Page 17 of Coast

Chapter Five

Coast

“I’m going to go tothe store today. Anything you need?” I asked as I washed the skillet.

It had been four days since I’d taken Kiyaya to the clinic, and the improvement was noticeable, but it would be weeks before the bronchitis cleared. It also had been four days of constant arguments getting the man to take the antibiotics and using the inhaler that was prescribed. The doctor informed Kiyaya that if he hadn’t come into the clinic, he would have more than likely been in the hospital by month’s end with pneumonia. The bacterial infection was contained to the bronchial tubes but could have easily moved into his lungs, which would have hampered his breathing even more.

“Licorice, the red kind,” he answered from the table where he sat finishing the omelet and toast I’d made.

“Didn’t we buy like two packages of that stuff at the drugstore?” My nose crinkled with thought of how nasty that stuff was.

“It’s black licorice. I like the red, too.”

It didn’t escape me that my great grandfather was more than surly. I’d chalk it up to not feeling well, but he was on the mend. Not that the man hadn’t acted like a five-year-old over taking his medicine, it was that his attitude had gotten worse when I mentioned last night that I was planning to head home the next day or so.

“If you want to go with me to the store, you’ll need to bundle up. It’s windy as hell outside.” I walked to the table, sat, and picked up my coffee.

“I don’t need you to tell me the weather. I don’t need you to go to the store for me. Or chop wood or work on my truck. You can go home today,” Kiyaya said, then pushed his chair back and grabbed his empty plate and silverware off the table.

I didn’t respond right away to his outburst. I leisurely took a drink of coffee and watched as he stood at the sink, washing his dishes.

“You already tired of me being around,xwísaat, old man?”

“You treat me like amiyánash, child.”

I snorted, and he turned and glared at me. “Maybe because you have been acting like one,” I said and cocked an eyebrow and stared back at him.

“It has been good having you here,” he answered and seemed embarrassed about admitting it.

I let the fact he put up no argument about acting like a child go and replied, “I’ve enjoyed being here.” And I honestly had. I’d already planned to visit him more often, and maybe if I pushed enough, I’d get him off the res to visit me.

“Maybe tonight I let you win at checkers,” he said and smiled.

I laughed, stood, then carried my coffee cup to the sink. I placed a hand on his shoulder and gave a small squeeze, then said, “Who says I haven’t been letting you win?”

“Ha! You have always been a terrible player.” He chuckled and patted my hand that still rested on his shoulder.

“And I see you still like to gloat. You even did it when I was just a kid, too. So much for being an elder and helping to frame young minds. You could have let me win one game.”

“What would that have taught you?”

“That my great grandfather cared enough to throw a game for me.”

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