I didn’t expect a change. Sure, there was a tiny seed of hope, but, really, I knew what I was getting when I wrote that check. What I didn’t anticipate were changes so slow that I hardly noticed. Five or six months passed before I noted any. When a small hummingbird zoomed next to my window toward the feeder, I saw the movement. It took another month for me to link it back to Jakey’s investment.
The next time he came, I wasn’t facing the window. I was watching jeopardy. “Hi Jakey!” I smiled up at him, admiring his brown curls.
Jakey dropped onto the sofa, dejected.
“Hard day at school?”
“Work, grandma. I’m working now. I got a job in an advertising agency. It sounded perfect, but I spend all day every day getting coffee.”
“Sometimes you’ve got to start as the grunt and wait for your chance; sometimes you’ve got to make your chance.”
He pulled his head from his hands. “Grandma, that was the longest sentence you’ve spoken in years.”
“Yes, but did you listen?” I teased.
“Of course! I always listen. I’ve listened my whole life.” He settled a little closer and took my hand. “Dad said you were the sharpest woman he knew.”
“How is your father?” I asked, concerned.
“Doctors say he’s okay. It was a mild heart attack and in line with what they’ve been warning him about for the last five years. Maybe he’ll take the hint and finally retire.”
I chortled a little. “Your father doesn’t know how to relax, he knows how to start businesses. Convince him to help you and you’ll make millions.”
“He doesn’t believe in my ideas.” Jakey shook his head.
After a moment of silence, he turned himself to face me a little more. “Grandma, your breathing sounds better today. Are you feeling better? Did you want me to read to you? Where’s our book?” His eyes began to scan the room.
“I am better.” I smiled at him, eager to tell my news, but nervous that it might just be a really good week. “I haven’t seen your blue eyes in over a year.” I stared into them. Just like my Aaron’s eyes. Blue as the ocean.
“Grandma?” His eyes widened. “You can see me?”
Again I chortled. “I can.”
I saw the wheels turning, spinning fast. “You’re feeling and sounding better. It’s the fountain of youth!”
I didn’t want to get excited, but I’d been thinking the same thing. Yet, honestly, how? Even if it was real, we lived in the age of capitalism. Someone would have exploited it or set up a tourist town around the fountain. I found it hard to believe that no one knew.
“We need to start documenting this,” he decided. “I’ll be back tomorrow with journals and a camera. We’re going to take pictures every week and write down all of the improvements—”
Unfortunately, aside from improved eyesight and better ability to breathe, there wasn’t much to document…at least not yet.
Jakey followed my advice. His father retired, and Jakey hired him as a business consultant and partner to help him start an advertising tech agency. The combination sounded a little thin, but the two banged their heads against the wall long enough that they got the project off the ground. The hardest part wasn’t writing out the hundred-thousand dollar loan to my favorite grandson, the hardest part was that he didn’t have as much time to come and visit anymore. The next time I saw him was my ninty-first birthday.
“Grandma!” Jakey burst through the door, the rest of his family in tow. He hurried over and gave me a gentle, but heartfelt hug. “Grandma, I want you to meet someone. Be nice.”
Beyond him, a demure little creature who looked both high maintenance and demanding stood uncertain in the doorway. Her uncertainty faded as soon as Jakey slipped an arm around her waist. “This is Valentina.”
“Where are you from?” I chirped.
“Valenzuela, originally.” The barest hint of an accent slipped out on her country’s name. “But we’ve lived here most of my teenage and adult life.”
“Y como le gusta mi nieto?”
She blushed, and that made me smile. “Es un hombre gentil y poderoso.”
“Hey now,” Jakey looked between us, “no secrets.”
Paul pushed past his son in the wide hallway and carried in the sheet cake. “Connie?”
“Dale,” I corrected. “Connie left a few minutes ago.”
Paul frowned. “Mom, your medical expenses have dropped considerably from what they were last year. Is she giving you all of your medicines?”
“Everything I need.” I nodded at him and turned my chair to follow as he stalked into the back.
“Dale!”
Dale came running out from wherever he was hiding. Where Connie at least watched her soap operas in the living room where I could see them, whatever Dale did was upstairs where I couldn’t quite follow.
“Yes, sir?” He huffed a bit, flushed at being caught away from his post.
“My mother’s medical costs are down, do you know why?”
Dale bobbed his head. “Yeah, doc visited yesterday and he took her off her breathalyzer. She hasn’t used her inhalers in more than six months, and he says her lungs sound stronger than they ever have.”
Paul’s frown deepened. “What does that mean? How does a ninety-year-old woman’s scarred lungs suddenly get strong enough not to need her steroids?”
At this Dale ducked, the timid man had no answer and hated when Paul’s tone lifted.
“Paul, it’s okay. I feel stronger. I asked to be re-tested for everything and the doctors agreed that I don’t need as many medicines as they had prescribed.”
“What?” He spun to face me, concern his dominant feature. “I’ll speak with them tomorrow.”
“Dad,” Jakey tried, “just look at her. Compare her current coloring with how she looked last time.”
Paul did look, really looked, but his concern only deepened. My eyes met Jakey’s and we had a quick, unspoken conversation. The progress was slow but undeniable.
“Let’s enjoy my birthday.”
Paul conceded and didn’t speak of it again until the party closed and everyone else faded away. Valentina brought her own vehicle, and Jakey encouraged her to head out with a promise to meet her later. Paul sent his wife home as well. As soon as the door closed, he turned on his son. “Jake? You know something.”
“Paul,” my tone warned him: the stern tone that demanded a response. “Come and sit at the table.”
Paul looked between us and finally dropped hard into my defenseless chair. I cringed as the wood cracked a bit. Jakey took the seat across from me and took one of my hands. He rubbed lightly on the skin.
“Your skin feels stronger. The spots are less too.” He said softly.
I nodded, then turned my attention to my son. “Paul, I’ve got something a little unbelievable to tell you. Keep an open mind.”
His brows rose in that way that said he already had his walls up.
I gave a small sigh. “Promise that what you learn today won’t leave this room?”
“What does that mean?” Paul turned a glare toward his son. “What have you done?”
I reached my aged hand across the table and touched his. “Do you promise?”
Jakey met his father’s gaze, not ashamed and willing to accept the man’s anger in light of the success. Finally, Paul gave in and nodded.
I started at the beginning, rushing over the borrowed funds, and explained the slow progress of my body over the course of the last nine months. “I can see you,” I ended. “I can see your face, and your pursed lips, and your furrowed brows. I can see your salty, grey hair and the lines under your eyes. Paul, do you understand? My body is healing.”
He took it about as well as you’d assume, but at least Jakey’s business didn’t suffer.
Now, let’s skip forward five years, because that’s the point at which we realized there was a problem.
I leaned against the counter and held the small bag of brownie mix by one corner trying to seem like I wasn’t helping. “Yep, shake it a little and get it all in there.”
My great-grandson, Orem did as I suggested and brownie powder floated out of the mixing bowl. We both laughed and I started him with the spatula while I threw away the trash and wiped a quick rag over the counter. I stood back and watched while he worked the apple sauce and eggs into a gooey mess, then pushed over the pan. “Go ahead and pour it in.”
While I set the temperature on the oven, I heard keys in the front lock.
“Grandma?” Jakey’s baritone carried from the front.
“In the kitchen,” I called, returning to Orem’s side to help scrape the edges. “Okay, bowl is for you, spatula is for Gracey, but not on my carpet,” I preemptively scolded while he ran off with the tools.
Jake hurried into the kitchen, expression worried.
“What’s wrong?” I slid the pan into the oven and started the timer.
“Grandma, come and sit.” Jake walked into the room with a young man. The kid was about ten, but the look on his face settled me into my chair quickly.
Jake didn’t often bring me charity cases, but every now and again a young man or woman needed a scholarship for school or a startup loan for a great idea. In the last year or so, Jake had enough extra funding to handle most of these himself.
Once we were all settled, my grandson licked his lips, fidgeted a bit, and then met my gaze. “Grandma, do you remember Malekai?”
“Malekai?” I struggled to recall anyone by that name and finally shook my head.
“Malekai was the one who went on the trip to collect the fountain of youth water for you.”
I looked over at the boy and saw a spark of fear and anger shiver through him. “Malekai?” I guessed.
“Yeah,” his high-pitched voice shot back.
I blew out an unsteady breath and met Jake’s gaze a second time. “So, what does this mean?”
“Malekai has spent the last four years, as soon as he realized the problem, searching for a cure to his cure. So far, nothing.”
“Nothing?” I prompted.
Malekai dropped his head onto his arms. “Nothing, as in, there is no way to cure this, or at least, not one anyone I’ve reached out to can find.”
“So, you just keep getting younger?”
He nodded miserably. “I’ve got about three more years to live if I keep going at the same rate.”
The blood drained from my face. “Well there has to be something.” Not even a week ago I’d pulled out my old photo albums comparing my current reflection to my old pictures. Aside from my still-missing teeth, I looked about seventy-five. I’d already figured out the rate; the same as Malekai—about three years backward for every one we should have moved forward. I had about twenty more years, but this poor kid—
Jake shook his head. “I’m giving everything I have to the cause, grandma, but so far, I haven’t found a solution. I’m so sorry.”
I squeezed his hand noting that mine no longer ached like it had a few days before. The realization brought relief and a shiver of fear. “I don’t blame you. You gave me exactly what I wished for. I’ve gotten to see my family grow.”
“And a death sentence to boot.” He took my hand in both of his, eyes downcast. “I swear I’ll fix this.”
Brushing aside his useless apologies, I turned my attention to Malekai. “So, what have you tried?”
“Voodoo, witchcraft, healers, herbalists, trips to remote locations where monks or other spiritualists reside—”
“A deal with the devil?” I chuckled at my own bad joke.
Malekai shook his head. “Can’t find him yet, but I’ve got people looking.”
“And what about your family?”
“My parents get letters once a month letting them know how I’m doing, or, how Malekai is doing. Me, I just run around and try to avoid the law who assume I’m some delinquent.”
“That’s a solution then.” I nodded my head and stood, tossing my dish apron onto the counter. “Jake, you’re already in charge of my financial affairs. Will you stop in once a month to make sure my house hasn’t burned down?”
“What are you planning grandma?”
“Can you stop calling me that?” I grinned at him with a wink, “I’m younger than your father now.”
Jake paled at that, not quite willing to joke yet. “Zelda? No, I can’t call you that. Can I just say Z?”
I rolled my eyes at him. “Alright. Will you do it?”
“You know I will, but that doesn’t give you permission to go get yourself into trouble. I’ll stop putting money in your account each month if you get yourself hurt,” he bluffed.
“What do you know about trouble?” I chided. “Malekai will keep me in line.”
“What do you have in mind, Z?” Malekai squeaked up.
“I’m going to act as your guardian, and we’re going to travel a bit more. Can we start with the guy with the map who says he’d drunk it before?”
Malekai’s eye lit with a bit of hope, but it defused quickly. “I already tried that route. He’s dead.”
“From?”
“Young age?” He shrugged. “De-growth? Whatever you want to call it. He’s already dead, and I’m about there as well.”
“Now, don’t give up hope. I haven’t been thinking about the problem quite as long, but catch me up on what you’ve done so far and we’ll take it from there.”
Yeah.
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