He chuckled with pleasure at my excitement. He sat down next to me, and I followed his finger as he pointed to the Dippers. I remember a deep, celestial bliss, a sense of galactic stability, which pretty well lasted until my nebula spun out of his control and a dark star crossed my firmament, eclipsing him entirely.
poppies
Lloyd spotted his wife immediately, sitting by herself at a table in the corner of the day room. She looked so small, curled over and concentrating, like a child at a task. On the floor by her feet was a brown paper bag, and she was taking things from it. As the nurse wheeled him closer, he could see they were seedpods, the size of plums with crowns at the top. She was doing Hens and Chicks, the pride of her ornamental poppies. She could no longer remember the names of these seeds, so she would need Lloyd to write the labels, but that would happen later on. For the time being she was intent on her work, poking the woody casing with the point of a pencil, making a hole, then shaking the minuscule seeds from the ovary onto a turquoise cafeteria tray that she was using as a work surface.
“Oidé yo, tané-chan!” she whispered. “Come here, little seeds. . . .”
When the nurse wheeled him over and parked him next to her, she looked up, surprised.
“Well, well!” the nurse said. “You’ve been busy, sitting here all by your lonesome!” She kicked the brakes into place and peered at Momoko. “What do you have there?”
Momoko smiled politely, then bent her head and rattled a pod. The seeds bounced across the turquoise surface like fleas. She tipped the tray, and hundreds, maybe thousands, of seeds massed and rolled together like something spreading and alive.
“Well,” the nurse continued, adjusting Lloyd’s collar. “You’ll be glad to hear that our boy did real good in physio today. He buttoned up his own pajama tops and walked to the potty all by himself.”
Lloyd groaned. “Nurse, please.”
“Even had a nice long bath, didn’t we?”
“Sheila! Please!”
The nurse made a big, pouty face. “Oooh, you’re hurting my feelings. Sheila was yesterday. I’m Shirley.”
“I’m sorry,” Lloyd said.
“That’s okay, I forgive you.” She turned to Momoko. “Aren’t you even going to say howdy to your honey?”
“Howdy,” Momoko said. Lloyd reached out and patted her hand.
“That’s more like it,” said Shirley. “Now, let’s get those meds down.”
Momoko stared at Lloyd’s hand, with their blunt, bluish-colored nails, then looked up at his face. “You so old man!” she said. “How you get so old?”
Shirley returned with a pitcher of water. “What a thing to say!”
“Shirley, please,” said Lloyd. “It’s okay. An old joke.”
“Oh, well, I guess it’s none of my business then.” She handed Lloyd his pills and a cup. “Drink up,” she said, tapping her foot and looking past him toward the TV in the corner of the room. Several patients and their visitors sat around it, watching a rerun of Rescue 911. Sirens screamed as the paramedics used the Jaws of Life to pry a family out from the wreckage of a sport-utility vehicle.
A choking sound from Lloyd made her look back down. “Lloyd? Are you all right?”
He didn’t answer. He was staring at the doorway of the dayroom where a tall woman stood, anxiously scanning the patients’ faces. He shook his head to clear his vision. He was taking digitalis for his heart, which sometimes caused an oily film to form over the world and rainbows to leak from bright objects. The woman looked unbearably bright to him. The cup crumpled in his grip, and water dribbled down his wrist. He closed his eyes, then opened them again, to blink away the rainbows. He gulped for air. He started to gasp.
“Lloyd!” The nurse sounded urgent but far away. “Talk to me! Is it your heart?”
“My pocket . . .” He plucked at the front of his bathrobe with clumsy fingers. “My nitroglycerin . . .”
The nurse pried his hands away. He could feel her fumbling for the small vial in his breast pocket. He felt his mouth gaping open, jaws stretching wide. She dropped a tablet under his tongue. He shut his eyes, trying not to hear their voices. He breathed again.
“Dad?” It was her. She was standing close by now. “Oh, my God. Is he okay?”
The nurse checked his pulse. “He’ll be fine. Who are you?”
“I’m his daughter. I didn’t mean to shock him. I called ahead. I talked to Sheila. She was supposed to prepare him.”
“Oh, well, that’s just fine,” said Shirley. “She never told me anything. They weren’t expecting any relatives.”
“Dad?” the woman said.
Lloyd opened his eyes, but he couldn’t bring himself to look up. He looked at his wife instead. The expression on her face was distant and perplexed, but as he watched, it lit up like the hills when the sun broke out from a cloud. She rose to her feet.
“Yumi?”
His wife’s voice was unearthly. The dayroom fell silent, except for the odd whoop of an emergency vehicle on the television, as Momoko hurtled forward, into the woman’s open arms. Lloyd closed his eyes again.
“Mom?” The word sounded odd, choked and breathless. “Oh, Mom .. .” It was a sigh this time.
It was too much. “That’s enough,” Lloyd whispered. “Take me away.”
He felt the nurse hesitate, and then she kicked off the brakes. “A lot of excitement for one morning,” she said, wheeling the chair around. “I think we’ll feel a whole lot better after a little rest.”
“No, wait!” Now the woman was standing in front of his chair. “I want to talk to my father.”
He covered his face with his hands. His knuckles were swollen, and his fingers were like plugs. “Let’s not make a scene . . .” he pleaded.
“Dad, please don’t do this . . .”
He recoiled farther into his chair, but she stood there, blocking his way, and it was like no one would ever move again or say another word. But then Momoko broke the silence.
“Damé!” she said. She picked up the turquoise cafeteria tray as though she were about to head off down a buffet line, but instead she flung it above her head. The air around her filled with a cloud of black seeds. He could feel them, raining down on top of him, like a tickling wind. He watched them bouncing crazily off the tabletops and skittering across the floor.
“My goodness!” the nurse said. “All these seeds!” She started brushing them from the folds of his bathrobe, then dabbing with her finger at the ones on his head.
“Stop it!” he said, jerking away. “Take me out of here!”
Shirley shrugged and gave his head a final swipe. “Too bad,” she said, swinging the chair around. “But who knows? Maybe they’ll grow.”
“Yes!” Momoko clapped her hands. Then, spotting the pitcher of water on the table, she picked it up and marched over to Lloyd.
“Poppy!” she said, peering down at his face. “Same like father. Get it? It is good joke. Ha, ha.” Then she poured the water onto the seed-speckled carpet at his feet. “Okay, poppy. Now you grow up!”
She walked behind the chair and elbowed the nurse out of the way. Gripping the handles, she