Remember, p.8
Remember, page 8
He had been to several churches growing up, all different religions. Dragged there by the parents of friends when he stayed over on a Saturday night. Even one for a kid that had been killed in a drunk driving accident when he was in high school. But he had never seen the appeal of it, and when everyone bowed their heads, he often found himself looking around feeling out of place. Knowing that he did not belong.
“Can I help you?” Gary Portman said from behind.
“Hello Pastor Portman.” Johnny said as he turned. “I was seeing if there was anything else you needed from me for my grandfather’s service?”
“John Everleaf? Boy you sure have grown since the last time I saw you.”
Gary Portman with his stocky short frame stood in the doorframe — with his ‘I Love Jesus’ coffee cup. Johnny remembered when he thought the man towered over him, but now he barely came to his chest. His pinky finger missing from a table saw accident some years ago, that caused some of the town to joke that he had ate it off when he took a bite of a sandwich. A cruel joke, but one that Johnny had once thought was funny.
“It’s been a while.”
“I remember when you barely stood to my chest.” Gary said as he walked down the aisle. Each step a little shaky. “I think we are all set up. I believe we are just waiting on your mother to hit town. Still struggling with the weather, I hear.”
“Yes. I just got off the phone with her. She says she is going to try in the next two days or so.”
“Your grandfather would’ve wanted all of you here for him anyways so I can wait a few more days.”
“I appreciate your understanding.”
“Come here to pray?”
“Honestly Pastor Portman. I haven’t found much credit in praying”
“You don’t always have to pray to God. You could try talking it out with your grandfather. I’m sure he is eager to hear from you.”
Johnny bite his tongue.
“It would just be my own internal voice bouncing around my head with my mind justifying any grieve I might have. The dead can’t answer me.”
“Have a little faith John.” Gary Portman said taking a sip from his coffee cup. “Sometimes that is all you need. An outlet for the grief, even if it’s just you forgive yourself.”
“I’ll keep that in mind Pastor Portman.” Johnny said. “I should be going. I have a few more things to do today. I’ll be back just before the funeral.”
“Of course.” Gary Portman took another sip from his cup. “My door is always open if you need to talk.”
Johnny nodded slightly at the last comment. He did not need advice from a drunk. He stormed towards the front door, glancing back once which caused him to be caught off guard by Gretchen Olson coming through the front doors.
“Johnny Everleaf.” She exclaimed which made Johnny jump.
Gretchen Olson was a large woman, if Johnny had to guess she weighed a little over three-hundred pounds with a waddle that helped her shuffle along. According to his grandfather she did not always look like this and at one point claimed that she was a good-looking woman, but years of eating sweets had wrecked any resemblance of that body. She could normally be found sitting in front of her large bay window with her binoculars watching everything and everyone that went across it. She had always had her thumb on the pulse of the town, she was the first to know anything.
“Hello Mrs. Olson.” Johnny said caught off guard by her.
“Just look at you. As tall as your granddad and just as handsome.”
“That is kind of you. What are you doing here?”
“Oh, I come help Gary on some days. Cleaning and the like. Get me out of the house a few times a week. Doctor says it’s good for me.”
“That’s kind of you.”
“How is Gabriel treating you? You getting enough food? If not, you could always stop by and I’ll whip up a batch of cookies or something sweet. A pinch of sweet to help melt the sorrow away my mother always said.”
“No. He is feeding me just fine. In fact, he has been a great host. He almost had me fooled into thinking that he could guess my name before admitting that you called him.”
“That is good. He seems like a nice enough man. Always brings back my dishes washed. Can always tell a good man if he can do some chores around the house, just like my Bobby.”
Robert (Bobby) Olson had been Gretchen’s husband for nearly twenty years before he died of a stroke one day. Johnny remembered very little about him, besides that when he stopped to talk with his grandfather he was always covered in grease and dirt. His grandfather would say that she killed him with all the sweets.
“I’ll have to remember that.”
“Don’t tell me a good-looking young man like yourself hasn’t settled down yet. Your mother must be devastated, can’t keep her waiting for grandchildren.”
“To quote my mother, she isn’t old enough to have grandchildren.”
“Your mother always was an odd duck.”
“I will have to agree with you. Though I should be going Mrs. Olson. Lots to do still.” He lied.
“Well don’t let me keep you.” She said with a smile as she stepped out of his way. “Though I wouldn’t be running back to little Luna’s home yet? Going home at such a late hour, got to give that girl a rest you know.”
Johnny had walked right in front of Gretchen’s window view going back to the B&B not that had been on his mind last night. He felt his face turn red from the embarrassment and it only worsened when she winked at her. He nodded and gave a small laugh as he exited the church.
***
Johnny entered his grandfather’s home once more. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting but he at least felt like his grandfather was still within these walls, not the church. The home was still as silent and eerily empty, he slowly approached the old green chair and took a seat in it. His hands running down the micro-fiber — several stains matted the fabric together — and rocked himself. The two windows overlooked out into the pasture, where if someone was to come down the drive, he could see them.
He turned on the light that sat on the end-table clattered with pill bottles and knick-knacks. His grandfather’s wallet laid hidden just below it and he reached for it. The thing was one of those tall ones, nearly six inches tall sealed with two snapping buttons. The edges of the leather worn from being opened over the years. Snapping the buttons, he opened it. Inside he pulled out a small bank envelope and opened it, two hundred-dollar bills laid neatly against the white of the envelope with a yellow sticky note attached to them. He took the note out and read the hastily written address. It was his address at the apartment.
He took a deep breath as he glanced away from the note. He felt ashamed, a sickening feeling that sank into his stomach and tied his guts into a knot. Stuffing the note back into the envelope he put it back into the wallet. Turning the middle folder, he stared as he felt the tears finally erupt from him. A picture of him and his grandfather when he played little league. He remembered the day as soon as he saw the picture, he had lost the game by overthrowing a ball to home. He had been so upset that he couldn’t even look his teammates in their disappointed faces, but his grandfather stole his hat from him. In a blink he had almost forgot the lost game and instead it became a wrestling match to get his hat back.
He laughed and sniffled as he attempted to keep himself from completely crying like a baby. He took the picture from the wallet and carefully put it into his own. He snapped the wallet closed and laid it back under the lamp. He wishes he could talk to his grandfather, say how sorry he was for not coming and seeing him. Tell him about how lost he felt, but he wanted to be a good strong man and that had meant he never could bring himself to say the words. Closing his eyes, he rocked in the chair, it was comfortable and despite knowing that his grandfather had passed away in it. It brought him some peace to be close to the last thing that he had sat in. Even the creaking didn’t bother him like it had when he was younger, now it sang a beautiful calming melody.
His phone rang and startled him as he dug it out of his pocket. It was his mother and for a moment he thought about not answering it. He slides his finger across the screen.
“Johnny did you hang up on me early?”
“No. Must be the service here.”
“Yeah.” His mother said hesitantly accepting his answer. “Where are you right now?”
“I’m at grandpas. Just sitting here really.”
He wiped the tears away from his face and cleared his throat in hopes that he could hide that he had been crying to her.
“How’s the house look? Do you think it’s in good enough shape?”
“For what?”
“Well after the funeral we will have to put it up for sale.” There was a silence between them for a moment. “Unless you want it. You already have a place.”
“No. I don’t want it. I just figured we would at least talk about it first.”
“Well me and Tony were talking and after you figure the taxes it’s really not worth it and we aren’t close enough to rent it out. I’m sure Mr. McCain has already been snooping around, he’s always been interested in the land.”
“Tony is not part of the decision making for our family.”
“John don’t start now. We are married and we decide things together.” Her tongue lingered on the last word.
“Well good to know my decision counts in your discussion ‘together.’”
“Johnny if you want the place, we can discuss that when I get there but there is no reason to sound so bitter about this. You’re an adult now you must understand. It would be good for us and we both could get some money out of this.”
The feeling of ashamed had vanished and was replaced with disgust and hatred. Hatred he never had felt towards his mother. He had always chalked up any idea that he didn’t agree with to Tony. Yet deep down he knew that was not the case. She had escaped her bonds of him and the little town, he wondered how often she thought about him or even her father. When had been the last time she called grandfather? Had it been a week, a month, or a few. She was no better than him in this.
“I’m hanging up now. You don’t have to wonder if I did.” He said as he clicked the end call button.
He took a deep breath, but it did little to calm him down. He needed a drink and a cigarette. A little victory for not completely blowing up at her. For not yelling into the phone and throwing it across the room. His phone began to ring, and he glanced down at his mother number. He hated his phone in that moment. Always be able to be contacted, on a leash to his mother, Jamie, even the telemarketers could ring him. He pressed the power button and the phone powered down as he sat it on the end table. It could stay there for today.
Chapter 7
Johnny found himself standing in the middle of the halls of the B&B, the walls were blurred in his peripheral, clearing only when he stared directly at them. Only the picture that hung on the walls now had changed, each frame holding a picture of a moment from his childhood. One when he was an only a baby in his grandfather’s arms — pictures that he had never seen before. He could feel with each step that it stomped down onto the now bare floorboards and no matter how many steps he took he could not get any closer towards the stairs. Instead only the pictures would change, fishing trips, late night movie nights, and even moments that he knew were never captured.
Stopping his mind began to rationalize that he was dreaming. A lucid one, but still a dream. One that he was trapped inside a hall where he was forced to look upon his own memories. He heard footsteps and glanced towards the stairs to see his grandfather standing at the top of the stairs. His whole body froze.
“Grandpa?”
There was silence between them. The figure of his grandfather just stood there without acknowledging him. Johnny knew it was only a depiction of what he wanted to see, to be able to talk to his grandfather one last time, but he still moved forward towards the figure. However just as before he never moved forward. The pictures on the walls flashed new memories with each step, flickering them into almost like a movie, parts from his life, some clearly parts of his subconscious playing tricks as he could see the woman Elisabeth scattered throughout his life. His hand reached out towards his grandfather as he felt the ground under him crumble and he fell into the darkness.
***
Johnny felt himself falling as he rolled himself off the bed and onto the floor. The sheets wrapped around him causing him to feel like he was caught in a spider web. Struggling he forced himself up and rubbed his head. Even in sleep he could not find a separation for what he was feeling. Looking up at the clock on the wall he watched the minute hand strike five past two and he wondered if this was going to be his new life. A nightmare a night and an abrupt early morning. He chuckled at the thought of not needing an alarm clock anymore, but that was only to comfort himself.
He wondered if Gabriel was still awake, but the thought faded as he wondered if the man slept. Rising from the bed he threw on the first shirt he could find and a pair of pajama pants. Exiting his room, he hoped to run into Gabriel and if he didn’t then he could use some fresh air, away from his bed, away from his dreams. His eyes glanced towards the paintings as he walked, looking for an oddity something that told him that he wasn’t just imagination the paintings in his dream — hoping that one held something similar to his dream, but if they held some secret in their brushstrokes they remained a secret. Stopping at the top of the stairs he looked at the light from under the rose room, it seemed to always be on. Mocking him, begging him to open the door and confront what laid beyond, but his mind told him that nothing stayed beyond it. Just an empty room with a light that for some reason continued to remain on.
Coming down the stairs he turned and went down the second flight. He wondered if Gabriel would think of him as a drunk. Rapping on the door there was a slight rustling beyond before it swung open with Gabriel standing before him.
“Do you not sleep?”
“Cat naps.”
“Must be great cat naps.”
“Many of the world’s greatest minds often took them. Johnny are you okay? You look pale?”
“Just been having these nightmares.”
Gabriel welcomed him in, and he took a seat, his body slumped into the chair and he could feel how tired his body was beginning to feel from the stress. Across from him he could see that Gabriel had been reading ‘Alice in Wonderland’ with a glass of what he could only assume was rum. Gabriel poured a second glass and handed it to him before taking the seat across from him.
“What kind of nightmares?”
Johnny tapped his index finger against the arm of the chair as he took a sip from the glass. He wasn’t even sure where to start, between being in the old school to his late-night fantasy about Elisabeth before he met her.
“I think it’s just stress. If the dream meant something it would be the same, but these are all different.”
“Do you think they mean something? Your mind trying to tell you something?”
“I don’t know. Some have to do with my grandfather, another about this building when I was younger.”
Gabriel remained silent, his hands folded into his lap and he patiently waited for Johnny to explain. Johnny chuckled at himself, here he was drinking rum at two in the morning with a man that he barely knew, and he was willingly being patient for him to talk. He was willing to listen even if Johnny did not know what to say.
“It’s not just dreams. My mother always said I have an overactive imagination. When I was younger, I swore up and down that I saw the grim reaper before my grandfather’s first heart-attack. Larry pointed out later that there was a stake of tires in the distance that I could have imagined it.” Johnny took a drink from his cup again. “I don’t believe in ghost, but since I came back, I swear that I have seeing my grandfather linger around me. In his chair rocking patiently for me to acknowledge him, even when I got drunk with Brad McCain, I saw him in the mirror of the bathroom, judging me.” Johnny trailed off at the idea that he felt his grandfather might be judging him.
“Why do you think you keep seeing your grandfather?”
“I don’t know. Maybe he is judging me for not coming and seeing him. Secretly he is haunting me.”
“I doubt your grandfather had any ill-will towards you. He only praised you and often said that he was happy to see you making your own life.” Gabriel leaned back in his chair, his eyes catching Johnny’s and he offered a soft smile. “He did not speak like he was your grandfather Johnny. He spoke to me as though you were his own son and he could not have been prouder. I know that it might be hard to take that with any credit from a man you hardly know, but I only would tell you the truth.”
“No, I appreciate it. It might take a few minutes for it to sink into my thick-skull, but it helps.” Johnny took another drink from the glass. He could use a cigarette, but he doubted if Gabriel smoked. “I also dreamt of meeting Elisabeth before she was here or at least someone that looked just like her.”
“Now that is mighty strange. Hopefully it was in a civil manner. Hate to tell Elisabeth that maybe she should postpone dinner with you until you had a few cold showers.”
Johnny shared a laugh with Gabriel.
“I think I’d just die from embarrassment. So how about we keep this between us?”
“That would be best. Though in all seriousness Johnny. Don’t be too hard on yourself. If your grandfather is lingering around you and that’s a big if, he is just watching out for you before he finally goes to rest.”
“Yeah. Thank you, Gabriel. I’ll finish my glass and try to get some more sleep.”
Gabriel seemed in thought for a moment. As he raised from his seat and refilled Johnny’s glass.
