“Take a deep breath, wont’cha,” Mawmaw said as the woman gulped down air.
“My baby. She’s so colicky,” she said, wiping sweat from her freckled forehead. “She’s not sleepin’…ever. I’m not sleepin’. Please, will you help us?”
“That’s a precious baby you got there.” Mawmaw’s sharp eyes examined the baby’s head as she cooed sweet words over her. “Go get in your car and meet me at my house,” Mawmaw said to the mom.
Ophelia could not believe her luck. She was going to see her Mawmaw treat! She would finally put to rest the idea that this gift of hers was a mockery.
When they returned to the house, Mawmaw brought the mother and child into the treating parlor and sat her in the wingback chair in the corner as Ophelia fixed sweet teas.
As Ophelia set the glass of iced tea on the side table for the mother, Mawmaw asked Ophelia to close the parlor doors. From her chair, Mawmaw continued to dole out tasks.
“Mom,” said Mawmaw to the mother. “Place your babe on the altar and remove her onesie. Keep her diaper on, of course. Can’t have a mess everywhere.”
The mom gently placed her child onto the altar as the baby’s screams intensified, her face turning an unnatural shade of magenta. The child squirmed in anguish on the cold altar as the mother removed her clothes. Ophelia immediately noticed the baby’s stomach moving uncomfortably with gas, like the child’s organs were knotted, shifting under her skin.
“Ophelia, light the incense and candle, close the drapes, and grab me the dish with fresh holy water.”
Ophelia moved swiftly into action, and the baby’s cries softened as the room filled with the warm light of a single candle.
Looking at Ophelia, Mawmaw said, “Help me to my walker, and we’ll stand at the altar.”
Mawmaw, Ophelia, and the baby’s mother stood over the screaming infant. Mawmaw turned to the mother. “My granddaughter will be assisting today. She’s learning to treat. Is that alright with you, Mom?”
The woman nodded.
“Good. Now, we will begin.” Mawmaw squared her shoulders as much as she physically could. “Ophelia, darling, clear your mind like I taught you.” Ophelia focused on her breath as Mawmaw did the same. “Good. Now, I’ll place my hands on the child’s stomach and let your gift flow to her, healing her.”
Her grandmother stood slightly hunched over the child with her bony hands pressed gently into the child’s roiling stomach. Mawmaw’s brows furrowed slightly and then released. She began to pray. Ophelia recognized the prayer and joined her in the recitation. The hum of their combined voices was relaxing and hypnotic. They prayed over the child for what felt like an hour, but was only a couple of minutes. Finally, the prayer concluded, and the entire healing room’s energy had shifted. Ophelia’s skin tingled.
Mawmaw sighed. “Ah, silence.”
The mother broke the stillness with a guttural sob. Ophelia smiled as her eyes began to fill with her own tears. Ophelia picked up the baby and examined her. Her color had returned to a perfect pink, and her stomach was smooth. Ophelia wasamazed as she held the baby close to her chest and gently kissed her forehead.
“I hope you feel better, little one,” she whispered as she passed the baby to her mother.
The mother cradled her. “Thank you, thank you, oh God, thank you,” she whispered hysterically through tears.
Ophelia was on a high.She witnessed her grandmother healing a baby. Her mind was reeling all over again. This gift was real. Jack was going to eat shit when she told him all about what she had witnessed.
Mawmaw and Ophelia sat on the back porch staring out into the pines.
“That was amazing, Mawmaw.”
“Thank you, darlin’. You know you helped, too, right?”
“I did?” she asked, shocked.
Mawmaw hummed. “I could feel your energy. You will inherit the gift quite well.”
Ophelia beamed.
“You’ll come back next weekend?” asked Mawmaw as she turned her head toward Ophelia.
“I can’t next weekend, I’m hosting a party.” Ophelia wiggled her eyebrows with mischief. Mawmaw huffed in response. “Then the following weekend is Evangeline’s bachelorette party in New Orleans.”
“Ah, yes. Do you like this man of hers?”
“I suppose,” said Ophelia, shrugging. “But after those two weekends, I’m all yours. Promise.”
