The Heaven & Earth Grocery Store by James McBride

Author:James McBride [McBride, James]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2023-08-08T00:00:00+00:00

16

The Visit

Chona lay in a private room on the top floor of the Reading hospital on a wing normally reserved for the critically ill or the dying. That was what the gentleman from Philadelphia, a rich theater owner of some kind, had insisted—and paid for—in cash. “I want it quiet,” he told the nurses at the station on the floor. He was apparently used to giving orders, which caused some resentment among the nurses. There was a rumor that the Jewess in 401 was from nearby Pottstown and involved in some kind of lawless fracas. They had not seen many Jews on that floor, nor did they see many Negroes like the nursemaid who sat next to the woman’s bed all day, her face often buried in a Bible. The Negro rarely smiled. She talked to staff directly in a terse voice. She was arrogant and disrespectful, the nurses decided. To make it worse, the Jew husband came and went at odd hours, not to mention there seemed to be Negroes shuffling in and out of that room all day. It was a bit much—rich Jews paying for private rooms, flooding the floor with Negroes. This country, they murmured among themselves, is going to hell in a handbasket.

Addie was unaware of these comments, as was Chona, who for four days lay comatose and presumed to be in a second coma from which, the doctors said, she was not expected to awaken. Addie was not so sure. Each morning Chona would stir, mumble, then fall back to unconsciousness. The first day, Addie thought nothing of it. But after three days of it, she suspected that the woman inside that body was alive.

Addie revealed this to Moshe when he arrived on the third day with Nate, with whom she hadn’t spoken since the incident. The two men walked in looking exhausted, explaining that a three-day set with a Yiddish theater troupe out of Pittsburgh doing Hamlet had taken a lot of setup and break-down time.

“So long as the people liked it,” Addie said. She tried to sound reassuring.

Moshe ignored her and sat without a word at his wife’s bedside. He was a mess. His shirt was soiled, his jacket worn. The bags beneath his eyes looked nearly big enough to hold eggs. He stared at Chona several moments, then said, “Anything new?”

“She’s trying to get it out.”

“Get what out?”

“That thing she does in the morning. She does it every time.”

There was a Jewish word for it, Addie knew, but she couldn’t remember it. “It’s a ditty. A prayer thing. She’s trying to do that. Every morning. For three days now.”

Moshe stared at his comatose wife, glanced at Addie, and waved his hand. “Leave us for a while,” he said.

Addie and Nate retreated to the hallway. Noting the baleful stares of the nurses, they moved to the stairwell, walked down the stairs, and stepped inside the foyer that faced the grassy hospital entrance, away from white ears and eyes. It was their first moment alone since the incident four days before.

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