The Grandfather Clock

The Grandfather Clock

Grandma Arlene’s house screamed of old lady. The wallpaper was an ugly shade of yellow, and the carpet was a dingy shade of brown. Instead of a tv hanging on the wall, Grandma had a fireplace with all our pictures on it and a small tin full of mints. Instead of a computer, she had multiple bookshelves full of books I’d never seen before, and puzzles that were always missing pieces. 

Grandma’s table always had crossword puzzles on it too. Unfortunately, they were either finished or asked questions I didn’t know the answers to. But there was one thing in Grandma’s house that really screamed old lady. And that was the grandfather clock that stood in the entranceway of the house. 

It’s been here since I was little, and I don’t understand why she still has it. The hands on the clock never move and I never hear it chime. It’d be better if she got a digital one. Then I could tell the time on it easier, instead of remembering my roman numerals. 

“Mom?” I asked, looking up at her. Currently, my mom was taking her shoes off at the door. Grandma was very specific about us leaving them by the door. 

“Yes, Luke?” 

“Why doesn’t Grandma get a new clock?” 

“Well, honey -” 

“Because I don’t need a new one,” Grandma said, coming around the corner. She tilted her head, her glasses sliding down her face slightly as she smiled.

“Grandma!” I smiled, running over to her and giving her a hug. Grandma smiled again as she hugged me tightly. 

“It’s good to see you again, Luke.” I smiled up at her as she turned her attention to mom. “It’s good to see you too honey.” Mom gave a small smile. 

“But, Grandma,” I started, looking up at her. “You do need a new clock! This one doesn’t work!” 

Grandma gave a small smile, “Well, that’s because it’s been in our family for generations, dear. It’s a very old clock. I’d be more surprised if it did work!” She laughed. “In fact, why don’t I show you something.” 

With that, Grandma turned and headed towards the living room. I looked up at Mom, who just smiled and placed her hand on my back to guide me to the living room. 

Once there, Mom guided me to Grandma’s couch, and the two of us sat down. “What’s she going to show us, Mom?” I asked. 

“You’ll just have to wait and see,” I frowned and watched as Grandma made her way to one of the bookshelves. She ran her fingers over some of the books until she came across a large white binder. 

“Here we go!” She said, picking it up. She turned and sat down on the other side of me. 

“What is that, Grandma?” I asked, leaning over. 

“This is one of the oldest photo albums that I have.” She said, opening the album. The first page had four pages and a lot of scribbled handwriting that I couldn’t read. The first photo was in black and white and showed a family of four sitting on a couch, the grandfather clock sitting beside the couch. 

“Who are those people?” I pointed to the picture.

“That,” Grandma pointed at the tallest man, “is your great-great-great-great-great-grandfather,” She squinted, leaning down to read the writing scribbled next to the picture. “Earl Glandchester.” Her finger moved to the woman sitting on the other side of the couch, “And this is his wife, Sandra Glandchester, and these are your great-great-great-great grandmas, Linda and Cassandra.” 

I squinted, looking closer at the clock. The hands were in a much different position than the one they were in now. My eyes moved over to the next picture. 

This one showed three people, also sitting on a couch, but the clock had moved to the other side of the picture. The hands on the clock, were once again, in a much different position. I frowned, slightly. It’s weird to think that thing used to work. I wonder why it stopped?

“That’s Cassandra,” Grandma said, pointing at the tall woman in the picture. She moved her finger over to the bearded man in the picture, “And that is her husband.” Grandma paused, leaning down to read the writing again. “James. And their beautiful boy, William.” 

Grandma moved on to the next picture. This picture was in color and showed five people, all happily posing together on a couch. The clock had once again moved to the other side of the room. The hands were once again in a different position.  “And there’s William, and his wife, Carol. And their three kids, William Jr., Melissa, and I think her name was Giselle.” 

Grandma flipped the page revealing another set of pictures. How many of these were there? “There’s Melissa, and her husband, Tim. And, look closely Luke,” She pointed to the little girl in the picture. “That is your great-grandma and my mother. Her name was Vanessa.” 

“Wow.” Great-grandma Vanessa looked to be around my age in the picture. She wore a small blue dress with a pink ribbon across the middle, and black shoes. She was smiling up at the camera and had a blue ribbon in her black hair. 

Before Grandma could move on, I cast another glance at the clock. Once again, the hands were in a different position. This clock had worked for a very long time before it had broken. 

“And this is how I remember your great-grandma,” Grandma pointed to the next picture. In this picture, Great-grandma Vanessa was standing behind a chair, wearing a long black dress. She also wasn’t smiling in this picture. Instead, she had this sad and weary look on her face, and her eyes were looking toward the little girl in the chair. 

The little girl also wore a black dress and was looking more toward the floor, than the camera. “Is that you, Grandma?” I asked, looking up. 

Grandma gave me a small, sad smile. “It is. This was taken shortly after my father, your great-grandfather died.” 

“Oh.” I frowned, looking back down at the picture. Why would Grandma keep this picture if it made her so sad? My eyes moved back toward the clock. Wait a-

“Grandma!” I pointed at the clock, “Look! It’s the same time as the clock now!” 

Grandma looked at the picture, then back towards the grandfather clock. “Yes, it is.” She smiled, shutting the book. “My mother broke the clock shortly after my father’s passing. It’s been in our family for so long though, that she decided to keep it.” 

“And one day,” Mom said for the first time since we started, “the clock we belong to you and me. And then it’ll belong to your kids, and their kids, and so on.” 

“Does that mean, we’ll have our picture in the book?” I asked. 

“It sure does,” Grandma said, “Let me find my camera, and we’ll put one in right now.”