Salting Grandma

Salting Grandma

James

When I think about last Tuesday, I remember parts of the incident that my family, for some reason, has blocked out or something. Not like it was that traumatic an event or anything... well, I guess it could have been, if you took it the wrong way. But, I mean, that's what April Fool's is all about. You catch people off-guard, they flip their shit, and then you go on with your lives. It's kind of like death. If you think about it too long, or mourn for too long, you might as well be dead.
Like I was saying, they don't remember the same things I do. You hear my grandma's side of the story, and it's all horseshit. Well, to them it might not be. But to me, the mastermind behind the project, it's different. I actually understand what happened. I think I'm the only one who does. It's not like the prank killed her or anything, you know? I mean, hell, how was I supposed to know that it could even make somebody sick? You eat salt in everything. It's in everything. I bet there's even natural salt in sugar, if you used a microscope.
You know when you say something and you mean it to be totally light-hearted, or silly, or you don't even think it makes sense which is why it's appealing to you? And then you say it, and someone takes it totally the wrong way? And then they say things to you like, 'You should have known,' or 'You hurt me on purpose,' and you want to stand up and scream at them in the face, 'Chill out! Get over it! Maybe it's your sense of humor that's fucked up, not me.' But, you usually don't, because that takes so much more work than bowing your head and saying, 'Gee. My bad.'
I first got the idea for the prank a few weeks ago, when I was watching some free soft-core porn on late-night t.v. For some reason, the main dude - the seducer - was a cook, and the only thing that could turn on this rather horrifying-looking woman was the smell of cooking onions. (I thought it was a pretty kinky setup for a porno, too.) Anyway, the dude reaches over the onion that has been cut and ripped up into a million different sized chunks, and grabs this seasonings shaker, right? And I thought to myself, well now, I've never cooked an onion with sugar before. And then I realized it wasn't sugar, but salt. And then I thought about how easy it would be to switch the salt with the sugar for April Fool's, and give the coffee-drinkers a little morning excitement. In the show they ended up furiously fucking on the kitchen table. They didn't even eat the onions. They rolled around in them for a while, though. Their sweat made the salty, garlicy slivers even more limp, which allowed them to stick fairly easily to the twisting and moaning bodies on the screen.
So on Tuesday morning, which was April Fool's, I woke up 30 or so minutes earlier than the rest of the house, and I poured the sugar into a baggie, poured the salt into the sugar cup and double-checked that the coffee was set to brew. There was no point in going back to sleep, so instead I stuffed my body in between the couch and the stereo. That's the place I like to be. I call it my 'cubby spot,' even though it's not a cubby. When I stick my body there, though, I get the same sort of feeling I used to have when I was little enough to have a real cubby with my name on it. My name isn't anywhere near this cubby. It's in my room in a few spots, but my room doesn't need a cubby. That would kind of be like a cubby inside a cubby.
Anyway, that's about it. That's my whole story. I accidentally fell asleep in my spot, and was awoken to the sounds of my grandmother spewing and hacking. Her eyes were all watery, I remember, which I'm not sure should be attributed to her specific situation or simply old age. Then she kind of hobbled, like old people do, to the bathroom.
I don't really see the big deal. So she got a little weirded out. I'm weirded out every freaking day. I mean, hell, who has sex on a kitchen table?


La Verna

When I was a young kid, or a teenager or however they like it nowadays, I used to shake it up a little. I would joke around, do interesting, funny things to make people laugh. I would come up with neat expressions and I could do things with my mind that other people couldn't. Basically, I knew how to have fun. There isn't anything wrong with fun. Let me tell you.
But, in today's world? When I took that first sip of bitter, bitter coffee on Tuesday morning, of course I didn't think that someone was playing a trick on me. I thought that there was mold in my cup, or that someone put rotten milk instead of water into the coffeemaker. When I saw James' eyes, though, I realized the spoiled, rotten fluid sloshing in my puckered mouth was his doing. I really wish you could have seen his expression. It was like, it was like... it was like something just, lit up in James or something. Like he had been waiting a long time for this victory.
I got really sick, you know. I probably vomited for 10 or 15 minutes. My stomach is very weak anyway, and this, first thing in the morning? I didn't stand a chance. After a few minutes, my daughter Lorrie came in to see if I was alright, and rubbed my back until I was done retching the poison out of my body. When I told her that it was because of her son, she didn't believe me. She told me that it was in my head - that I've had it out for him and that there is no reason to accuse him of trying to hurt anyone. That's the last thing he'd want to do, she told me. Well, I know what I know, and I know that it was James. And I know he knew what he was doing.
That's what it has to be. Victory. He's resented me as long as I can remember. I don't know what it is about James, exactly. He used to be such a nice, thoughtful boy. We would go shopping together and then come home and cook. I always liked baking things like cookies and banana bread, but he liked to cook. He especially enjoyed sauteing onions. I remember one time when he forgot to turn them (he was young, very young, and still learning from me) and the onion bits turned this awful black, charred color on one side. And the smell. The smell was unlike any onion scent I've ever experienced. And I've experienced a lot of things.
You know, I used be alive. Really, really alive. I haven't always lived here or done the things I'm doing now. I actually was in Spain for a few years back in the 80's. That's where I learned what coffee and salt is supposed to do to you. I remember accidentally putting salt in my coffee, and having a waitress ask me if I drank too much the night before. (It was all in Spanish, of course.) I didn't understand what she was talking about, but then she explained that the popular way to induce vomiting (normally used for super-intoxicated people) was to drink coffee and add salt. So, James might think he knows a lot. He probably thinks he knows more than me. But, he's so much younger.
That's the thing. Young people, they don't understand that I'm not only 72. I'm also 56. And 12. I've been to four continents and 19 countries. I've been to 42 of the states, and am still in school. Right now I'm taking sculpting classes. If I get 70 credits I have to graduate from the program, so I'm asking for many extensions so I can utilize the wood shop for as long as possible without paying for it. You see? My mind is still sharp. My body isn't as strong as it used to be, but my mind's still here. Even when it leaves me, all that life experience will make up for what I lack in imagination.


Cathy

I knew, the second he told me his April Fool's plan, that something was going to go wrong. Not like he would listen to me, though. Not like he listens to anyone. I mean, after seven months and $4,600 in psychic training you would imagine a little faith, especially for your own mother.
I remember hearing my mom getting sick when I was still in bed, procrastinating pulling off the comforter. First I heard her slippers slapping against the wood really fast - much faster than she would have moved usually. Then the bathroom door clicked, and the gagging noises brought me to my feet (somewhat reluctantly) and then beside her.
I was confused at first. My mom hardly ever gets sick - ever since she got put on her heart murmur medication, her diet's been pretty restricted, so she doesn't really consume things that are unsettling to her stomach. So anyway, there she was, and when she came up for air I got her to tell me what was wrong. She said something about James, and immediately I realized what had gone wrong with his plan - he had salted (if you will) the wrong family member.
See, James and his father Scott have been at odds for some time. Their political theologies don't quite agree, and they've reached the stage in their relationship where neither one speaks to the other without yelling or crying. James thought this would be a good way to ease the situation a little with is father. Sure, it's an odd solution, but James thought it would work. And, well, knowing his father... it actually could have worked, come to think of it. Ha! Men.
But, because the wrong one was salted, all hell broke loose. When James' father found out about the grandma incident, he reacted in a manner I have never seen before. The rage he had inside him - it's really hard to explain. He wasn't particularly physically violent; it was more the things he said that wrecked us so bad. Things to James about being a complete disappointment. He told him he was ashamed to have a son that would be so inconsiderate, so spiteful, he said.
And of course all of this took place in front of grandma, who just stared at James with this smug, awfully smug expression on her face. She only turned away from the battle once, and that was when my husband told James to apologize to mom's face. He was going to do it, too. But she turned away. That riled up Scott even more.
I don't really want to talk about this anymore.