2014 Prompt Responses - 12. Prompt 315

The little boy ran out of the car as soon as it pulled up in front of the dilapidated old mansion. He ran up the porch steps, tripping over the broken step that hadn’t been fixed in more years than the boy had been alive. He burst through the front door and yelled “Grandpa! Grandpa! Where are you?”

He ran into the study and saw his grandfather sitting in front of the fire. The boy ran up and gave his grandfather a big hug. “I missed you, Opa.”

The old man smiled and kissed the top of the boy’s head. “I missed you, too little one.”

The boy’s parents entered the room and shook their heads at the state of their surroundings. The boy’s mother walked up to the old man and gave him a hug, and then kissed his cheek. “Hi Dad.” She said softly.

He gave her a big hug back, but didn’t say a word. They had all been said already.

“Would you like lunch? We brought turkey sandwiches.”

“Sure, sure.” The old man replied. “Why not?” He grabbed his cane and struggled to his feet. “Seventy years in the same place. Both this house and I deserve better than to live out our final days apart. Turkey sandwiches… what a last meal...” he grumbled as he shuffled his way toward the kitchen.

His daughter and her husband looked at each other. “Dad, let us take care of lunch. You sit and visit with your grandson.”

The old man tiredly sat back down and motioned the boy over. The little boy crawled into his lap with an old storybook in his hand. “You’re coming to live near us, Opa! Now I can visit you every day!” The little boy practically vibrated with excitement.

He opened the book he had found on one of the shelves and tried to read the inscription. “He…he..here w…w…we…”

“In here we will always be free to be ourselves. All my love…” the old man trailed off. He smiled wistfully at the little boy and hugged him tight. “I had forgotten all about this old book.”

“Who’s it from, Opa? What does it mean?”

“It was a gift from your other grandpa. He gave it to me when we first met.” He caressed the leather cover of the book of fairy tales. “I miss him, little one.”

“If he made you happy, then I miss him, too.” The little boy snuggled closer.

“He made me very happy. Would you like to hear some of the stories?”

“Yeah!”

The boy’s mother stopped at the doorway with a tray full of the turkey sandwiches, chips, drinks, and cookies for dessert. She quietly set the tray down on the desk in the study and watched as the old man read the book of fairy tales to her son. She struggled to fight back the tears at what she was doing to her father. He was a proud man who had come from humble beginnings to become a successful businessman. She knew it was tearing him apart to leave this place, but there was no other way. He needed help and she lived too far away to provide it.

The boy’s stomach rumbled loudly, interrupting both the story and the daughter’s musings. She brought the tray over and set it down on the coffee table. She distributed the sandwiches and chips and the only sound that could be heard over the next few minutes was the crunching of chips and slurping of drinks.

“Dad… it looks like you haven’t packed anything. You’ll have to let me know what you want brought to the home.”

The old man sighed. He looked so frail in the light of the dying fire. He was almost 100, yet this was the first time he actually felt his age. “I don’t want anything brought to ‘the home’. THIS is my home.”

The daughter silently put down her half-eaten sandwich and went to join her husband checking out the house’s contents.

The little boy frowned at his grandpa. “Don’t you want to come live near us?”

The old man patted the boy’s head gently. “I’d like nothing more than to be closer to you so we could visit every day. But this has been my home for the past seventy years. It’s not easy to leave.”

“Oh.”

The old man held up his hand and looked at it thoughtfully. The firelight glinted off the beautiful topaz ring. He removed the ring with a slight struggle and placed it in the boy’s hand. “Your other grandpa gave me this ring when we pledged to spend the rest of our lives together. I want you to have it. I want you to have the book he gave me, too.”

“Wow, Opa! Thanks!” The boy looked at the ring in wonderment, and then put it in his pocket. “Read to me some more?”

The little boy fell asleep in the old man’s arms as he read the rest of the fairy tales. When the boy’s parents came in an hour later, the fire had gone out in both the fireplace and the old man’s eyes.