Devonne Brown

Elouise, tall and elegant, shrank to five foot nothing by the time she died at seventy-seven. Her youngest daughter, Dagmar, stayed all night with her the day before she died and dreamed of Grandma, Elouise’s mom, that night. She called me that morning to tell me all about it. 

“I dreamed about Grandma last night,” said Dagmar.

“Did you eat breakfast?” I asked. Superstition has it that if you don’t eat breakfast when you dream about the dead, they’ll come for somebody. Elouise, her mom, my grandma, was dying of heart failure. We were taking turns staying with her. We were teachers, it was summer, we had the luxury of the trade off. She’d stay a few days, I’d take care of her kids. Then I’d stay a few days. We were family. “Go get some bread, and a drink of coffee, then you can tell me,” I knew it was important.

“I dreamed that Grandma came to see me. I’ve never dreamed of her before. She was as real as she could be. I introduced her to my children by name, and my husband. I told her his trade. They shook hands and she seemed proud to know them. We walked around a little bit and talked. This was her homeplace. The house was fine, not dilapidated like it is now. She liked the one that was built in its place. She seemed proud. Then she left.”

“You think she came for somebody?” I asked Dagmar. It was early in the morning. Mawmaw was still asleep.

“I just checked on her, she’s still breathing,” she gave a nervous laugh. 

“See you had breakfast, it’ll be ok,” I said. I was worried though. It seemed awfully weird. Mawmaw’s heart attack six weeks ago had been so bad it left her with less than sixteen percent of her heart functioning. The doctors didn’t get it. They couldn’t understand why she didn’t die, but sent her home anyway. Told her not to eat salt or junk food.

We gave her cheese burgers and fried green tomatoes, whatever she wanted. What was it going to do now? Kill her? 

She wanted sausage, eggs, and biscuits for breakfast that morning, but didn’t have much of an appetite after all. She was tired, didn’t feel so good. Went to take a nap.

Dagmar called me again later. “Grandma came for Mom after all. She’s gone now.”