By Cithara Patra
“I saw Grandma in my dream last night. Oh, she was there in the morning.” My son Joey fluffs his pillow before resting his head on it. He pulls the dull white hospital sheets over his body. My heart aches to see my little boy preparing for his surgery tomorrow, but he’s holding it together. It’s a small procedure to remove his adenoids and he won’t be here for long. Still, my worries grip me while he fiddles with his phone.
“Did Grandma say anything to you?” I doubt Joey heard much in the dream. My mother passed away when he was three years old, so he barely had time with her. She doted on him when she was alive though he remembers none of it. “Did she tell you to be brave?”
“No, she told you to be brave.” He locks his gaze with mine, lowering his head. “She knows you’re scared, but you don’t have to be. I’ll be fine.”
“I know that.” I lean over to kiss his forehead. His forehead damp, I eye the remote control for calling nurses. “You want to turn down the thermostat?”
“I’m all right. Grandma says it’s okay for me to call someone if I need it.” He pushes the remote control away. “Also, if you’re hungry, you can get some peppermint truffles from the vending machine.”
“Peppermint truffles?” I hold back a laugh. “Honey, vending machines have things like chips and maybe Hershey’s candy in them. I don’t think any vending machine would have chocolate truffles. They’d be too expensive for most people.”
“Still, she told me you can get some cause they’re your favorite.”
“I had them once, honey. A long time ago. I liked them, but I wouldn’t call them my favorites.” I walk towards the door. “All right, I’m going to take a quick break. Do you want me to get you anything?”
“No. Grandma says you should get the truffles before someone else does.”
“Sure.” Joey can’t let that go. Much like my mother, he sticks on something until it’s taken care of. “I’ll get something if I’m hungry.”
“Get the truffles.”
Clutching my change purse, my stomach grumbles as I head to the break room. I need to breathe. I need to get away from talking about my mother. Joey will be fine for a minute. He’ll be all right if I head to the vending machine and_
“Oh!” The gasp hits my lips as my purse hits the ground. My eyes scan for something to eat in the almost empty vending machine. My stomach churns as I find one thing in the very bottom corner, the one thing no one bothered to get. I don’t want it either, but it’s the only thing I can eat now.
I grab my purse and put in the money to get my only snack: a bag of peppermint truffles.
Cithara Patra currently lives in NC. They’ve written for a few literary journals including Poetries in English, Instant Noodles, and 50 Word Stories. In their spare time, they travel, solve logic puzzles, and check out local restaurants.
Academy of the Heart And Mind 