Neighbours left home-made pies, lamb lasagna and casseroles on my porch. The greeting cards with petty, impersonal messages written in ink crammed tightly in the mailbox. Ebbing Endrobium orchids withered in front of my doorstep. I’m growing sick and tired of these sympathetic gestures. Taut, feeble smiles were directed at me, everywhere I go. In response, I glowered at them menacingly. I mean, what’s wrong with these people?I need a break from this.
I refused to listen to my mother’s words, spoken against my grandmother, noone talks about my Grandma Lynn that way.
With the few banknotes left in my strawberry jam jar, I bought myself a train ticket to Birmingham. I alighted from the crowded train once I reached my destination, pushing through the crowd as I stepped out to the platform under the shelter. The sky began to thunder and pound heavily on the thatched roof, like the butter churn my grandmother religiously abides to using even though she was perfectly aware it was the 21st century in which we’re living in. I spoke to the herald, I asked if he’s seen my grandmother around. He merely looked at me as if I grew a third eye. I checked my watch: Fifteen minutes passed. She ought to be here by now.
I rummaged through my pockets and dragged out a fag and lighter, I decide it’s best I move along. So I left the train station, smoking my cigarette. I walked along the streets until I reached the familiar Chinese restaurant.
I had made a reservation earlier, I sat down at the table and order food for two. I poured steaming, fragrant tea into separate cups. I looked around for a semaphore of Grandma Lynn, she’s nowhere to be found. I made the supposition that she’s just stuck in traffic, she’ll be here soon.
Once she shows up, (which will be any second now)we’ll be chatting and she’ll be showing me magic tricks. My favourite one is when she pulls a silver coin from behind my ears, that always makes me laugh. Hours ticked by, the restaurant emptied and so did the tea in my cup, but I didn’t give up. I kept waiting , waiting and waiting.
The manager approached me, informed me the restaurant was closing for the day, and that she would prefer if i didn’t hang around for so long on Sundays because she has other customers to make business from. She told me she’s sorry for my loss.
I thought persistency will bring anyone good fortune. Grandma Lynn always told me so. So why isn’t she here already?