Issue Three – October 2015
MAYHEM
ISSN 2382-0322
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Lee Kimber
Who is Nana Kip?
The little girl is six. She stands as close to her mother as she can and stares at the bed, its sheet
folded in a strict hospital line across the old woman’s chest. There are metal bars sticking up
from the other side. The nurse who’d pointed the bed out to the two visitors, had said casually
that Mrs Kippenberger had fallen out of it a few nights ago. The girl looks into the nurse’s face
to see whether she is telling the truth and wonders how an adult, especially an old adult could
possibly fall out of bed.
Her curious gaze is just above that of the woman’s looking up from the pillow.
She sees the
pale blue nighty with a string twisted out from under the wrinkled neck. The skin on the
woman’s arms and hands is stretched over bones white with blurry brown patches. Her hair is
spindly. She is gripping the girl’s mother’s hand.
‘Is that you Diana?’ The old woman struggles to focus, then she searches the mother’s face and
fixes on her eyes.
Her mouth is mostly open, tongue muscle moving breaking and creating
strings of wet. She needs moisture to lubricate her words, they are air which barely reaches the
mother although she is bent in close.
‘Hello, Nana Kip. Yes, I’m Diana, Rufa’s daughter.’
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© Copyright remains with the individual author
MAYHEM
Issue Three – October 2015
ISSN 2382-0322
______________________________________________________________________________
‘Ah … yes.’ She’s forgotten who Diana is but remembers the name. ‘Ah … yes, Diana.’ The
eyes close for a moment and pop open again. ‘Ah Diana … and who is this?’ The eyes are now
on the child who has turned slightly away and is looking down wondering where the woman’s
slippers are and looks around for a dressing gown – she can’t see either.
There is a shriek, ‘Where’s he going?’ The girl jumps and searches the room with startled eyes.
There is no one there; the passage separating the lines of beds is empty. Her mother hasn’t
turned, she is focussed hard on her grandmother’s face, eyes pleading for further signs of
recognition.
Suddenly laughter is coming from the same bed where the yell had come from. It sounds wild.
The child, eyes closed, moves into her mother and is nearly standing on one of the cream shoes.
Her nostrils sting with the smell of urine and disinfectant and there is a faint whiff of stale talcum
powder.
The woman has closed her eyes. Has she gone to sleep? She doesn’t open them again.
Diana is saying goodbye, her voice heavy. The girl looks into the familiar face, searching for
tears because she sounds quivery, but there are none. Diana now stands up straight. She shakes
the girl from her coat, catches her hand and leaves.
As they approach the doors at the end of the passage, the little girl looks up again. ‘Who is Nana
Kip?’
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© Copyright remains with the individual author