After a pleasant evening visit, I took the little girl home to get ready for bed. About 20 minutes after she was happily in sleepland, my cell phone rang. It was Mrs. G. calling; I assumed I had left something behind that she wanted me to go retrieve. When I answered the phone, she said, "Lauren, there's another bed in my house..."
Let's just say that this time, I knew all I had to do was open the door and let "the bed" fly out.
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