Divine Garbage

Panicked shrieking filled the air. He’s fallen again, was my immediate reaction.

As I hastily made my way to my father-in-law’s room, images of his last fall flashed before my eyes. How could it have happened again?! Just a few short weeks ago, he’d been so badly injured, people had said he was lucky to be alive. It seemed a miracle he wasn’t left paralyzed — how many broken necks leave a spinal cord intact? Crossing the hallway, I uttered a fervent prayer that this time should not be any worse.

I found Grandpa on his feet. Waiting for me with accusing eyes. And yet, even as I allowed myself to breathe, I didn’t know what to make of his wild gesticulations. “Where is it?” he cried. “Where?”

“Where is what?” I followed his right arm as he brought it up over his chest, his fist clenched tightly in despair.