Encore

ENCORE

 

Everyone called him “Grandpa,” including his wife. He never seemed to mind, and called everyone “kiddo,” and his wife he called “Grandma.” No one complained. He’d been a grandfather since his eldest daughter had married at the age of eighteen and had her first child ten months later. That had been over forty years ago.

Chester, that first grandchild, had recently been growing more and more concerned about the family patriarch – his other grandfather, the one from his dad’s side of the family, had passed away several years earlier, and had never been as active with his grandchildren as Grandpa was. And now, that venerable gentleman, having reached his eighty-ninth year, was beginning to do some odd things.

“I wonder if you can trust him to live here with you,” Chester said one summer evening, addressing Grandma after the family’s annual Fifth of July picnic.

They celebrated on the Fourth, naturally, because it was…well, it was the Fourth. But at Grandpa’s urging, they’d held off having the really big gathering until the fifth. His reason had been simple: as far as he could tell from what he knew of American history, all the important stuff had begun in earnest on the fifth.

Grandma, who was sitting next to Chester on the front porch, reached over and patted his hand. “Don’t you worry about that, my boy. Your Grandfather may be getting forgetful, but that’s nothing unusual, nor should it alarm you. He still has his wits – or most of them.” She chuckled, staring into the growing darkness spreading across the lawn.

“I’m just afraid he’ll wander off, or leave the kettle on and forget about it for too long. Something like that.”

“My old kettle still whistles like a steam engine, Chester. I’ll hear it if even if your grandfather doesn’t.”

Sighing, Chester shook his head. “I don’t know. I was taking him to the store the other day, and at every stoplight, he pulled out this worn-looking leather notebook and jotted down how long it took for the light to turn green. And while we were at the store, he kept muttering to himself about worms. What the heck, Grandma?”

She turned her head, her expression filled with surprise. “That’s the first time you noticed him doing that? About the traffic lights, I mean. Goodness, he’s been writing down the length of those lights since he was a child!”

Chester gave her a crazy look. “Why?”

“I don’t know. I did ask him once, but all he would do is clamp his mouth shut, ball up his fists, and walk away.” She laughed. “I figured it was part of some kind of ritual he’d devised – you know, like a good-luck thing. Maybe he thinks he’ll be safe in the car as long as he keeps track of the lights. And you know, he never has had an accident in all his years of driving. Never been in one, either.”

“Okay, I’ll concede the light thing. But what about the worms?”

Grandma turned back to face the front lawn, her gaze going upward at the emerging stars. “Can’t imagine what that one is about, to be honest.” She shrugged. “Did you ask him?”

“I was afraid to.”

“Anything else?”

“Little things.” Frowning, Chester shifted in his seat and sighed. “He called Tess ‘Alice’ earlier. I have no idea who Alice is. Do you?” His wife, Tess, he remembered, had answered the old man as though he’d said her correct name. She was such a kind woman.

“Let’s see…Alice…ah, yes. He had a friend, an army buddy who died during combat in Korea – Jim, I think. Jim Creed or something like that. His wife’s name was Alice.” She tilted her head to one side. “That would make sense, I suppose. Tess is small and blonde like Alice was. After the war, Grandpa brought her some things Jim had asked him to give her if he got killed. A letter, a ring, something else. Anyway, she came to visit a few times after that, but…oh, my. What a sad girl. We lost track of her all too soon. I don’t even know if she’s still alive.”

With a nod, Chester grasped the arms of the chair and hauled himself upright. “All right, then. As long as you’re sure, but don’t be afraid to let me know if his behavior gets worse and you need help, okay?”

“Of course. You’re a good boy, Chet. Going to head home now?”

“I probably should start rounding up the mob, at least.” He grinned, leaned down, and kissed the woman on her head shining silver-white in the light of a newly-risen full moon. “Love you, Grandma.”

She grasped his hand. “I love you, too, boy. I’ll be in soon – go do what you have to.”

A week and two days later, Grandpa had a stroke. While in the hospital, he also suffered a massive heart attack, and despite all the efforts of the cardiac staff, the flat-line signal didn’t change. They turned off the machine and called it, setting the time of his death as 6:42 pm.

 

~~~~~~~

 

“Welcome. We’ve been waiting for you.” The creature in blinding white clothing put out a hand.

Instead of shaking it, the essence of the man everyone knew as “Grandpa” held out a thick, leather-bound notebook that had clearly seen many years of use. “Not so fast, my friend.” He smiled at the being, nodding toward the book. “Guess they didn’t tell you about this, eh?”

The manlike being looked down at the book with surprise. “I – how did you get that here? And what is it?”

“Same way I kept my clothes on, I guess.” He looked briefly down at himself. “Have a few minutes?”

“I have eternity.”

“Ah. Right. Well, now, when I was a boy, my mother left my dad and all of us kids to fend for ourselves. Ran off with a salesman or something.”

“I know the story.”

“Then you know that I never really had a childhood – had to help my dad with the other six kids all the time. No chance to get into sports, hang out with friends, nothing. I used to cry about it at night. Didn’t want my dad or the others to see – it wasn’t their fault, and I knew it. But it made me sad. And then one night, I was praying to your Boss.”

The shining creature smiled. “What did He tell you?”

“Said that he might be able to give me back some time. Said if I kept track of all the minutes wasted sitting at stoplights, he’d give them back to me at the end of my life. Had to keep it to myself, of course. Well,” and he slapped the book into the creature’s hand, “here they are.”

“Please give me a moment.” The being vanished.

Grandpa waited, patient, looking around at what seemed to be a lot of pretty colors without specific shapes. He had no idea how long he stood there, but it didn’t matter to him.

A shimmering, and the next thing Grandpa knew, he was taking a deep, gasping breath and opening his eyes.

“Oh, my God! Doctor! My – my husband – he – he - !”

Grandpa gave his wife a weak smile. “It’s okay, Grandma,” he whispered. “I’m not going to be worm-food just yet. Got another whole year and a few hours.”

“W-what?”

“Handed in my book – I redeemed the time!”

Impressum

Texte: Judy Colella
Tag der Veröffentlichung: 18.06.2014

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