Grandma's Missing and She Had Secrets
1364 Words
After school, Megan and I walked to my house, hoping to get some more information out of my grandma. The house was empty, though. I called upstairs as we made our way to the kitchen. No answer.
“That’s strange,” I said, looking at Meg as I put on the kettle. “Mom never mentioned that Grandma was going anywhere today.”
“Maybe she went to the shop or something,” Megan said, pulling open the fridge to get the milk.
I shook my head. “She’d never walk that far.”
“Oh, well, we’ll just have to do homework ‘til she gets back.”
“I suppose.” I poured the tea into two cups, then added milk.
An hour later, there was still no sign of Grandma. It was after 5 pm and dusk was falling.
“Where could she be?” I was beginning to worry.
“Look, she’s obviously off visiting or something and, with all the vision stuff this morning, forgot to tell you.”
“Yeah, probably,” I said, but something didn’t sit right with me. “Maybe I’ll ring Mom and see what she says.” I grabbed my phone off the table and hit Mom’s number. It went straight to voicemail. “She must be driving,” I said, putting my phone back down.
Megan slammed her home ec book, sighing. “Finished.”
“That bad?”
“Yeah. I’m raging about the fact I took home ec this year. It’s nothing but notes and theory. I thought we’d be doing a lot more cooking. So far, all we’ve made is an apple tart.”
I laughed. Megan loved food, desserts in particular. You wouldn’t think it to look at her, though. She was tall, thin, and could eat anything without putting on a pound. Her skin was flawless, and although she complained about her glossy chestnut hair getting frizzy in the rain, it never looked a mess.
On the other hand, I didn’t do so well in the height department, being just over five foot. I’d always been the smallest in school. Even my boobs were small. Sometimes it bothered me, but more often than not, I was glad. I could wear whatever top I wanted and didn’t have to worry. Megan, who took after her mom, said big boobs were a curse. She hated them. Considering the attention, she got from boys, she was probably the only one.
“So, are we going to the disco on Friday?” Megan asked, pulling me away from my thoughts.
“I haven’t asked yet, but I’m sure it’s okay. You wanna stay here?”
“We can stay at mine, too.”
“Let’s decide during the week.”
We chatted until I heard the door open and close, Mom walking into the kitchen. Grandma still wasn’t home.
“Where’s your grandma?” she asked, walking over to the kettle. She flicked the switch and tossed her bag onto the counter.
“I don’t know. She wasn’t here when I got home. I presumed you forgot to tell me she was going out.”
Mom turned, a look of horror on her face. “She wasn’t going anywhere.” She rifled through her bag, pulling out her phone and tapping the screen.
“Sylvia, it’s Carol. Is Mom there with you by any chance?” I watched her shake her head. “No, she wasn’t here when Clara got home from school.” Mom paced as she listened. “If you could, that would be great… Thanks, Sylvia. Bye.” She put the phone down.
“Everything okay, Mom?”
“She’s not at Sylvie’s. They haven’t heard from her since last Friday. She’s going to ring around and call back.”
I saw her hands shaking. “Sit down. I’ll make you some tea. Maybe Grandma went to the shops.”
“You know she wouldn’t do that without telling me first, Clara.”
“The library then. Maybe she went to find out more about my vision.” I knew I was clutching at straws, but I didn’t want to think about anything happening to her.
Mom nodded. “I’m sure she’ll be back shortly. You know what she’s like if she gets chatting. She’ll have lost track of the time.”
I set the cup of tea in front of her. She took one sip, then pushed away from the table. “I’ll just take a drive around and see if I can find her. You girls stay here in case she comes back.”
Megan and I looked at each other, then nodded.
“Oh, and Clara?” Mom said, grabbing her bag and keys. “Not in your room with the music blaring. You won’t hear anything.”
“We won’t,” I said as she rushed through the hall and out the front door.
“I’ve never seen your mom so agitated,” Megan said.
“I know, but Grandma never goes anywhere without telling one of us first. It’s always been that way.”
“Well, what are we going to do while we wait?”
“We can put the TV on.”
The sitting room was as it always was — neat and tidy. Cushions, black with silver designs to match the curtains, sat on the sofa. The only cushion that didn’t match was the one on Grandma’s armchair. Hers was old and worn. A dark navy with orange suns and white moons. It was hideous, but she adored it. Her mom made it for her when she was a child, a gift for learning some spell. Grandma had told me the story so many times, but I always managed to zone out.
“Where’s the remote?” Megan asked, searching the coffee table and its two little drawers.
“Check under the cushions. Grandma’s usually the one who has it.” I turned on the tall lamp and closed the curtains.
“I can’t find it,” Megan groaned, looking behind all the cushions on the couch.
“It’s probably in Grandma’s chair,” I said, moving her cushion out of the way. Behind it was the remote…and a black, leather-bound book.
“What’s that?” Megan asked, looking over my shoulder.
“I don’t know. Never seen it before.” I picked it up. The book was heavy and looked old.
“Maybe it’s a spellbook. Wanna try one?”
I grinned as I opened the cover. We’d tried loads of spells over the years, but none of them ever worked. But I had a vision now. I might have other magic, too.
“Let’s look through it first,” I said, motioning to the couch.
It wasn’t a spellbook. It was a journal. Grandma’s journal. The inside of the cover read, Property of Esme Marie Tyler. The next page started with the date, then it was filled with Grandma’s handwriting.
“I think it’s a diary, Meg. Maybe we shouldn’t read it.”
“A page of two won’t hurt, Clara. Besides, there’s nothing good on TV.”
“Okay. Just a couple pages.”
We both huddled close as I read the passage aloud.
“‘5th September 1932…’”
“How old was she then?” Megan asked.
“I don’t know. Let me read it, will you?”
The first page didn’t contain much. A typical entry detailing her day — getting up, complaining about chores. The second page, however, caught my attention straight away. There was my vision in black and white. It was a little different, there was no mention of school or lockers, but everything else was the same.
“That’s the vision I had,” I gasped.
“Huh? How’s that possible?”
“I don’t know, but that is exactly what I saw.”
I heard her swallow. “This is all a little freaky, Clara. Maybe we should just watch TV.”
I nodded and placed the notebook back under Grandma’s cushion. She and Mom would be back any minute, and I didn’t want to get caught reading it.
- Writer
