The cold and sterile atmosphere in the hospital ward was impersonal and did not do anything to comfort Elisha. She sat by the bed where her best friend rested, so still. Her best friend was also her grandmother whom she called Grammie Willie.  

Elisha stared at her grandmother’s still placid face for the longest time and her memory flashed down memory lane to more than thirty years ago.

She was then five years old. Her mother Tiffany was holding her hands and literally dragging her down the lane towards her mother’s house.  
Elisha had been too weak and small, and allowed her mother to drag her, whimpering as she was hungry, hurting and tired. Her weak protestation had been met with a slap and a scream of, "Shut Up!"
Her mother in bellbottom pants, high heeled platform shoes and a flowery halter top with her long curly black hair was as beautiful as an angel. She was once a kind and angelic figure in Elisha’s life, but drugs alcohol and debauched men had transformed her into a snarling glaring witch.  
Tiffany was a receptionist in a hotel but she had lost her job several months ago. She had been absent too many times and her friends who had stood up for her had given up. The management had caught up on her many absent days, her slack attitude and rudeness to hotel guests, and gave her a warning letter.

That did not deter her, and she blatantly went against rules, smoking at the front desk and being drunk on duty. Those of course did not endear her to the bosses and one fine day she got her termination letter with a three months’ salary compensation, which was kind actually.

Tiffany had gone home that day and thrashed the house in her rage. Elisha saw that side of her then and knew that her life as a loved child was over. She wished she had a father, but  she never knew one as she was a ‘love’ child. The result of her mother’s union with flower children…any man…it was free love after all.  

After that incident their life went down to the pits, there were long instances when there was no food, and long instances when her mother disappeared and Elisha had to climb up to the shelves to eat anything in boxes including cereals and biscuits. She found some powdered stuff one day and in trying to get it made it spill to the floor instead. It did not look like food so she left it there. When her mother came home a day later, looking almost sober, she saw the mess and went into a rage so fierce and ugly that Elisha ran out of the house and hid among the plants outside the house.

Her mother found her of course and grabbed her in, and slapped her around. She did not know how long her abuse went or her screaming, but soon she lost her voice and went silent, just feeling the whack and smack on her small body. As she sat there against the wall, numbed she heard the door bell and a voice and then her mother’s voice. It seemed to be an argument. And then the door slammed, and Elisha was scooped up by her mother and brought out of the house.

She was thrown into the back seat of the car and then the long drive began. Through the drive, her mother smoked and berated her, calling her a whore-child, a bad luck blob, a specimen of the devil. Elisha just kept quiet. She thought that she must indeed be bad for being called such and being beaten to an inch of her life.  

An hour later, her mother pulled up along the road, and started crying. Her tears were cascades that got through wracking sobs, and low wails. Her head on the steering wheel, she shuddered through her tears. Elisha looked on in horror. After a while, her mother composed herself and drove on. They reached her Grandmother’s house in the country late in the evening, and that was the first time Elisha set eyes on her mother’s mother. She could not believe her eyes as they looked like twins.  

Her grandmother had the same long black curly hair, the slim body and deep penetrating eyes. She however looked kind and warm.  
The two women had looked at each other for the longest time, and Elisha had expected them to embrace, but that never happened.  Tiffany had just pushed her towards the older woman, Wilhelmina, and said, "Take this whore-child…” and then she walked away.

Wilhelmina or Grammie Willie to Elisha later, took the thin dirty child into her arms and hugged her for the longest time.  

Elisha felt the tears in her eyes as she jolted back from Memory Lane; her Grammie moved one of her hands and she held it tenderly.  

“I owe you so much Grammie…” she whispered.