Gramps

Nine-year-old Audra Johnson--who had a flair for the dramatic--was wadding up pieces of composition paper as loudly as she could and flinging them into the fire with an audible groan-like sign. Her grandfather, Tom—who couldn’t help but notice this since she had to walk by his chair to reach the fireplace—decided to finally take the bait.

“What seems to be the problem? Auddie,” he said over the top of the magazine he was reading.

“I have to write a dumb, stupid, jerky story for Mrs. Marsden’s class,” she whined.

“So what’s the problem?”

“I don’t know any stories.”

“That’s the point—you have to make one up.”

“Hoooowww?” The level of angst in her voice was palpable. “I don’t know where to start.”

“Well, the best place is to start with something you know.”

“I don’t know anything.”

“Auddy, stop being silly. Of course, you do. Write a story about Gus.”

“Gus? Gus?! Gus is just a stupid dog!”

“I thought he was your best friend.”

“Well, he sort of is.  But I don’t know what to say about Gus. He’s just a…a…dog.”

“I have an idea, how about you start by telling the story of the day we got him. It doesn’t have to be the whole story. Just describe it—you know--what it felt like the first time you saw him.”

“I don’t know…” she was in full whine. No one cares about me getting Gus. It’s gonna be lame…”

“Perhaps,” he said patiently, “but sometimes all you need is to get started. And starting with something familiar will make that easier. Trust me, Peanut. Just try.”

“OK, but I thought we agreed no more calling me Peanut.”

“Yes, I know, it’s lame. Oh, and put some light on so you don’t go blind,” he called after her, noticing how dimly lit the room was with only the flickering fire to light it.

“OK!,” she called back.

After a few minutes, Audra picked up the paper and sat down next to him near the fire. “Do you want to hear it so far, Gramps?”

“Love to,” he said, putting down his magazine.

My dog Gus by Audra J. Johnson

It was a dark and stormy night--

“Audra, really that is so…” he wanted to say “cliché”, but he wasn’t sure how he’d explain what it meant. “Isn’t there another way to open your story?”

“What do you mean? I thought you said to write about something real.”

“I did, but...” 

“So the night we picked up Gus was dark and stormy.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle. “Fair enough. Continue please.”

“OK, so how about this?” She ran over to the table and scribbled something on the page then back to her place in front of the fire.

MyDogGusByAudraJJohnson she said quickly.

It was a stormy and dark night.

She looked up to see her grandfather’s reaction. He nodded in approval.

We got a phone call that our new puppy was ready to pick up. We were very eggcited to get Gus that was the name I coozed for him already. Then we drove and drove into the ass end of nowhere…

“You may need to clean that one up Aud.”

“How about boondocks?”

“Better.”

“How do you spell it?”

“B-o-o-n-d-o-c-k-s,” he replied.

We drove and drove into the boondocks and finaly came to a grate big farm. The road was very bumpy and it was very very dark and did not have street lights so we could not see two feet in front of our faces.

Then she--

“Wait, who’s she?”

“The woman who gave us Gus.”

“Well maybe say that and describe her a bit.”

She ran back to the table, scribbled on the page, and then returned to her place in by the fire.

“OK.” 

The woman who gave us Gus opened the door because we were knocking very, very hard because we were geting wet. She was old as dirt and had bad teeth.

“I’m not sure the old as dirt and bad teeth part really adds anything.”

“But she was old and she did have bad teeth—you said so yourself.”

“Perhaps, but it isn’t very kind to speak about people that way—to focus on the negatives. Was she nice? Did she have a sweet smile?”

“Not really.”

“Well think about it—maybe you can come up with something. Please proceed.”

“OK, where was I?” She scanned to the point she left off.

Then she said hello! I have been specting you! Why are you so late? Then my Gramps said, sorry we got lost. It is very dark and raining cats and dogs. It always makes me laff when he says that cuz I think of cats and dogs faling from the sky. Anyways then I said where is my beutiful new puppy? Then she said follow me. So me and Gramps follow her and then we were in a big room and it had a big pen and lots and lots of puppies and also a lot of poop which made it stink to high heven.

“Is that last detail really necessary, Aud?”

“Well, it did stink to high heaven—remember how we were laughing when we got in the car and how you said we both needed to take a shower when we got home?”

“Yes, yes, I understand—you’re right it did stink—the whole house stank as I recall. But as a writer, you can choose the details you want to share with your reader. That’s all I’m saying.”

Audra sighed. “Well can I finish now?”

“Yes, please.”

Then out of all the puppies there was this one puppy. He wasn’t the bigest puppy but he was the pretiest. And he wasnt jumping all around all crazeballs like the other puppies. He was just sitting like a perfect little gentle man. So I looked at him real hard and in my head I said Are you my puppy? And then he looked at me back and I could tell he was saying YES! And then it’s like my heart felt really really full! It was like busting out of me the way that allien did in the movie but in a good way. And then I knew that Gus was the puppy for me! Now he is my BFF.

“I must say Audra, that’s a very good start.”

“So what now?” she asked.

“Well, why not talk about what it was like when you brought him home?”

“Gramps, do I really have to write my story about Gus?”

“Not if it doesn’t inspire you. You could write about school or your friends or about an experience you had. You could even make up a story about imaginary people and situations. That’s both the good and bad part about writing—your options are unlimited. The trick is to find something you’re passionate about—something that is in your heart--that you really want to share with people.”

“Something I’m passionate about…” Audra considered this and said, “you mean like something I love?”

“Yes, or something that inspired you, made you happy…or even made you sad.” He wasn’t sure this was the best advice to give a budding young writer, but her facial expression told him that something was clicking. “Writers sometimes use their stories to express their emotions—to tell how they feel about things…”

“OK, I think I have an idea,” she said excitedly.

“Great! That’s the first step.”

Audra went back to the table and started scribbling feverishly on the page. Occasionally she’d ask about a word—how do you spell stomach? Or what’s that word when you laugh really, really hard? 

“You mean like hysterical laughing?”

“Yes! How do you spell it?”

As always, her grandfather answered patiently giving her his full attention. After about an hour and her fourth yawn, she got up and said she was ready for bed.

“How’s your story coming along?” he asked.

“Good. It’s pretty much done.”

“Can I hear it?”

“Nah. I’m too tired. I’ll show it to you…sometime.”

“OK darlin’.  You know the drill—wash, brush…”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.”

She went over and gave her gramps a big hug. “I love you Gramps.”

“I love you too, Peanut--I mean Audra Jean.” She rolled her eyes and left for bed.

Tom read for a while longer. By this time the fire had died down to a few smoldering embers. He pushed his glasses up and rubbed the deep indentations on the bridge of his nose. As he tidied up for the night, he couldn’t help but see Audra’s story. It was the title that caught his attention. “The Best Time Of My Entire Life” by Audra J Johnson.

He wondered if she’d mind if he read it. She didn’t say it was private and she was going to show it to him sometime, even if that had sounded a bit vague. “Maybe I should wait until she reads it to me,” he thought. But that title—The Best Time Of My Entire Life; he wanted so much to know what time she wrote about. Such an enigma she was, this poor little angel who had endured more in her short life than some people did in a lifetime. But she seemed so well adjusted. Sure, she could be a drama queen, but at her core she seemed steady as a rock and surprisingly accepting of her circumstances. Sometimes he thought that her outwardly calm demeanor was masking a time bomb that could explode when least expected.  He hoped not. He hoped that despite it all, she would build the happy and successful life she deserved. He had certainly devoted himself to that cause and intended to do whatever was humanly possible to help her make it happen.

Now, as he contemplated the ethics of reading her story without her permission, he finally decided that he couldn’t bear to wait. He picked up the pages and started reading.

The Best Time Of My Entire Life by Audra J Johnson

It was a brite, sunny day. Me, my Gramps and Gram all got in the car and started driving to go to Disney world. It was my first reel vaccation. After awhile I felt sick in my stum stomach so we stopped because I was afraid if I puked out the window it would come back and hit me in my face. That made me laff but I was still going to puke so we stopped and I puked on the side of the rode. I felt better then and Gram said to lie back and try to get some sleep. After awhile she asked Gramps if I was going to be OK. He said I would be fine because I prolly was just over eggcited. She said NO was I going to be OK because of my parents being dead? She said gone not dead but I knew what she meant. Then Gramps said I was doing better than anyone could of spected. He said sure I was trammaticed but I was a tuff kid. I almost said hey Im awake, but I decided not to even though it kind of felt like it was fibing. Anyways, Gram said dont you think we hafta tell her the truth? Then Gramps said yes Ruth, but we will cross that bridge when it comz to us. Then my Gram said she has a rite to know what her father did. Then Gramps said yes but we can wait until she is older she isnt ready. I wanted to say I am ready Gramps! Because the kids at school told me all ready. At first I said it was a lie but then I just knew it was true. Then I wanted to say I been thinking abot it. And that even if my Dad killed my Mom I dont hate him. I mean I am VERY VERY VERY mad. But he was still my Dad. But I stayed quiet because I wasnt sure if Gram and Gramps would understand if I didnt hate my Dad even if he killed there dauter. They werent ready. Then Gram said should we send her to someone for help. At first I wasnt sure what she ment but then I did when Gramps said I wasnt going to no head shrinker which almost made me laff out loud.  She ment like the conssler at school Ms McGrady.

Anyways after awhile Gramps said he had to pee like a race horse so we had to stop again. I acted like I just woke up then. I wanted to tell them that I was OK really OK. That I missed my Mom and Dad so hard sometimes it feels like I cant breeth. But also I dont have to listen to Mom crying all the time and all the screeming and fighting all the time because that part scared me alot and made me sad. And that I feel safe now. More safer than I ever have in my life. But I didnt say anything because I dont want to make them sad. But I did hug them both xtra tite that night when we got to the shithole motel. Sometimes when I hug them I am scared to let go. But then I member that their not going anywhere. Gramps promissed me that.    

So the next day after alot more driving and cussing at other cars then we got to Disney. It was really really hot and Gramps said he was sweating like a pig and probally smelled like one of those dancing mooses in the show. That made me and Gram laff. Gramps always makes us laff. We ate ice cream every day and Gramps said he needed to stop or he would lay fots the hole way home. That made me hysterical laff! Also, we saw firewerks. And also we went to a place full of alligaters. Gramps said he wishes he had his shot gun but Grams said you dont have a shot gun.  Besides I told him I thout they were cute but he said only as a handbag and I said who makes handbags out of alligaters and he said youd be surprized.Im not sure what he ment.  On the way home Gramps told us stories about his Dad who fought in the big one which means a big war I no because I asked him what he ment. Anyways, Gramps Dad was a octa-something when he died which Gram said ment he was in his 8-ties. Older than dirt Gramps said. Gramps said he never had alot to say but he was the best man Gramps ever knew.  I said Why. He said he had more inteegrity in his little finger than most people have in their hole bodies. I said whats ineegrity? He said when someone does the right thing even if its not the easiest thing. And when they stand up for other people too. I said like when the kids at school tease fat old Billy Beason and Gram said don’t call him fat and I said why if hes fat and she said its not nice. Anyways, when they tease him I always feel sorry and share my lunch table with him. Gramps said thats exactly what its like Peanut. That is what he called me when I was a baby but he dont anymore. He said his dad taut him that everyone shud to be treated with digneety and resppect. And that no one is beneeth us.  I wanted to say Gramps you are the best man I ever knew but I didnt.

When we got home I was kinda sad because it was the most fun I ever had in my entire life. But I was also happy because I got to see my dog Gus who staied with the nice people across the street. Gramps got him for me and he is the best dog anyone could ever ask for. Sometimes I think Im the luckyest kid in the whole world.

Tom pulled off his glasses and wiped the tears from his eyes. “I’m the lucky one, Peanut.” he whispered, “I’m the lucky one.”