Free The Hunchback of Neiman Marcus by Sonya Sones Page A

head,
    he tells her he’s checking her brain function.
    â€œYour brain is functioning very well indeed,” he says.
    Then he gives her a kindly smile,
    and she stops tugging on her hair.
    Next, he takes a small hammer out of his pocket
    and lightly taps each one of her knees.
    â€œDo you know why I’m doing this?” he asks.
    â€œTo test my reflexes?” my mother says.
    â€œThat’s exactly right,” he says.
    â€œAnd your reflexes are perfect.”
    Then he places his hand
    on her left earlobe and gives it a gentle tug.
    â€œDo you know why I’m doing this?” he asks.
    When my mother says she doesn’t,
    Dr. Gold shrugs and says,
    â€œNeither do I.”
    And when, for the first time all weekend,
    my mother bursts out laughing,
    I want to fling my arms around
    this brilliant little potato dumpling of a man.

AFTER MY MOTHER’S EXAMINATION
    Dr. Gold meets with me to discuss her options.
    He tells me that the Prozac doesn’t seem to be working.
    And that if my mother isn’t eating within two days,
    he’s afraid they’ll be forced to insert a feeding tube.
    â€œSo,” he says, with a sympathetic smile,
    â€œsince we don’t have the time
    to try a new antidepressant,
    I think we should consider shock treatments.”
    â€œShock treatments…?!”
    An image flashes through my head—
    my mother strapped to a table, her eyes bulging,
    her body rigid, arching…
    â€œI know people think they’re barbaric,” he says.
    â€œBut, really, they’re not anything like in the movies.
    And the results can be dramatic—we might even
    see some improvement after just one treatment.”
    â€œAre there any side effects?” I ask, swallowing hard.
    â€œMaybe some short-term memory loss,” he says.
    â€œBut if all goes well, she’ll be out of here in time
    to commandeer your kitchen at Thanksgiving.”
    I picture Samantha,
    arriving home for the long weekend,
    flinging herself into
    her beaming grandma’s arms.
    And when Dr. Gold
    hands me the consent form,
    I scribble down my name
    before I can change my mind.

HOSPITAL WAITING ROOM HAIKU
    Behind that closed door—
    a lightning storm is crashing
    through my mother’s skull.

AFTERSHOCKS
    When they wheel my mother out
    and I rush to her side,
    her eyes widen and fill with tears.
    â€œHolly?!” she cries. “Why didn’t you tell me
    you were coming to Cleveland?
    Is it really you?”
    â€œYes, Mom,” I say,
    gathering her into a hug.
    â€œIs it really you?”
    I bury my face in her soft neck,
    and we hold each other for a moment.
    Then she pulls back, and sniffs the air.
    â€œOh, my…” she says,
    a hopeful grin spreading across her face.
    â€œDo I smell…butterscotch?”
    I reach into my purse
    and pull out one of Samantha’s brownies.
    She plucks it from my hand and wolfs it down.
    â€œI have died and gone to brownie heaven,” she sighs.
    â€œDo you have any more of those?
    I feel as if I haven’t eaten in days.”
    I hand my mother another brownie.
    And she’s so busy scarfing it down
    that she doesn’t even notice
    when Dr. Gold and I exchange a high five.

MY MOTHER TAKES A NAP
    When she wakes up,
    and sees me sitting next to her bed,
    her eyes widen and fill with tears.
    â€œHolly!” she cries. “How wonderful
    to see you! Why didn’t you tell me
    you were coming to Cleveland?”
    I lean in,
    giving her a squeeze, and say,
    â€œI…I wanted to surprise you, Mom.”
    A few minutes later, I step out of the room
    so that I can see what happens
    when I come back in.
    Sure enough—
    my mother’s just as stunned and delighted
    when she sees me walk through the door.
    And for the next few hours,
    I keep finding excuses to leave the room,
    so that I can delight my mother upon my return.
    I guess
    every shock treatment
    has a silver lining.

THE SUN