Wednesday, May 27, 2015

The Morning

Just having woken and risen, he was on his way to the bathroom when his father appeared. This in itself was odd, but what was even more bizarre was that they were at his beloved grandmother’s house.

Thus he had envisioned having a makeshift shower in the huge white cast iron bath with magnificent lions feet at each corner. Grandma, more accustomed to washing in a bath, had erected a long rubber hose with a shower nozzle at one end especially for him. The other end had cups that attached to the bath taps, much like how plungers fit to a cow’s teats when the farmer collects the daily milk.

The only problem was that as the pressure on the taps increased the plungers often decided they would part from the taps and burst either extremely hot or freezing cold water on your feet. Having a shower at Grandma’s was a risky business.

Without saying anything it was clear that he should follow his father. He lead him to the spare room, the one that was in between his and his grandmother’s. No one ever used this room, since his mother and uncle had grown up. It used to be his uncle’s room. The smallest of all three.

He recalled stories his mother used to tell him of how she and her brother used to play chess through the wall when they should have been sleeping at night. Each had their own complete chess board and they whispered the moves to each other through the wall. Fights invariably broke out as “Bishop to E5 takes queen” resulted in “But my queen isn’t there!”

As they entered the bedroom he noticed the man waiting inside. He had a mixture of grey and white hair with a beard of the same makeup. What was striking, however, was his size. Although not particularly tall, he seemed so. His body was also of a size and yet he wasn’t overweight. It was one of those situations where you could say, “He had a presence.”

Upon entering his father turned and disappeared leaving him alone with the old stranger who took his hand into his big warm palm. There was something familiar about him that wasn’t as yet identifiable.

“You didn’t answer me,” he opened with. His voice was deep and soft. It was a warm expression rather than an accusation.

“I asked you about your future.”

It was only then that the young boy remembered meeting a man on the street. Being weary of strangers he hadn’t answered the question and had hurried on with his business. Now, in the company of said man, it seemed as though he’d erred. He felt he could have at least courteously replied, instead of simple walking away. A guilty feeling crept over him.

Before having a chance to say anything his father returned and lay down on the bed next to them. At that precise moment a small knowing smile crept across both their faces. In that instant the young boy knew who the older man was. The giveaway was how the left side of their mouths curled in exactly the same way when they smiled presenting a small friendly grin.

His grandfather hugged his father who had started to cry. They young boy felt strange and at peace. Strange because his father never cried. At peace because of the love emanating from his grandfather.


It was then that I awoke. Feeling shaken and disturbed I wondered - Who was this man? If he was my father’s father then who was my grandfather? I was left with a burning desire to find out more.