Grandfather's Will. Short Story

Short story

by H.S.Dundee

GRANDFATHER'S WILL

He is gone now.

I’m not sad anymore. In truth, I don’t know if I even truly mourned Him when I found out. Our bond snapped years ago when He stayed here, in the past, and I moved on to new places, new adventures.

Why did He give this place to me? Why to me out of everyone? Our family is large, surely there is someone better suited, more worthy? But the decision had been His, and nobody can question it now.

We walk along a dusty white gravel road, my backpack weighing me down, but it doesn’t bother me much. It’s quite nice here under the scorching sun after a long ride in the shadowy, rocking bus. It left us standing by the road, speeding away into new distances in a suffocating milky cloud that, for a moment, embraced everything in one dust-covered hug.

“Butterfly!”

Her tiny round fingers point to the side of the road. Excited. Indeed, there isn’t just one, but three or four vibrant insects gliding over bluebells and daisies, poppies and cornflowers.

I smile. What a reminder, a bright happy memory. Once had I chased after them just like she is now. I close my eyes for a moment, breathing in the warm earthy scent of dry dirt and wild flowers, aroma of the fields of gold and hills of crisp grass. July, my beloved month of summer heat.

“Mommy!”

“Oh, sweetheart, did you fall? Come, lets brush it off.”

Scraped knees. It will pass. I know it will. It always did for me, for I have stumbled on that very root so many times before.

The sound of crickets is ringing in my ears, a large emerald grasshopper is making its way across the pebbled road. The sun’s warm rays stroke my face. I can almost sense how it’s painting fresh patterns of bronze freckles over my nose and cheeks.

“Look, mommy! Such a big rock!”

“Yes, I used to climb it every summer. Do you want to try?”

I lift her, shoving her little bum high above myself. She is bursting with joy, her laughter singing across the fields. Her feet dangle down towards me, her beaming face is turned up to the sapphire sky. She’s so much like me in this instant that, for a second, past, present and future melt into one.

She slides down. We walk on. Not too far now, just a few more turns.

Old ruins of an abandoned windmill.

The great oak, once so well suited for climbing, now starting to release its heavy branches.

A large brown toad, trotting alongside us for a time.

A lark, barely a dot in the clear blue sky, letting its melody echo over the woods and fields. Vibrant. Gleeful. Yet, oddly wistful.

A few more bushes, a couple of curves.

And there it is.

A faded green fence, bending under massive lilac bushes, tall maple tree visible behind them. A small creaking gate leading into the garden.

“Is this it? Are we here?”

“Yes. Yes, we are.”

A narrow path, merely a trail worn into the grass, leads us through dozens of apple trees and aronia bushes. Here, where our feet walk, so many others have also stepped. Some taking silent, tentative strides as they pondered their choices. Others, a little faster, more decisive. They had a purpose to pursue. And yet others, hurrying, speeding down the trail, towards an unknown goal. Which ones are mine?

I walk on, following her light footsteps. Ah, to be free like she is!

We snake around an ancient, crooked juniper, still able to bear its purple berries.

There is the great old garden swing. Still here, still welcoming. I used to play on it for hours, and He would sit on its faded seat at twilight, smoking His pipe and telling me stories from His youth.

Bushes of lush peonies, shrubs of currants and gooseberries.

A huge linden tree with a beehive beside it. Buzzing. Still alive.

Then, Itself.

It stands, Its darkened windows staring right at me, beckoning me. She is already playing at Its steps, her striped skirt whirling in the wind. She can feel it, just as I am. And I am scared, but not in a bad way.

I look at It. Sun-bleached yellow walls. Ginger roof, partly covered in moss. A chimney, sturdy and well groomed as always.

It is looking back at me, and I see It smile.

And now I understand. This is why. He knew it all along.

I am supposed to be here.

I am home.

THE END

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