“I told you, my dear grandson. It’s still there.”
“I never would’ve thought. Dad told me it was probably gone by now. How long did you and grandpa live there?”
“He was there for 40 years. You look just like he did when we were young. I got a photo in a little box at your dad’s house. I’ll show it to you.”
“Mom told me I looked like him. I’d love to see the photo.”
“I was at the farm a few more years before I moved in with y’all. The damn road. It killed him. Cut right through the middle of the farm. Nothing was the same after that. He never planted another crop. Died within a year.”
“I’m sorry, grandma.” William had heard about the doctor’s report. Grandma would not be around much longer.
“We told them we didn’t want no paved road. They said the county needed it so it wasn’t up to us. Your grandpa pitched a fit. Rode into town and cussed out some of them county folks. Next thing we knew, we had a road right beside our house.”
“I can’t believe they did that to you.”
“Well, they did. Looks like they paved the road again. Spent lots of money on it I’ll bet. All day long you almost never see a car. Then late at night the big trucks go rumbling by, waking us up. It was a lot to deal with after being out here in the quiet for so long.”
“That must’ve been tough.”
“Never a night’s sleep. Worst part was the well and the outhouse and the chicken coop and the barn was across the road now. Toting water across that road can get an old lady killed, specially when the weather turns icy. Had to bring the barn cats in the house after two of them got run over by those 18 wheelers whizzing by late at night.”
“I feel like I’ve been here before. Did dad and mom bring me here when I was little?”
“Yeah. You wus barely big enough to walk. Cute as a button.”
“I guess it used to be pretty nice around here.”
“It was a wonderful life for a lot of years. Me and your grandpa used to sit on the side porch over there and watch the sunset almost every night. He’d come in from the fields, get all washed up, eat a big supper I’d cooked for him, then go out there with me on the porch and talk about all the stuff he planned to do on our farm.”
She paused for a moment. “I loved him.”
Grandma had a catch in her voice. William could see her eyes welling up with tears. He put his arms around her, trying to not get caught up in her emotion. But he couldn’t help himself.
“I am so sorry.” He whispered.
“It’s too dark to go in or I’d show you the kitchen. You used to love to watch me cook on that old stove.”
“Bacon. I remember bacon.”
“They let you stay with me sometimes on the weekend. Had a little bed all fixed up for you. You loved bay bay. That’s what you called bacon. I used to take you with me to collect eggs. Remember that?”
“I think so. I think I remember hens sitting on eggs inside a pen of some sort.”
“The chicken coop. You always wanted to pet the hens. And chase after the bitties. You called them dibbies.”
“That was the baby chickens?”
“Yep. I had to watch you close. The hens would peck at you if you picked one up.”
“I remember sitting in the dirt by the barn with baby chickens all around me.”
“Don’t tell your mother … but you got away from me one morning while I was making the beds. Found you down by the barn, sitting in the dirt, watching the bitties run around and peck at the dirt.You’d grab at one and mama hen would come running. That settled you down.”
They both laughed.
“I’m about to freeze.”
“It is getting cold. You ready to go?”
“Let’s walk around to the side porch first.”
“You want to watch the sunset?”
“Yes.” Grandma’s wrinkled face shined in the glow. She looked sad. And tired.
William took her hand. They slowly walked up the road to the old house. He wished he could read Grandma’s mind. He wished he could understand what she was feeling, what was going on behind those sad eyes. He wished they could be transported back to that beautiful time.
“Oh no!”
“What’s wrong, Grandma? Are you okay?”
“It’s the porch. It has fallen in. It rotted and just fell in. We can’t …”
“I’m sorry, Grandma. We can stand here for a while and watch the sunset.”
“I can’t. I’m too tired. Help me back to the car.”
The walk to the car was excruciating. Grandma was leaning heavily on William’s arm by the time they made it there. He helped her into the car. They sat there for a moment in silence.
“Can you pull up beside the house, up there next to the porch?”
“Sure.”
William cranked up the car and drove up the road a little ways, then pulled off to the side, as close to the house as he could.
“Right here. Let’s sit right here until the sun goes down.”
William turned off the motor and looked over at grandma. Her face had gone soft, as though the setting sun relieved her of all her pain, as though she was lost in the ether of a blessed memory, from a time when she was young and in love.
A little while later the sun had set. The sky was dark. William wanted to speak, but dared not interrupt the silence. Grandma appeared to have gone to sleep. As quietly as he could, William started the motor … then drove his beloved Grandma back down the road to that place where everyone loved her.
As William pulled into the driveway of his parent’s home he looked over at his grandmother. Her eyes were closed. She was still asleep. Her face looked sweet, so at peace. She was smiling in her sleep.
He gently brought the car to a stop.
“Grandma, we’re home. Time to wake up. Grandma? …. Grandma?”