Predictions No 3

Predictions No 3

It was very dark and smelt musty. I couldn’t see a thing and I felt uneasy, as if I shouldn’t have come.

I had been summoned to his bedside, and I really didn’t know him. I’d heard the stories, strange and sometimes creepy stories. Tales about mean and nasty things he did to people whom he took a dislike to. “I don’t like my wife” he had said, and a few weeks later her twisted and broken body was found down the well. I never heard how he got away with it, but I believed the story.

Now here I was, slowly walking toward the bed of the man who ‘needed to see me before he passed’. ‘Just you’ he had written.

Mother had laughed when I showed her the scrawly hand writing giving me instructions. “He’s just a sad old man who kept himself hidden away from all of us. We all tried, we really did. Your father did everything in his power to get that old man to either come and live with us or go into a nursing home. But he just refused. He’s lived in that dark, cold house, on his own for goodness knows how many years, up until he employed a woman a few years ago – I suppose it’s a housekeeper but who knows? Even after his wife died, he stayed there all on his own”. “I thought he killed her?” I interrupted. “Oh don’t be so ridiculous Tim. Of course he didn’t. That’s just a story that someone made up years ago”. “Well I’m still not keen on going to see him”.  “Tim, he could want to leave you some money. He’s just a senile old man now, and don’t forget he is your Grandfather”. I replied “He might be my Grandfather by birth but I’ve probably seen him about three times during my whole twenty two years of life” and then I thought to myself ‘Although some money would be nice’.

So here I was in my Grandfather’s huge bedroom. An old woman had let me in. I supposed she was the housekeeper. I thought she looked ‘witch-like’. I was expecting bats to be hanging from the light fittings and to maybe walk into some cobwebs.

The ‘housekeeper’ steered me over to the four poster bed – I was thinking that the room could have been the set from a Hitchcock movie and I shuddered. I kicked something on the floor but it was so dark I had no idea what it was.

“Come right over here Tim and sit on the edge of the bed” a gravelly little voice, sounding low and rough told me. It was hard to see what the man looked like without squinting but what I could see was that he wore a large beanie on his tiny head, coming right down almost covering his eyes, and some sort of necklace around his neck – made from black beads. It was childlike and simple.

I did as I was told – by this stage I just wanted to hear what he had to say and get the hell out of it.

His parchment hands grabbed one of mine and I tried to pull it free. For a wizened old man, he had a strong grip. ‘I bet he did kill his wife’ was the thought that raced through my mind. “There’s no need to be shy Tim “he rasped. “We may not have seen much of each,’ wheeze, wheeze’, other but I am your Grandfather, and I know you well - from beginning to end”. He had been sitting half up against his pillow but fell back down after this effort of conversation. I had no idea what he had just said but it freaked me out a little. “Umm, yes, we haven’t seen much of each other” was all I could think of to say. I just wanted to go now, to get out. He could keep all of his money. But he had other ideas. After another attempt of grabbing my hand, and succeeding, he started again. “When you were a baby your father brought you…….”he began and then started to cough. A light cool breeze from the top of the window was blowing the curtain slightly and allowing a sliver of light to sneak in, letting me see more clearly. His thin chest went up and down quickly with each cough and his blue rheumy eyes watered, some of the clear liquid running down his face. He lifted his thin arm and wiped his cheek with the sleeve of whatever it was he was wearing, night attire of some sort. He gradually caught his breath and continued -”your father brought you to see me, the first born grandchild. I could see your life from beginning to end” he continued. ‘What does he mean by that?’ I was by now desperate to get out of there. “Look umm Grandad, I really have to go now. I’ll come back and see you again when I have more time” I lied and stood up. “I need to give you something” and he motioned towards a chest pushed against the far wall. ‘Now this is more like it’ I thought, contemplating that the chest was full of coins or jewellery. As I went to lift the lid of the dark wooden chest, he called out, coughing with the exertion of trying to get out of bed himself, “On top of the chest, in the envelope, take it with you and read it later”. I picked it up and put the envelope in my pocket and just as I did, the housekeeper walked in. “I think your Grandfather needs a rest now. Thank you for coming” and with that I was dismissed. I called out to the old man from the doorway, promising to return, but knowing ‘not in a million years’!

I wanted to wait until I got home to open the envelope. I had it in my pocket and felt for the slim package reassuringly. ‘How intriguing’ I thought, and an idea did cross my mind that he might even leave his house to me and I was mentally picturing myself living in the grand old building.

I parked my car and walked inside to be greeted by a very inquisitive mother. “Well?” she started, “what did he want?” “Mum I haven’t even opened the envelope yet. Give me a chance will you. I am so glad to be out of that place. It’s super creepy and so is he”. “An envelope?” she queried as I ripped it apart.

‘I knew what your future was when you were brought to me at six weeks of age. Your dark eyes shone like onyx, the central light allowing me to see straight through to your end of life. I wrote it all down at that moment and this is what I have been keeping to give to you. I wanted you to have it when I was gone. I have known what your life would be for always and now that I will soon be drifting above the clouds, it will be acted out exactly as it is stated on these pages. I myself have always known what my life would be like, as my Grandfather told me as a young boy, and passed on his gift of ‘telling the future to only ever one person’, and I chose you Tim. Enjoy your years.  It was signed ‘From your Grandfather’.

I had read the note out aloud to my Mother and we both sat motionless on the bed digesting it. “I think he’s just a crazy old man. Did I go and see him when I was six weeks old?” “Well your Dad did take you not long after you were born, and then we moved away for a few years. I’m not sure that it was six weeks, it could have been, or you could have been a few months. I’m not really sure Tim”. The whole thing, the visit, the explanation and now what’s supposed to be my future has given me the creeps, unsettled me really. I wish I’d never gone to see him. “I think it’s a lot of rubbish but I’ll see what he’s written on the other sheet of paper anyway – could be a laugh”. “I haven’t got time to read it with you, I was supposed to leave ten minutes ago so let me know what it says Tim”. “Yeah ok I yelled a few seconds later, as she was rushing out of the front door.

I felt slightly unnerved.

After reading it slowly I didn’t know what to think. Was I dreaming and would wake up soon? In books and movies, people always pinch themselves to see if they are awake, so I did and it hurt! I’m definitely awake, but what do I think of it all? Do I believe in people being able to tell the future of others? Well for a start, I can’t remember much of what happened to me when I was a kid. I mean I knew I broke my arm when I was five – not that I remember it clearly. It’s what I’ve been told. The old man would have known it too – he was the Grandfather. So what he’s written up to now doesn’t mean he predicted it……my father only died three years ago and surely even if he never physically saw his own Father, he must have communicated in some way, phone, letters?

I should have been satisfied with my own explanation. I was starting to think it was all madness and  my Grandfather was a little mad himself - I mean all this cloak and dagger stuff with being summoned to the house and the old chest – but regardless, for some reason I had an uneasy feeling. ‘I’m not even going to give it a second thought’ I told myself. I just wish I hadn’t seen the forecast for my future – written in black ink on a foolscap piece of paper. I couldn’t forget what it said, predicted.

From the age of twenty two he had only written down three major events that would happen in my life. The first one was marriage. I did meet a wonderful girl and marry her. When I read that my future wife’s name would start with the letter Z, I didn’t think there was much chance of that. I had never heard of a girl’s name starting with that letter.

As we stood at the table ready to sign the registry for the marriage certificate I caught my breath as my new wife signed ‘Zyleena’…..”You didn’t tell me that Leena was short for something?” I said to her. “I hate Zyleena. It was picked by my Grandmother and means “One who walks in the forest’ – I mean, what the heck!! Why does it matter anyway?” “It doesn’t I guess. Just something I hadn’t thought about in quite a while. I’ll tell you when we’re alone”. And as we finished the signings I put it out of my mind. I was ready to enjoy the rest of the evening.

When Leena and I had been married for over a year, she found out that she was pregnant. We were both overjoyed at the idea of being parents and were really looking forward to it. Every now and then I couldn’t help but think back to the second prediction my Grandfather had made, and I had read. I wanted to truly believe that it was just a load of old rubbish and I shouldn’t even give it a thought, but this one was more worrying and always floating in my mind and drifting closer to the front of my thoughts with each passing month. One night not long before the birth, Leena was asleep when I stealthily crept into the shed and opened the locked box that I kept the letter in. I was saying out loud “This is absolute rubbish and I will burn it” but a part of me just wanted to read it one last time before it turned into ash and I threw it to the wind. YOU WILL BE DEEPLY SADDENED IMMEDIATELY AFTER THE BIRTH OF YOUR CHILD it read. I rubbed my face and ran my fingers through my hair. ‘Please don’t let anything happen to our baby’ I prayed.

 But it wasn’t about our perfect little baby boy, it was Leena. “She haemorrhaged after giving birth and died on the operating table. I wanted to die too and go with her. I was devastated and grief gripped me as if in a vice, squashing the air out of my lungs, feeling as if I couldn’t breathe. I knew that I had to be strong for our little boy because he needed me. And deep inside I knew I needed him.

I made a vow to myself the night I burnt the list and scattered the dark ashes to the wind that I would never think about it again. The last thing on the paper would be cast away with the dust.

 Each milestone that I celebrated in life made me realise that it does pass very quickly. James grew from a baby to a teenager in what seemed like the blink of an eye. We always talked about Leena and what she would have loved about our son. I never told James about my visit to my Grandfather or the predictions. I kept it all to myself. One day, out of the blue, my Mother did ask me what had been written on the extra piece of paper. I told her that I couldn’t remember and would never know as I had burnt it. She may have been getting on in years but her mind was still as sharp as ever. By the look on her lined face I don’t think she believed me but said nothing.  She had something else on her mind! “Tim, I know you won’t like me saying this, but…” I thought I knew what she was going to say – there had been hints given out every now and then for the last few months! “James is almost eighteen now and ready to go to Uni. You know he will have to board away and so of course you will be on your own a lot, so I thought…” I caught her off guard by pre-empting what she was about to say. ”I know what you are thinking Mum, and the answer is no. You have introduced me to a few ‘suitable’ widows and divorcees and I’m not interested, thank you”. “But Tim you are still so young, and might I add, handsome!” “I know you mean well, but I can’t do it. I’m sorry. I have my reasons Mum. I’m due at a meeting shortly, so I will need to go”. And with that I left.

“Tim, this restaurant is so expensive. I mean it’s just lovely but we could have eaten someone a little less lavish. Is there a celebration I’ve forgotten about? I know I’m getting a bit dotty but I’m sure I haven’t forgotten either of your birthdays…have I?” “Gran, if Dad wants to splash out on us, let him. I’m all for it! Hey Dad did you win Lotto or something?” Tim sat back in his seat and looked at the two most important people in his life. “Well no I didn’t come into any money. It’s just about time I told you both how much you mean to me. James you’ve been at Uni for a year now and I’m so proud of what you’re achieving. I may not always tell you how I feel, so this is my way of saying what a great son you are to me and how much I love you. Tim’s Mum wiped away a falling tear with the back of her hand and smiled at her son and grandson. “And Mum” Tim continued after thinking carefully about what he would say, “I could never have raised James on my own after Leena died. You have always been here for both of us and unconditionally put us first and for that I will always be grateful and love you. “Well now it’s my turn to say something. I have been blest with the most wonderful son and grandson I could ever have asked for. I’m getting on a bit now but one day when I’m gone I want you both to remember this night because it’s special”.  “Oh Mum” Tim thought, but held his tears in.

It had been a freak accident really. All Tim heard were the frantic screams of the mother “My baby’s on the road. Get my baby”. The little toddler had wandered away from his front yard and on to the busy road. His mother hadn’t noticed he was missing at first and then saw the open gate, and seeing him stepping off the curb started running towards him. Cars were oblivious to the small child now standing on the traffic island. Tim had seen the boy after hearing the screams and had raced across the road himself. A station wagon hurtling around the corner didn’t have time to stop, and as Tim frantically trying to scoop the child into his arms, had hit him. Tim had his outstretched arms within centimetres of the child. The traffic had come to a standstill  and the ambulance arrived, sirens piercing the air. Tim lay, completely covered by the white sheet. “Did he say anything?” asked the policeman to the attending medic. “Yes he did – not sure what it meant though. It was ‘Number Three’.