Green Ink: the frothings of a raving lunatic.

Who's Confused? (#confusion)

"Mom, I have soccer practice!"

"Get in the car, I need your help."

Brian sulked in his cleats all the way to his grandmother's house texting his friends his plight. His grandmother's live-in caregiver had been taken to the hospital with an appendicitis, his mother had an important meeting at work, and his father was out of town. He had to go babysit his grandmother.  

"Hi, grandma," he said walking in. 

"Hello, Steve." She replied from the chair she sat in almost all of the time. 

"No, it's Brian," said Brian. Steve was his father. He slumped down on the sofa across from her. They sat in silence. Brian texted with his friends and scrolled through social media. 

"You are going to strain your eyes reading such a little book Steve." 

Brian sighed and went to the kitchen to see if he could find something to eat. Two dozen pill bottles labeled in large print were neatly lined up on the counter. There were four quarts of prune juice in the fridge and small entrees from Meals-On-Wheels that didn't interest him in the least. He found a store-bought coffee cake that looked reasonable and cut himself a slice. 

His grandmother shuffled unsteadily into the kitchen and filled the tea kettle.

"Grandma, you aren't supposed to walk without the walker." Brian brought it to her. Then he settled back down on the sofa and answered the pings on his phone. He wished he had brought a charger. His phone was dying fast. His grandmother slowly walked back dutifully using her walker with little green tennis balls on the front prongs.

Three minutes later, the smoke alarm when off. Brian sprang to his feet and ran into the kitchen. He pulled a smoldering electric tea kettle off the stove with a towel and threw it in the sink. 
"No, grandma, no, no!" he said though she didn't hear him. The kettle was toast. He pulled the batteries out of the alarm to silence it and opened a window to air out the kitchen. 

When he returned to the living room his grandmother was gone. He wandered through the house. He heard movement in the bathroom. Feeling uncomfortable, he listened through the door. "Do you need help grandma?" he shouted. "I'm not an invalid Brian." She replied. He relaxed. 

Brian looked up as she returned to the living room. To his horror, she wasn't wearing a stitch of clothes. "No grandma, put your clothes on!" He ran and grabbed a robe out of the bathroom and tried to put it on her but she swatted him away angrily. 

"That's it! I can't do this!" said Brian throwing up his hands. "I'm calling mom." But to his dismay his phone was dead. Could he even remember his mother's number? She had made him memorize her cell phone when he was five.

He ran back to the kitchen where a phone hung on the wall. He had never used it, or looked at it. It had no buttons, though he tried to push the numbers through the plastic circular holes. He knew that wasn't right. He wiped tears out of his eyes as he heard his naked grandmother slowly walk up behind him.

"Oh, dear little boy. You look so confused," she said. "It's scary to get lost at the park. I can call your mommy. I remember her number. She's had the same one for years."

Brian watched his grandmother dial the rotary phone.

She smiled at him kindly handing him the receiver, "You can stay with me until she picks you up."