Just a Peek

Every time I visit my grandmother, I always see the window in the attic, sheet draped over it from the inside. I never bothered me, and I never asked her about it. It wasn’t until I was in my early twenties, and she was no longer fit to live by herself that I went over with the intention of helping clear out the home to prepare it to be sold. I don’t know why, but I immediately volunteered to work on the attic. I would’ve said then that it was because I wanted to see all of the old relics that had to be stored up there, like in those movies. The space filled from floor to ceiling with old objects and trinkets of a life, long passed. However, now I can admit to myself it was because of that window.

               For some reason, I was drawn to it. Why was it covered? Was she hiding something in the attic? With an eagerness I barely kept contained, I made my way up to the top floor and looked up at the string dangling lazily from the ceiling door. Slowly and stretched out my hand and grasped the cord, giving it a small tug. It didn’t move much, so I pulled harder. Something seemed to catch, but I continued to pull until it broke free. The door creaked open as it dropped, the ladder folded up against it.

               I quickly reached out and grabbed ahold of the ladder, extending it to the floor so I could go up. A musty smell floated down, and I scrunched my nose. It definitely smelled old up there. As I ascended the ladder, I felt a giddiness I hadn’t felt before fill inside me. I would finally see what was in this old attic.

               Nothing. Well, nothing of note. I felt deflated and cheated. Looking around, I could see a few boxes, an old mattress leaned up against the wall, and a few pieces of broken furniture that grandpa probably wanted to fix up before he passed away. Moving over to the boxes, I opened them up and began rummaging through them to see if anything of note was in them. What I found were lots of pictures, their wedding dress and suit, and many other little trinkets. A smile grew on my face with I picked up a small, worn piece of paper that had the words ‘Wedding Vows’ sloppily written at the top. I tucked it back into the box and stood up.

               My eyes drifted over to the sheet that was hanging over the window, and with a sigh of disappointment, I walked over and gripped the fabric, tugging it off. The nails holding the sheet in place didn’t budge and with a loud rip, the sheet was in tatters at my feet. I grimaced and dropped to my knees, holding it up to see how bad the damage was. I send out a silent prayer, hoping that it didn’t matter if it was now in pieces when a leaf, green and fresh, gently landed on the back of my hand. Startled, I looked up.

               A tree was standing there, just outside of the window, gently swaying in the wind. My mind immediately rationalized that it was just the tree in grandma’s front yard. Except, grandma didn’t have a tree. My eyes looked back down at the leaf still sitting on my hand. I automatically dropped the torn sheet and with my other hand, plucked the stem off my hand. I turned it over as I observed it, confusion setting in. The window was closed, wasn’t it? If there was a breeze, why wasn’t the sheet moving?

               I stood back up and slowly leaned in towards the window. My hand was trembling as I reached out, my mind racing for logical conclusions to what I was witnessing. Maybe one of the glass panes was not in the window and the breeze was so minimal that it didn’t make the sheet move enough to be noticed. That and the leaf just happened to go through the only missing pane. In addition, a tree just suddenly sprouted into adulthood so that it could be seen this high up. I looked down through the old opening, noting that that was most certainly not my grandmother’s yard. My hand closed the distance and connected with… nothing. I could reach through as if the window was not there. Startled, I pulled my hand back, but something caught it. With a surprised yelp, I saw another hand holding mine.

               A face poked up with a smile that could challenge the sun with how bright it was. It was, however, quickly replaced with a frown as if they were expecting someone else. It was a boy, though rather small for a boy. He looked like a doll in his size.

               “You aren’t Ruth.” He spoke, cutting through the silence.

               “Ruth? My grandmother?” I wasn’t sure if I was hallucinating at this point or not, but I thought it would be rude to not reply.

               That seemed to perk him up. I knew her and that made him a bit happier. He asked me so many questions about her. Where was she now? How was she doing? Why didn’t she come to visit anymore? I answered them all to the best of my ability, but I had to admit to him that I didn’t know the answer to the last one.

               I had forgotten my discomfort quickly and we talked for what felt like hours. What I was supposed to be doing was lost from my mind. I learned through all of this that his own name was Dillon. Halfway through a story I was telling him, I heard my name being called. I snapped back to attention and blinked. I looked to the entrance of the attic to see my mom standing there, concern on her face.

               “Leah, are you okay? You seemed to have been spaced out.”

               I looked at her confused before looking back to the window. Surely, she saw the boy in the window. What I saw when I looked back, however, was just the sky. The tree was gone. I looked back at the sheet on the floor before looking back to my mom with a smile.

               “Sorry, was just concerned about this sheet I accidently ripped when trying to pull it down.” I answered with the best lie I could.

               That seemed to put her at ease, and she motioned for me to come down as it was getting late. With a nod I stood up, pausing when I saw something move out of the corner of my eye. The leaf I was holding was still there. I reached down and picked it up. It was real, and I had proof, at least for myself. I tucked it into the pocket of my jeans and followed my mom down. I would be back.

               Yes, I would be back.