Carmen's mere wasn't due home from work for another hour. Her pere was at Parliament installing a statue. But the house wasn't quite empty.
The old woman looked up as the door opened, a paint brush held like a wand between her gnarled first and second fingers, a blot of yellow dripping onto the sheet that covered the floor. "Hello?" she said.
"Grandmere it's me, Carmen."
"Carmen?"
Carmen looked past her grandmere to the painting. It was of a farmhouse. A man and woman stood in the foreground, staring glumly out, as a slough rooted about in the yard nearby. In the background rose a line of mountains. There was something familiar about the man in particular.
"Who's this?" Carmen said, indicating the painting, but then her Grandmere saw Ward. Her eyes lit up. "My boy!" she cried. She dropped the brush and tried to get up out of her wheelchair.
"Grandmere!" Carmen cried, darting forward, but the old woman had already slumped back into the chair. She continued to stare raptly at Ward. "Come over so I can see you properly," she croaked.
"Um – " Ward said.
Carmen shot him a meaningful look.
He moved tentatively towards the woman. "Who's she think I am?" he whispered as he passed.
Carmen shrugged.
Grandmere favoured Ward with a wide, wrinkled smile. "I knew you'd come back," she said, squeezing his arm.
"I – like your painting," he offered.
"Why thank you dear. I do miss the old farmhouse," she said. "I hope Mere and Pere can hold onto it." She frowned.
"They'll pull through," Carmen said. Of her great grandparents she knew nothing, but they couldn't possibly still be alive. It explained why they looked so familiar at least. Family resemblance.
"What brings you here, love?" Grandmere said.
Ward glanced at Carmen, who shrugged, then turned back to the old woman. "Well, we were wondering if, um, we wanted to know where you got the avory from."
Grandmere squinted out the window for a while. Finally she turned back to Ward. "I think my husband gave it to me. Yes, I'm sure he did."
"And who gave it to him?" Carmen said.
"David Nassar," she said.
The name meant nothing to Carmen, but she saw Ward's eyes widen.
"All the avory came from David. Even that wonderful flute."
"Okay Grandmere," Carmen said. "I think we've bothered you enough for today."
"What flute? Ward said.
"Ask Rupert," Grandmere Anna said.
"Who's Rupert?" Ward said.
"We have to go Grandmere, sorry!" Carmen bustled Ward out the door and closed it behind her.
"Don't forget to visit!" the old woman called as the door snicked shut. Carmen knew this wasn't meant for her.
"What's your problem?" Ward said.
"I'll explain outside."
When they got back to the vacant lot the sun was a rind on the horizon and the sky to the east had purpled. Cicadas chirred and frogs burped. The wind had come up, harrying the tall grass, and smelling of distant rain.
Carmen turned to Ward in the half-light. "When she's not talking about dead people she's making things up."
Ward just looked at her. It was the kind of look her pere gave her sometimes. She almost hated him for it. Why didn't he say something?
"There is a Rupert, isn't there?" he said eventually.
"That's nothing to do with you."
"Why can't you tell me?"
"Because I promised I wouldn't."
"Okay," he said. He seemed oddly satisfied with this explanation.
Suddenly there was a movement in the bushes and a voice said: "You there Carm?"
She groaned.
Slops emerged from the undergrowth into the clearing. "I thought I heard people talking," he said, then he saw Ward. "Oh." There was an awkward silence as both boys turned to look at her.
"Ward, this is -" she began.
"Hi, I'm Rupert," her cousin chirped.
"He's Rupert," Carmen said. "And this is Ward. Neat." She avoided Ward's eyes. "My mere'll be home soon. Come on Slops."
"But -"
"Come on."
Slops gave Ward a small smile and turned to go.
"Carmen."
She turned back to the boy standing alone in the clearing. "What?"
"Saturnday at ten in the morning. Flag Wood. Do you know where that is?"
She rolled her eyes.
"You too Rupert," he said. "Will you come?"
"Don't count on it," Carmen said before Slops could open his mouth.
"Okay," Ward said.
Carmen followed Slops back to the house. She stopped at the door and looked back at the vacant lot, but the strange boy was already gone.
Alzheimer's isn't all bad. You can hide your own Easter eggs.