What was that?
I thought I heard a step creak. It must just be nerves, though. And too much imagination.
My grandfather died two days ago. My Poppy. I'm a mess. I partly miss him, and partly am glad the old bastard is gone.
I have lots of good memories of him-fishing, building me a treehouse, smells of Old Spice and Lucky Strikes-
I have bad memories of him, too. He delighted in scaring us kids-especially at night. Whenever I stayed at their house, he'd come to the bottom of the stairs after I was in bed, and say, in a deep voice, "Wendy, I'm on the FIRST step-and I'm coming to GET you!" A pause, then, "Wendy, I'm on the SECOND step-" you get the idea. When he reached the door to my room, he'd usually jump in, saying ,"BOO!", or "GOTCHA!"-and cackle to hear me squeal. He never got tired of the game, but I hated it. .
I swear, I heard a step creak....God, my nerves are shot.
But in the daytime, he was a pretty good grandfather. I got sick of the Step Game, though. I'm fourteen now-too old for that crap. So I waited , just inside the door, and when he got to the top of the steps, I jumped out, and pushed him, hard as I could-it worked better than I thought.
He staggered backwards, with a shocked look, and down the stairs he tumbled, landing in a broken heap at the bottom. That was last week. He was taken to the hospital, but only lived for three days. His back and hips were shattered. I just told everybody he fell, and they believed me.
A creak, right outside my door--I shouldn't have pushed him....
The funeral is tomorrow. I'll be so glad when he's buried.
Is that a shadow, by my door?? I think I smell Old Spice.....
