Garbled in the background, while this momentous challenge was underway, was Jill’s voice suggesting that Edna do her best to get on well with Grandma.
“—and try not to worry about Grandpa. He can hear, I think, and he can stand up. The way to be a good guest, Edna, is to be cheerful, to offer help, and to never need to be entertained.”
Edna had no idea why Grandpa liked to sit on the porch for the entire day, but that was his story, and she certainly didn’t expect Grandpa to entertain her. Sometimes it looked like he was going to get up, but usually that was a cough or a sneeze, and it almost always disgusted Edna. He ate on a TV tray that Grandma brought, and at the end of the day he’d come inside and go to bed. It never occurred to Edna that that had been going on, all this time, since she was last there two years ago. Edna didn’t like to think about Grandpa, and she hardly ever did.
“Grandma and Grandpa came to live out here because Grandpa was very sick. That was a…a long time ago, before you were born, but many years after Grandpa fought in a war that—”Edward told Jill not to make it so complicated.
This was the speech Jill had been selling to make Grandma and Grandpa seem more human. It was all starting to make sense: the speeches, the snacks, the ice cream in the morning. This kidnapping scheme disguised as a fun little trip was not appreciated. Edna might have at least packed her clothes or said good-bye to her friends. Instead she was going to disappear like some freak.
“Grandma and Grandpa have a phone now,” Jill reminded her.
It was a landline. Edna’s grandparents had just acquired a 100-year-old technology. It was not likely that they also had Internet. Or a computer. Edna checked her phone, a useless, pink object with games on it and no service. For all practical purposes, Edna had died. She didn’t know if she’d ever fully recover from this; she’d just gotten things perfect after changing schools over some other problem that was totally not her fault either.
“Edna, you have to be a little brave. It’s a hard life. Grandma has no place to go. There’s no one around, there’s nowhere to go to dinner—”
Edward interrupted to point out that there were a couple of restaurants, not that Grandma and Grandpa go out very much, and a few stores.
Edna silently gasped against her carsickness and the future. She rested her head by the window so air could rush over her face. The rhythmic whir of the wheels on the road gave her something else to focus on. Creosote bushes whipped past, creating streaks of green ribbon in the sand, and the road sloped up into forever, the low horizon line ahead promising an ocean of anything beyond it. Even though hell and, hopefully, a swift and merciful death were in that direction, it was beautiful and Edna was hypnotized. For a moment the whole family was.
The Audi floated up the dirt road that led to Grandma and Grandpa’s cabin, which was, for some reason, built in the middle of nowhere. There wasn’t another house or building in sight. Edna was about to spend a lot of time contemplating why Grandma and Grandpa lived where they did and wishing they lived somewhere exciting like San Francisco or New York City or London. She wondered whether, if they lived somewhere fun, this punishment would have been the same. Probably not. She wondered what worse things her parents could’ve come up with, but nothing she thought of distracted her enough. Panic still firmly gripped her chest.
A coyote crossed the road ahead as if they didn’t exist. This was clearly his desert and nobody else’s. Edna resented him for making the car slow down, prolonging the suspense for another second or two, when the dreaded shack appeared in the distance. Flanked by two stately eucalyptus trees, a dilapidated garage, and some kind of tank on stilts, the ramshackle structure was little more than a wooden tent. As they moved closer, a speck on the porch became the silhouette of Grandpa, immobile in his chair. The entire scenario was exactly the same as it had been two years ago, except two years ago Edna knew she’d be leaving in an hour. The strong figure of Grandma emerged from inside. Her hands fell to her hips like a five-star general, and her creased, emotionless face emerged in the sun.
Edna was not ashamed to admit that she preferred her other grandmother. Nanny did yoga, played bridge and ran her tennis league. None of that would be going on here. Here, there was only the blaring sky and the hard gaze of an unfriendly old woman.
The car came to a stop. Edna considered her options. She could refuse to move, but the image of her limbs flailing around while her father pulled her from the car was distasteful. She knew he could physically overpower her. She could jump into the driver’s seat and attempt to speed off, but even if she had a key to the car, she’d be caught pressing buttons before she got away. And how far could she go? She’d never driven outside of an empty parking lot. Her failed escape attempt would not set things off on the right foot with Grandma if the unthinkable happened and she was left here. Edna wished her heart would explode like it felt it was going to, or that she could think of something to do. For the moment, she had to march through this charade until she cornered one of her parents separately in an attempt to break their resolve. Her father was already taking her suitcase out of the trunk, and her mother greeted Grandma.
“I always forget how beautiful the drive here is,” Jill gushed. “We saw a coyote run right by us on the way in. Do they bother you much?”
“Not much,” Grandma replied and then said, “He got big,” referring to Brandon. “Come in, I got some drinks for you.”
She walked into the house. She had not so much as glanced in Edna’s direction. Jill stiffened a little and, with Edward and Brandon, she followed Grandma inside. Edna lingered on the porch in the eerie quiet, hoping one of her parents would come scold her for being antisocial. Then she could start chipping away at the situation. Neither of them did. She searched the open desert for what Grandpa seemed so interested in.
“Hi Grandpa,” she offered with a nervous lilt.
Grandpa’s silence was creepy enough to make Edna feel like going inside.
The “big room” was both a living room and a kitchen. It had a wood stove. A door off this room went to her grandparents’ bedroom. It was open a crack and dark inside, which was weird in the brightness of the day. A room on the other side of the big room was where Edna would sleep. She didn’t think it was possible, but her heart sank even further. Edna didn’t remember this room because it was actually a large pantry. It was old and dusty and not good enough for one night, much less a whole summer. Jill came in, and Edna’s horror was conveniently underscored by Brandon, who blurted out:
“Wow, what a crap room!”
Grandma and Grandpa’s pantry was crammed with shelves and stocked with enough cans and bulk items for the end of the world they may have been planning for. An army cot was shoved into a corner.
“I’d rather be in jail. At least a prison cell wouldn’t be cluttered,” Edna said, in spite of the lump in her throat. She folded her arms. Brandon squealed and jumped on the cot.
“Brandon, go to the car and get your sister’s blanket,” Jill demanded. “Speed demon!” The little boy darted off as the speed of light with sound effects.
“Edna, do you think this is easy for Grandma?”
“No. I think it’s a terrible imposition, and one we shouldn’t be making.”
Brandon rushed back with Edna’s pink and orange blanket, and, ever the “speed demon,” he zipped away. Edna was sure that her colorful blanket, while not quite alive, would die in this drab environment. Edward brought in more of Edna’s clothes and some books that were secretly packed in the trunk, the whole conspiracy now revealed. He looked for a place to set things down, and not finding a good one, he put them on some empty metal drums that were rusty and would surely ruin Edna’s clothes. Jill emptied out the drawers of a sideboard and put Edna’s clothes away while Edward tried to organize the toxic pesticides, among other ancient household items, that came out of the drawers. Edna felt the environment spoke for itself, and she didn’t lift a finger to help them settle her into it.
Moments later they all sat around the table for what Grandma called a glass of “pop.” Jill chatted away as if she had the power to smooth over this unseemly situation. Grandma showed the little interest she’d mustered as best she could. Seeing these two women, it became clear to Edna that her father loved her mother as a reaction to his own mother’s dour disposition. They were all acting normally, as if there wasn’t some kind of sick child-abuse scam in effect. Edna couldn’t process much that was said while still trying to conjure a way out of this. She caught part of a conversation: when Brandon asked Grandma where her TV was, Jill explained that Grandma didn’t have a TV. That being too horrible to imagine, the boy let it drop and answered boring questions about kindergarten that Jill asked him for the benefit of informing Grandma.
Edna invited her father to speak with her outside so she could persuade him that depriving her of horseback-riding camp and the use of her phone (except for two hours a day) would be equally as punitive as the current plan.
“Be right out,” he said, and he disappeared into the bathroom.
Edna had no opportunity to present her alternative; her parents jumped into the car as if they’d just robbed a bank. They’d clearly planned to drop her and take off, avoiding an unpleasant drama. The Audi’s wheels spun out as it got up to speed. Jill looked back from inside. Edna felt some satisfaction seeing her mother’s doubt about this bizarre plot already setting in. The car drifted away across the sand, and only a cloud of dust lingered after it jumped over the horizon. They were gone.
One final possibility occurred to Edna before she would succumb to the idea that she’d been left behind: this could be a very well-executed trick, the sadistic joke she’d imagined it must be earlier. Her parents were more than capable of such a simple prank. The threat of this punishment was a punishment in itself; there was
no way
they could possibly do it. A trick made much more sense, and a wave of relief washed over Edna. It was funny how serious her mother looked; she even overacted a bit. Edna was convinced that the Audi would come back over the horizon to whisk her away.
She’d tell her parents how sorry she was about everything. She’d be more careful about provoking people like the teacher’s aide, even though he was probably mentally ill and therefore lacked an adult level of restraint. While thinking of the most diplomatic way of putting this, Edna got lost in a conversation with herself: If she could learn the difference between “strained” and “sprained,” why couldn’t he? She hadn’t done anything wrong in expecting he’d know the difference between muscles and ligaments, especially if he was teaching gym. To tell the truth, Edna had no idea what she might be sorry for, other than pointing this out a few too many times. Or ten too many times. But he shouldn’t have lost control, and there were witnesses. The school wouldn’t have fired him if there were any doubt about his guilt.
Maybe her parents were still mad about the Mondell incident. Edna thought they’d all moved on. Ms. Mondell taught physical science, but that was no excuse for her disastrous grammar. Edna might have been wrong for correcting her every mistake, but it had nothing to do with the volcano experiment. She was sent to the principal anyway, and it was decided it would be best if she changed classes. If someone else had caused an explosion, Edna was sure Ms. Mondell would have understood it was an accident. Otherwise, there was only Mrs. Carson in Girl Scouts and that disgusting piano teacher.
Soon Edna noticed that the Audi had not returned. She saw little point in refining her defense. She waited longer than she thought her father would before turning back, which got to be longer and longer as she desperately recalculated how far he might go to trick her. She tried to ignore her heart’s wild pounding. A flat hum set in, and then a profound bleakness seeped into Edna’s spirit. No one was coming back for her anytime soon. She was suffocating even though she could breathe. She was not alone, with Grandpa on the porch, but he made her feel like there was less than nobody there. A few specks on the distant hills looked like houses, but after lingering on them, Edna could see they were big rocks. The space was infinite, but it was just as confining as the tiniest jail cell.
Edna took stock of her surroundings: Grandpa in his wooden chair, two eucalyptus trees in front of the porch, and wind. Nothing else. She’d been at this crossroads once already, namely, whether to stand out here with Grandpa or go inside. It was about to become one of her few considerations for the foreseeable future. Edna had never felt this desperate before. She was surprised that this desperate feeling did not cause the world to end. Things were still going on. Things still needed to be done.
She had to go in and acknowledge Grandma. Waiting any longer would be uncivilized and only make things worse. She might try to act like this was going to be a fun visit, but, ambushed and defeated, Edna knew she couldn’t pull it off. With no time to think, she walked into the house without a plan and feeling vulnerable.
Edna had a second to observe Grandma while she washed glasses and was turned away from the door. Her long, gray hair was shiny and held back in a ponytail. The energy she put into her body made her look bigger. She said, “I heard there’s been some trouble at school,” without turning around, and then:
“Come dry these and put them away.”
Her skin was leathery from the desert. Edna approached her with an almost insulting amount of caution. Grandma handed her a dish towel and then went to the bedroom. Edna dried the glasses, and her face heated up as the new reality of being left in this dismal cabin set in. She had no idea where to put the glasses when they were dry. There were only four cabinets. Their old, wooden doors were worn out around the knobs. She opened one of them. Grandma reappeared with laundry, said, “No, top right” and went outside.
Edna knew her grandmother wasn’t an affectionate person, but she was surprised that she’d not planned anything to welcome her, even if this “visit” was supposed to be some kind of punishment. Maybe Grandma was insulted that being at her house was considered a punishment. It wasn’t exactly a compliment.