Chapter 2
Gregor sprints back out of the apartment and down the steps. He hangs a right at the street outside, going in the opposite direction of his school, having to dodge a tiny old lady walking her snow white poodle. He quickly covers the distance between his apartment and the nearest subway entrance, going down the steps two at a time. Gregor is forced to slow down once his in the subway tunnels due to the thick crowds of people, but still moves quickly, trying his best not to bulldoze the people that get in his way. Having taken the subway to the hospital several times, he knows exactly which way to go, and reaches the closest ticket booth within a minute or two. He gets in line and forces himself to take a breath as he watches the attractive young blonde working the window slowly counting change to hand back to the balding penguin of a man before her. Even though his grandmother was admitted to the hospital on a regular basis—eating up quite a bit of their money in the process—his mother usually did not leave a note explaining where they went, she would simply leave someone at the house to inform Gregor to meet them at the hospital. The fact that she had chosen to take everyone and leave a note instead was a little foreboding. Gregor finally makes his way to the front of the line to the sluggish blonde girl, and purchases his ticket. After a few agonizing minutes of watching her recount his change, she gives him his ticket and he takes off towards his subway line. Finally, he reaches the subway and squeezes his way on between the millions of other people, each bustling to get to their own personal emergency.
Gregor sighs and leans his head against the pole that he is holding onto. Once again he is helpless to help those he loves. Images of all the times Boots came so close to death flash through his mind. He catches his breath as a hopeless sense of loneliness starts to once again wrap itself around his heart. It's times like this that he misses her the most. He misses those purple eyes and pale skin, he misses her stubbornness and strong personality, and most of all he misses having her there to understand what he's going through; having someone else who's loved and lost. He hears the lifeless voice above announce his stop, and he squeezes his way off the subway. Once again having a purpose, he pushes all those sad thoughts aside and quickly forces his way through the crowds and back up to the surface. He quickly sprints two more blocks and finally slows to a brisk walk when the hospital his grandmother is usually admitted to is looming up before him. The hospital is a three story red brick building with an equally high parking garage connected to the right side of it. On either side of the building are dark looming skyscrapers that make the hospital look unimportant and out of date. The pavement that runs parallel to the street connects perpendicularly to a cobblestone pathway that leads to the hospital entrance. On either side of the pathway are patches of land that Gregor is sure are intended to be covered in green grass. Instead the pathway is surrounded by brown, dying grass. On the left side of the pathway there is an old, rusty, disconnected sprinkler lying in the middle of the "grass"; while on the opposite side a flag pole stands erect with an American flag hanging lifelessly at the top.
Gregor hustles up the cobblestone path and through the front double doors, entering the little entryway between the first set of double doors connecting to the outside, and the second set of double doors connecting to the lobby. On the inside of this alcove is a statue of three gnarled old women who—he was told—played a big part in financing the hospital a couple million years ago. Gregor always finds these women, or witches as they seem to Gregor, a horrible way of welcoming people into a hospital that is intended to be a comforting place for the sick and dying. Gregor quickly passes through the second set of double doors and into the lobby before the three witches have time to tell him his future. What greets him is a room about the size of a large classroom, maybe thirty-six square feet deep and wide. The walls are covered in an off-white paint that is chipping to reveal the gray of the sheetrock beneath. Lining the walls to his left and right are connected metal chairs in groups of six. Facing away from Gregor in the middle of the room are four more rows of chairs with six on each row. These chairs are facing the wall directly across from the doors leading to the domain of the three witches. On this wall is a glass window behind which sits a plump lady with frizzy red hair and large glasses on the end of her nose. On either side of this glass window are the doors that lead to the rooms of the patients beyond. To Gregor's right sit his father and two younger siblings.
Gregor's grandmother has been in and out of the hospital for the past 6 years and senile for almost twice as long. Usually, when she is admitted into the hospital, his family would treat it like they would Boots having a cold. They take care of her, of course, but they never get too worked up since it happens on a regular basis. This time, as Gregor enters the lobby of the Down Town Cawdor Hospital, his family's mood is completely different. Gregor feels the sadness radiating from the corner of the lobby where half of his family sits in complete silence.
His father sits hunched over in the metal chair farthest from where Gregor stands. With his head resting in his bony hands; the only sign of life remaining in him is the slight movement of his shoulders as he inhales and exhales in a rhythm that is slow enough to add to the aura of utter despair that fills the room.
The older of his two sisters, Lizzie, is sitting in a similar metal chair directly beside his father. Lizzie sits with one leg tucked under the other, both hands resting lifelessly in her lap. Her eyes are puffy and red like she has been crying. She stares straight ahead with a glazed expression plastered on her face.
Finally, his youngest sister Boots, who has been through so much with Gregor, sits on the floor next to her father's chair in one of those awkward looking positions that can only be achieved as a young child, with her legs crossed and her body crumpled forward. Her arms are wrapped around her head and Gregor can hear the occasional sniffle coming from inside her little ball indicating that she has also been crying.
"No…" Gregor whispers to himself as the realization of what's happened hits him. He hadn't intended to speak out loud, but the sound of his voice is enough to cause his father to lift his head and give Gregor one of those pity-smiles people give when they're trying not to cry.
Hearing their father's movement, Boots raises her head and yells "Gregor!" before jumping up and running to wrap her arms around Gregor's legs. Gregor grabs Boots by her shoulders and pushes her back so that he can squat down and get on eye level with her. He gives her his most encouraging smile and, trying not to let his voice crack, says, "Hey, Princess, how are you holding up?"
"I'm okay," Boots says, giving another sniffle and reaching up to wipe her nose with her sleeve. "Grandma was getting kinda' old anyway. She was ready to go." She says this with half a smile.
The way his 9 year old sister tries to reassure him fills him with a sense of sadness that catches him completely unaware. It wasn't that long ago when she didn't even understand the concept of death. Now she is standing in a bleak hotel lobby telling Gregor that it was time for their grandmother to die, and it's all going to be okay.
"You're right Boots, it's all going to be okay," Gregor says, the same pity-smile his father had given him playing across his lips. Gregor stands up straight and looks at his father who hovers behind Boots with a look of utter exhaustion on his face. After Gregor had rescued his father from the clutches of a tyrant king named King Gorger (who coincidentally used an anagram of the same letters that were used to spell Gregor's name) it had taken him almost three years to get over the fevers and return to a semblance of normalcy. Now, since about a year and a half ago, Gregor's father had found a job as a handyman at some big corporate office about two blocks from their apartment complex. However, Gregor's father has yet to fully adjust to the routine of having to work again, and his appearance shows it. He has shaggy hair that he usually greases back, causing him to show resemblance to Jefferson Smith in the old movie Mr. Smith Goes to Washington—albeit an older and more worn version. Gregor's father looks just as weak as he felt when he first returned to New York.
Gregor's father stands now and holds his arms open in a gesture implying he wants a hug from Gregor as well. Gregor steps past his sister and wraps his father in a tight embrace, allowing himself to be engulfed in the smell of peppermint and aftershave—Gregor's favorite smell in the entire world.
"How long ago?" Gregor asks quietly as he continues to embrace the father he had once fought and bled to save.
"About half an hour…your mother wanted to be alone; so she went for a walk," his father says backing away and giving Gregor that same smile. "Sometimes life isn't fair, is it?"
And that is all they say; nothing else needs to be said. Gregor understands that his grandmother is now gone, and he knows that the rest of his family understands as well. At eighteen years old, Gregor has seen more death than most people will see in their entire lifetime, and as unfortunate as it is, Gregor isn't as shell-shocked as most people are by this type of experience. Gregor gives Lizzie the only kind of hug you can give to someone who is sitting down while you remain standing—an awkward one. Gregor sits down in the metal chair next to Lizzie and leans his head back against the peeling wall, and before he knows it he's drifting into a troublesome reverie, thinking about his father's last words Gregor can just picture those three witches cackling.
"Fair is foul and foul is fair, and you'd do well to remember it Gregor."
