by NT Franklin
ginger beer
“Oh Lord, he doing it again,”
Katy said.
“That where the kids are?” Karen
asked.
“Yup, downstairs in rapt
attention to ‘Grampy stories’ as Randy calls them.” Is that where little Tommy
is, too?”
Karen rolled her eyes. “Yes.
Every holiday it takes weeks to ‘unlearn’ the lessons from Grampy.”
“Yeah, but Tommy isn’t speaking
yet.”
“Doesn’t mean he isn’t
listening.”
“Karen, should we go rescue the
kids before it’s too late? I had to explain why hood surfing is stupid and
dangerous to Caleb–he’s a 6 year old–last Christmas.”
The girls looked toward the sound
of a herd of elephants coming up the stairs. “Mommy, mommy, mommy,” three voices
cried out in unison. “Grampy told us more stories. He promised even more after
supper.”
“Wouldn’t you guys rather watch
television tonight?”
“NO,” three voices replied.
Little Tommy just giggled.
“Oh Lord,” was all Katy
said.
Karen was cleaning up after
supper in an empty kitchen while the wee ones were in the basement listening to
Grampy. “Could be worse. At least we only visit for holidays.”
“Yeah, I know,” Katy
agreed.
“Do you want to talk to him about
it this time?”
Katy shook her head, “Nope, I did
last time. See how well that worked? Your turn.”
Karen went downstairs to confront
Grampy. Again.
“But there is nothing wrong with
those stories. Good clean fun. Might be good to let the boys live a little. It’s
not like they’re harmed walking in the woods. Just as dangerous on a city street,
I figure.”
“Dad, Katy and I have been over
this with you before. They’re young, impressionable children. They don’t live
like that.”
“Might do them some
good.”
“Are we done now? Don’t make me
tell Mom we can’t visit her anymore. Don’t make me do it.”
Grampy nodded, but that was
all.
All Easter plans were cancelled
with the coronavirus mayhem. Everyone sheltered at home. But the epidemic moved
extraordinarily quickly in some areas, even before alerts were issued. For some,
the alerts were too late. Grampy caught the virus from a healthcare provider and
didn’t make it two weeks.
Two Christmases later, Katy and
Karen travelled to Grampy’s house. Their boys wanted to hear Grampy’s stories.
Everyone settled for a picture album of the multiple generations.
Little Timmy pointed to a photo
of Grampy and asked, “Who’s dat?”
Karen cried.
About the author
NT
Franklin has been published in Page and Spine, Fiction
on the Web, 101 Words, Friday Flash Fiction, CafeLit, Madswirl, Postcard Shorts,
404 Words, Scarlet Leaf Review, Freedom Fiction, Burrst, Entropy, Alsina
Publishing, Fifty-word stories, Dime Show Review, among
others.
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