Chapter 3 - Packing and A Spoon
1090 Words
Elsie's bedroom looked like a small natural disaster had developed a personal grudge against organization.
Clothes were everywhere.
A sweater hung from the back of a chair.
Two pairs of jeans were lying on the floor.
One sock had somehow made its way onto the windowsill.
Her suitcase sat open on the bed, half-packed and completely offended by the amount of things Elsie was trying to force inside it.
Elsie stood in the middle of the chaos with both hands on her hips.
“Okay.”
She nodded firmly.
“I can do this.”
She picked up a shirt.
Folded it.
Placed it inside the suitcase.
Then immediately pulled it back out.
“No.”
She threw it onto the bed.
“This one wrinkles.”
She picked up another.
“This one doesn't match anything.”
Another.
“Too warm.”
Another.
“Too boring.”
She tossed it aside.
The shirt landed directly on top of a pile of books.
Elsie stared at them.
“Oh.”
She hurried over.
Her university textbooks were scattered across the bed alongside notebooks, pens, hair clips, and what appeared to be a spoon.
She picked up the spoon.
She frowned.
“Why is this here?”
She thought for a moment.
“I don't remember bringing you upstairs.”
The spoon offered no explanation.
Elsie dropped it onto her desk.
Then she noticed something else.
Her suitcase was still almost empty.
“Oh, come on.”
She pushed down on the clothes with both hands.
“Cooperate.”
The suitcase refused.
Elsie leaned harder.
“I'm stronger than you.”
The suitcase remained stubbornly open.
“You don't know who you're dealing with.”
She sat on it.
The suitcase finally closed halfway.
Elsie smiled triumphantly.
“See?”
The zipper immediately sprang open.
Her smile disappeared.
“You've chosen violence.”
At that exact moment, the bedroom door opened.
Her grandmother stood in the doorway.
She stared.
Elsie stared back.
The room seemed to stare at both of them.
There was a long silence.
Her grandmother slowly looked at the clothes on the floor.
Then the books.
Then the open suitcase.
Then the spoon.
Her eyes stopped on the spoon.
She looked at Elsie.
“Why is there a spoon in your bedroom?”
Elsie glanced at it.
“I was wondering the same thing.”
Her grandmother closed her eyes.
She appeared to be silently asking the universe for patience.
“Elsie.”
“Yes?”
“Are you packing for Newhaven or opening a second-hand store?”
Elsie looked around.
“I am packing.”
“This is packing?”
“Yes.”
Her grandmother stepped inside.
She picked up a sweater from the floor.
“This was in the laundry basket yesterday.”
“I know.”
“Why is it on the floor?”
“I changed my mind.”
“About the sweater?”
“About life.”
Her grandmother stared at her.
Elsie smiled.
“I'm stressed.”
“I can see that.”
Her grandmother picked up another shirt.
“This is inside out.”
“I know.”
“Why?”
“It looked better that way.”
“It is a shirt, Elsie.”
“Exactly.”
Her grandmother sighed and walked toward the suitcase.
She opened it.
Then immediately stepped back.
“Oh, good heavens.”
“What?”
“You packed three notebooks, two novels, six pens, a calculator, your old university ID, and…”
She pulled something from the suitcase.
“…a measuring tape.”
Elsie blinked.
“I might need it.”
“For what?”
“I don't know yet.”
Her grandmother slowly put the measuring tape back.
“You are going to work, not investigate a crime scene.”
Elsie looked offended.
“You never know.”
Her grandmother shook her head.
Then her expression softened.
She looked around the room again.
This time, she wasn't seeing the mess.
She was seeing her granddaughter.
The little girl who had once slept with a stuffed rabbit tucked beneath her chin.
The child who had followed her everywhere.
The girl who had grown up in this house.
And now she was leaving.
Her grandmother quietly sat on the edge of the bed.
Elsie noticed the change immediately.
“Grandma?”
Her grandmother looked at her.
“Come here.”
Elsie walked over.
She sat beside her.
For a moment, neither spoke.
“You're really going to Newhaven,” her grandmother said quietly.
Elsie's smile faded slightly.
“Yes.”
“It's a long way.”
“I know.”
“You'll be living in a big city.”
“I know.”
“You'll be working with people you've never met.”
“I know.”
“And you have a terrible habit of forgetting to eat when you're concentrating.”
Elsie smiled.
“Grandma…”
“And you don't sleep properly when you're nervous.”
“I sleep.”
“You stare at the ceiling.”
“That counts.”
“No, it doesn't.”
Elsie laughed softly.
Her grandmother reached over and smoothed a strand of hair away from her face.
“I know you're capable, sweetheart.”
Her voice trembled slightly.
“I know you're clever. Probably much cleverer than I'll ever understand.”
Elsie smiled.
“But you're still my little girl.”
Elsie's eyes softened.
“I'll be okay.”
“I know.”
Her grandmother looked down at her hands.
“I'm just going to miss you.”
Elsie immediately wrapped her arms around her.
“I'll miss you too.”
Her grandmother hugged her tightly.
“And you will call me.”
“Every day.”
“Twice.”
“Twice?”
“Morning and evening.”
Elsie pulled back.
“Grandma, I'll be working.”
“Then call during lunch.”
“You're negotiating my entire schedule.”
“Yes.”
Elsie laughed.
“Fine.”
Her grandmother pointed at her.
“And you will eat properly.”
“Yes.”
“Sleep properly.”
“Yes.”
“Keep your room clean.”
Elsie hesitated.
Her grandmother narrowed her eyes.
“I'll try.”
“Elsie.”
“I'll absolutely try.”
Her grandmother sighed.
“I knew that was too much to ask.”
They both laughed.
For a while, they simply sat together.
Outside, Willowbrook remained peaceful.
Inside, Elsie was beginning to realize that leaving home wasn't quite as easy as she had imagined.
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