The Matchmaker's Medium

disease, always forgettin’ who everybody was. Most of the time, I just felt bad for him, but when he got to hollerin’, it was hard to feel anything for him but mad.”

I knew, firsthand, how bad Alzheimer’s could be. My own great uncle had it when I was a teenager. Even during that rebellious, you-can’t-make-me phase of my life, I was instantly brought to tears by his raging, senseless rantings. The few times I saw him, I wished with every fiber of my soul that he would die so I would only have to see him in his ‘muted’ version—motions and actions, with no sounds. I shuddered at the memory, a physical response I wasn’t expecting.

Jamal bent toward my line of vision, his head sideways, trying to make me laugh. It didn’t work.

“Okay, so…you’re in the kitchen, it’s 10:31 a.m. and your grandmother’s just standing there. Is she trying to tell—I mean, show—you anything?”

“Not at first. She was just standin’ there. That’s why I thought she was just doing her normal thing, checkin’ in on me or what have you.”

“Is that what she usually did?”

“Yeah. Just lookin’ at me, smilin’ a little, like she was glad I was doin’ all right.”

“Is that what she did while she was still alive?”

“Pretty much. She was a quiet lady, real nice and all. Granddaddy was the one who talked a lot, tellin’ all these stories all the time. I don’t think I take after granddaddy’s side of the family at all. They never know when to shut up.”

Jamal suddenly plopped down into one of the chairs, he was laughing so hard. I couldn’t help but smile a little, with his deep laughter echoing in my ears. Victoria wasn’t as amused, though.

“Is something funny?” she asked, her giant face turning an interesting shade of maroon.

“What? Oh, no, no. Sorry. I was thinking about my great uncle, who talked all the time.”

She seemed to calm a little, her face slowly returning to its original, splotchy white-and-pink color.

“Well, that’s about it for the first day, I guess,” she said, dabbing at her forehead again.

“She didn’t come back that night?”

“Nope. Just stood there for a few minutes while I was puttin’ the groceries away, then she was gone the next time I looked up. I didn’t see her again till the next night.”

“And then she—”

“That’s when she started the whole ridiculous charades game.”

“What does she do when she ‘plays charades’?”

“Like I said before, she acted like she had the steerin’ wheel in her hands, then a big crash thing.”

“I thought you said she only did that last night?”

“Did I?” she asked, looking genuinely confused. “Well, maybe I was wrong. Could be, she maybe started doin’ it that second night after the accident. I’m not rightly sure, now.”

This is like digging for treasure in swampland, I thought. How do I always end up in these situations?

“Does she ever come to you anywhere else? Or just the kitchen?”

“Oh, lord, yes. She comes to me in my room, or out on the porch, even in the laundry room, one time. She ain’t shy about where she shows up. Just shy about sayin’ anything. Or maybe she can’t say anything? I never thought of that before. Whatta you think, Amber?” She started to get off the couch, but couldn’t quite seem to get the energy or momentum. After a few tries, flailing her arms a little in the process, she finally gave up and leaned back into the cushions. I am really going to the gym tonight, now. No matter what else happens. Ugh.

“I think you’re right. She probably can’t talk or make any noise. Most of the spirits I see can’t, either. Only a few special spirits can be heard.”

Of course, Jamal picked this moment in time to wander closer, excitedly pointing to himself, as if to say, Me! Me! I’m special!

“You can actually hear them?” Victoria asked, totally amazed by the concept.

“Yep.”

“Well, what do they say to you?”

I shrugged, “It’s different every time. Some of them want me to help them, but others are trying to help me. It just depends, I guess.”

“Are there any spirits…here?” she asked, motioning to the room, her eyes wide with anticipation.

I looked over at Jamal, who was suddenly very adamant that he was not in the room. Now you want to be invisible? I asked him silently. He nodded, big up-and-down bobbing movements, almost cartoonish. Oh, fine, I thought. He sighed in relief.

“No, not right now.”

“Oh.” Her disappointment was palpable, and almost a little funny, in a sad-funny kind of way. Not ‘haha’ funny, but ‘aww’ funny.

“So what’s next?” she asked.

“For what?”

“Like, do we hold a seance or something? Ask my grandmamma to come and talk to you?”

“No, I don’t need to do a seance. If she were here, I could just talk to her like you and I are talking right now.”

“And you’re sure she’s not here? She didn’t, maybe, follow me?”

I chuckled a little. “No, she’s not here. And, yes, I’m sure.”

“Well, can you look for her? Can you ask her to come here? I need to know what she’s trying to tell me. She looked so worried! D’you think she’s trying to warn me about something? Oh, lord, what if it’s the dia-beetis? Or the big C? Oh, lord, oh, Jesus!”

“Calm down, Victoria. If it were that serious, she’d be here right now, trying to get my attention. Since she’s not here, it must not be too important.”

She sighed loudly, visibly relieved.

“Maybe you could just go home and rest, and call me if she appears to you again tonight?”

“I s’pose that would be all right. But first, I have to call the body shop and see if my car’s fixed yet. I can’t have the taxi totin’ me all over the place, and I’m not payin’ for no danged renter car, neither!”

Jamal stood and walked to Victoria, looking at her with new interest.

“Which shop?” he asked, pointing from me to Victoria, Ask her.

Rolling my eyes, I asked, “Which shop is your car at, Victoria?”

“Oh, it’s over to that Spanish fella’s place, down 49. Y’know, that one where it has the big sign about replacing your window-shield for free? I used ‘em once, when I got a e-normous crack in mine, from a rock spit out by a semi. They just called my in-shurnse and I didn’t have to pay one red cent!”

Jamal said, “She needs to tell you more.”

What? Why?

“Just keep her talking.”

I’m gonna kill you for this, I thought. Wait. I mean—hell, you know what I mean.

He just laughed again. Glad I’m keeping you entertained, Jamal.

He gave me the thumbs-up signal. Jerk.

“How long did they say it would be?”

“Hmm? Oh, they said it should be done today, but I already stopped there before I came here, and it wasn’t ready, yet. So rude when folks tell you a time, then don’t stick to it. I tell ya, it’s the times we’re livin’ in, that’s what it is. Ever-body livin’ in sin, and nobody takin’ responsibility, that’s what it is.

“Who’s your mechanic?”