Page 29 of Ginjuh

Chapter 6

When I got back to Grandpa’s house less than twenty minutes later, having delivered Austin to his house, Grandpa was still in his rocking chair on the porch. I looked up at him, sitting there, facing the fields, wondering what it was he was going to tell me. Did I want to know whatever it was that he was going to tell me? I knew that when I stepped out of my car and walked over to the porch, climbed the stairs, and sat down next to him, all of that would be decided. There would be no going back. Whether I liked what came out of his mouth or not wouldn’t matter anymore. Everything would be laid out and I would have to deal with whatever it was.

For a split second, I contemplated actually turning the car back on, turning my car around, and driving away. I didn’t want to go home, but I could go absolutely anywhere else. Anywhere a tank of gas and the fifty bucks in my wallet could get me. However, I knew that Grandpa must have heard my car pull down his driveway and park. The man was old, not deaf. If I left and avoided this talk, I didn’t know if I could ever face him man-to-man again. So, instead of being a coward and not facing the inevitable, I popped the door open and climbed out. I shut the door gently and made my way to the porch.

I kept my eyes on the ground in front of me as I walked from the driveway to the porch steps and ascended them slowly, like a man being led off to the gallows. My feet felt like lead as I climbed the stairs and shuffled across the porch to the chair beside Grandpa’s. I sat down in the chair in stages, slowly lowering myself, sliding back in the seat, then sitting forward, ready to hear whatever it was that Grandpa had to say to me. When I finally looked over at him, his eyes were closed. His mouth was hanging slack and was tilted back to lay against the back of his rocking chair. I stared at him for a few seconds, confused as to what was going on.

“Grandpa?” I said.

No response.

“Grandpa?”

His mouth stayed open and his head stayed back.

“Grandpa?!” I gasped.

His whole body shuddered as he gasped and jumped awake in his chair, nearly falling out as it rocked forward.

“Jesus Christ Shit!” He growled as he corrected himself so that he wouldn’t slide forward onto the porch. “God bless it, Zach!”

Then he erupted into a fit of embarrassed laughter as I reached up to put a hand against my chest. Grandpa laughed until he was coughing violently, then having to clear his throat and spit.

“You ‘bout brought me out of my skin, son.” He said once he mostly had control of himself. “I just nodded off.”

“I thought…well, I didn’t know, but I thought…”

“I’m old.” He snorted. “Not dead.”

I laughed nervously.

Grandpa joined me in laughing for a moment and then we both fell into a nervous silence, both of us looking out towards the fields. We both knew that this was not going to be an easy talk and neither of us was looking forward to it. However, the longer I sat there, the less I felt like I had before. I found that I wanted to know what Grandpa had to say. I wanted him to explain what it was my dad had said in a fit of anger. I desperately needed to know if what my dad said was a lie meant to upset me or an actual truth.

“Grandpa,” I said gently. “What did dad mean?”

“I know. I know.” He shook his head. “I just…well, I’m trying to figure out how to put all this, son.”

I waited.

“Zach,” He turned in his seat to look at me, the chair and his bones creaking, “son. Your dad wasn’t just being hurtful. He wasn’t tryin’ to be mean to you. Maybe he was trying to hurt me, but he wasn’t tryin’ to hurt you. All right?”

I nodded.

“You never really knew your grandma.” He sighed.

“No, sir.”

“Charlotte was a good woman.” He said with a firm nod of his head. “I want you to know that first and foremost. Okay?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I want you to know that she was a damn good wife, a damn good mother, and she damn well would have loved you. Well, she did love you for the first year of your life before the good Lord took her. You hear me?”

I nodded.

“She only did one bad thing in her whole life—but whether or not it was bad depends on how you look at it. I want you to know that she was a good woman, and what I’m about to tell you don’t change that. All right?”

Again, I responded nonverbally.