Chapter Five

I heard the sound of a basketball hitting the pavement and thumping against a backboard. I knew it had to be Isaac. I put my shoes on and went outside. Isaac was shooting hoops on his driveway. I grabbed my bike and walked it onto the driveway and across the little grass strip between our houses.

“How’s it going?” I asked.

“Day five seems to be as sucky as days two through four,” he replied. “Wait, that reminds me.”

Isaac picked up a big piece of sidewalk chalk from the driveway and walked onto the road. He made a thick line through four other thick strokes. I didn’t understand, and then it came to me. It was a tally of the days that had passed.

“I saw a movie about people in prison. This is what they did to keep track of the days,” he explained.

“You’re not exactly in a prison.”

“Not just prison, but solitary confinement,” he said.

“Some people have it a lot worse, you know. At least you have your mother with you. And me living next door.”

“I guess you’re right. And my prison does have video games, Netflix and all the food I can eat. I’m pretty lucky.”

“How’s your mom doing?”

“Working a lot, like I guess your dad is. She pops home once in a while but probably just to make sure I’m not getting into trouble.”

“What happened to all the amazing things you were going to be doing on break?”

“I don’t know. It’s different with nobody to hang out with. Physical distancing sucks, and my mom says I’m supposed to stay close to home. You going for a ride?”

“Yes, Reese and I are going to see her grandmother at the Vista Villa Lodge.”

“Can I join you?”

“I thought your mother said you were supposed to stay close to home.”

“Staying close is a relative term. How far away is it?”

“Maybe fifteen minutes. You sure you want to come?”

“It’s better than what I’m doing now. Hang on, I’ll get my bike.”

We rode along the bike path. There were lots of people out—walking, riding and jogging. Not just kids or a person or two, but whole families. The paths and parks were busy. It seemed like every swing was being used, and the leash-free areas were full of dogs and their owners.

“It’s good to get out and get moving,” Isaac said.

“Really good to get away from my parents,” Reese said. “They’re freaking out.”

“Why?”

“They’re trying to sort out distance education.”

“Why? Do they think we won’t be going back to school?” Isaac asked.

“Who knows? But they’re trying to learn how to use something called Zoom to talk to their students.”

“I know Zoom. It’s a platform you can use to talk to lots of people at once,” Isaac explained.

“My parents both think it seems like a lot of work to make up for a few lost days of school,” Reese said. “They think this will all be over soon.”

She was right. It was a lot of work for a few missed days of school. But from what I’d heard, it could be a lot more than a few days. My father wasn’t telling us much about what was happening at the hospital, but he was leaving earlier and coming home later. Most nights he wasn’t even home by the time I went to bed. I missed our meals together and just hanging out with him and giving him a bedtime hug.

While my father was home less, my mother was home more. The bank had most of the staff working from home if they could. Mom had turned the spare bedroom into a little home office. We had an office in the basement, but because Dad was down there, she couldn’t use it.

“How old is your grandmother?” Isaac asked.

“She’ll be turning eighty-four in a few weeks.”

“I’ve met her before, right? Doesn’t she make those killer ginger cookies?”

“Yes! She used to live over on Chestnut, but it got too hard for her to run her own place. She’s had some bad luck.”

Reese had told me that her grandma had fallen a couple of times and that she’d left a pot on the stove once and caused a little fire.

“She’s gotten a little forgetful,” Reese said. “But she’s still good.”

The building was just up ahead. It was almost new, red brick and seven stories high. There were gardens with flower beds, grass where residents could sit and paths for them to walk on or be pushed along in wheelchairs. I had been here before. It was nice inside too—it reminded me of a Holiday Inn. Reese’s grandmother had a unit on the second floor, with a window looking out on the gardens.

We put our bikes off to the side of the front door. Reese grabbed the door and pulled. “It’s locked,” she said, surprised. “It’s never locked.”

In the window was a handmade sign.

Effective Immediately — Absolutely NO Visitors

“What does that mean?” Reese asked.

“I think it’s pretty obvious,” Isaac said. “They’re not letting people visit.”

“But I want to see my grandmother.”

A nurse appeared at the door. She clicked the lock off and opened the door ever so slightly.

“I’m here to see my grandmother, Jennie Ellis.” “Sorry, as of midnight last night, we’re closed to visitors as a precaution. We don’t want any of the residents to contract the virus.”

“But we don’t have it,” Reese said.

“We can wait outside and Reese can go in alone,” I offered.

“Sorry. There are no exceptions.”

“My grandmother is all right, isn’t she?” Reese asked.

“Everybody is fine. We’re in the process of notifying family members about visits being canceled. Again, sorry.”

She pulled the door closed and locked it again.

“I just want to see her,” Reese said. She looked like she was close to tears.

My father had told us there had been an outbreak in a couple of nursing homes, but I couldn’t say that to Reese. I didn’t want her getting even more upset.

“Old people are the ones most at risk, so it’s a good thing they’re doing this. It’s to protect her. That’s good, right?” I said.

“I guess. I wish I could say hello.”

“Which unit is hers?” Isaac asked.

“Two fourteen. Around the back.”

“And all of them have balconies, right?”

“Yes...”

“Call her and tell her to go out on the balcony,” Isaac said.

Reese took out her phone and punched in the numbers as we walked to the back of the building.

“Hello, Gran, it’s me—it’s Reese! Could you go out on your balcony?” I couldn’t hear her answer. “It’s a surprise. Just go. Okay…okay, bye.”

We got to the back in time to see her grandmother appear at the railing of her balcony. We stopped right underneath her.

“Gran, it’s me!” she yelled.

“Reese! Why don’t you come up? I have cookies for you!”

“They won’t let us in!” Reese said.

“Just go in the door. It’s around the other side. Just come in.”

“Reese, I don’t think she understands,” I said quietly.

Reese nodded. “You’re right.” She looked up at her grandmother. “Gran, my friends and I were just passing by and wanted to say hello.”

Isaac started waving and yelled, “Hello!” and I did the same.

“We have to go, Gran,” Reese said. “I love you. See you soon.”

“I love you, my angel. Goodbye! Love you.”

She disappeared from view, and we heard the sliding door above us close.

“That was hard, really hard,” said Reese.

“But you saw her, and she saw you. I’m sure this whole thing won’t last long, and soon you’ll be able to visit her again,” I said.

I hoped what I’d said was comforting to Reese. But I wasn’t sure I believed it.