The Passenger by Jacqueline Druga (the giving tree read aloud TXT) 📗

husband and I were the ones who found you on the road,” she said. “I’m Marge. Some call me Margorie, Margie, or like most … Maw-Maw.” She pulled forth the other chair. “Mind if I sit? Doesn’t matter if you do.” She sat. “That feels better. Why don’t you have a seat? The window seat is nice, although you might catch a draft from the air conditioning.”

Jonas backed up and sat on the bed. “They call you Maw-Maw? Who calls you Maw-Maw?”

“The little ones. But some of the little ones are grown like you and their littles ones call me that.”

“Well, some people call me Harold.”

“That’s what I heard.”

“I don’t believe it though. It doesn’t … feel right.”

“Well, if it makes you feel better, I don’t think you’re Harold any more than you do.”

“Why do you say that?” Jonas asked. “When everyone else does.”

Marge leaned forward a little. “I saw the pictures. Harold’s lifestyle is lazy. No way would he be as thin as you. Speaking of which …” She stood and walked to the other chair, reaching in the bag. “I brought you muffins. I know you have to be hungry.” Marge walked back to her chair. “I was in here once for a broken wrist. Food is bad. I know Susan who runs the food service here. She isn’t that good. Don’t tell anyone I said that. Anyhow, I would have been here sooner, but I was on a junket.”

“What’s a junket?”

“Depends on who you ask.” Marge handed him a muffin. “It could be a pudding or a short trip. I had both.” She smiled. “I went to the Sweet Corn Festival.”

“Doesn’t sound fun.”

“How do you know? Last I heard you didn’t remember anything.”

“I don’t.”

“Well, a sweet corn festival might be your thing,” she said. “Don’t knock it.” Marge inched his hand toward his mouth. “Eat your muffin.”

◆◆◆

Russ saw her before she even saw him.

It had to be her. Beatrice Whitmore. Harold’s grandmother.

Not only didn’t she look like she didn't belong in Williams Peak, she also didn’t look like anyone from Nebraska.

He watched her step from the fancy car parked across the street. She crossed the road without looking, expecting traffic to stop for her.

Even though she was dressed to the nines, face made up, hair done, all Russ could think of was the movie Bye-Bye Birdie.

The original one. The way she walked and moved, just flashed Russ’ mind to Albert’s overprotective mother in the movie. Somehow, he knew this woman was not that overprotective about Harold.

Beatrice seemed annoyed, then again, Russ knew she had cut her vacation short.

“He’s a very nice young man,” Russ said. “We will be sad to see him …”

“Yes, yes. Where is he? Where is this hospital?”

“I’ll walk you there,” Russ said.

She chuckled. “No, I’ll drive and meet you there.”

Russ gave her the ‘round about’ direction so he could get there on foot before she did and warn Doctor Jenner.

But he didn’t make it there fast enough to give him the entire rundown before Beatrice made her approach.

Doc tried pleasantries, but that didn’t work. Beatrice was no nonsense and went straight to business. A woman more annoyed with being inconvenienced than concerned with the wellbeing of her grandson.

“Can he be moved?” she asked.

“Yes,” Doctor Jenner told her. “But he should be in the hospital another few days. He sustained a head injury. And while the swelling has gone down, he doesn’t remember anything. We hope when he sees you it will come back.”

“I already have a neuropsychologist on call for when he gets to Lincoln. I’m having him transported there. He’ll be moved tomorrow.”

“We really do have the capabilities here,” Jenner said.

“I’m sure. He’ll be moved tomorrow. Now … where is my grandson?”

“This way.” Doctor Jenner motioned out his hand, then looked to Russ.

“What room?” she asked as she walked in the direction.

“Third room. Two-ten.”

“Rold-Rold,” she called out as she approached the room. “Gather your things, we will be moving you.” She stepped in the room and stopped. She looked at Jonas, then spun and looked at the doctor. “Is this a joke?”

Doctor Jenner looked confused. “I don’t understand.”

“That …” She pointed to Jonas. “Is not my grandson.” Beatrice stormed back out of the room. “You will be hearing from my lawyers.”

The Chief and Doctor Jenner stood dumbfounded as she stormed out. Doctor Jenner followed her.

Russ gave an apologetic look to Jonas. “Process of elimination. We know who you aren’t. We’ll figure this out.” Then he, too, left the room.

Jonas plopped back on the bed. “Process of elimination.” He shook his head.

Marge gave a closed mouth smile. “We will figure that out. In the meantime … she walked back over to the paper shopping bag and reached in. “I brought you some pajamas.” She handed them to him. “My son’s. They might be a tad big, just pull the drawstring.”

He didn’t look up.

“Take them,” she said.

Without looking up, he reached for them and grumbled a ‘thanks’.

“You didn’t think you were Harold,” Marge said. “Why the disappointment?”

“I don’t know.” Jonas shrugged. “I need to be somebody. Who am I?”

“Like I said, we’ll figure it out. Until then … I’m going to call you Chip.”

“Chip?” Jonas asked.

“Chip.”

“Why Chip?”

“Because I’m willing to bet you are a chip off somebody’s block.”

Jonas clenched the pajamas. “I guess I wanted to get out of here.”

Marge looked at him. “You may not be well enough to be discharged, but … I don’t think there’d be any harm in going outside. Why don’t you get dressed, I’ll fetch a wheelchair and we’ll go get some fresh air.” She made her way to the door.

“I don’t need you to do that for me,” Jonas said. “I’m okay, you don’t need to mother me.”

“I don’t look at it as mothering, I look at it as substituting.”

“Huh?” he gazed at her confused.

“You’re not Harold, but you are somebody. And I am sure you have a mother. You can look at it as me doing this for her.” Marge passed a smile and