Bloody Story 1987

Page 5

The long rocky road came to a stop in the driveway of a giant log cabin, Mom stopped the car as we looked around for the first time. There was a lot of wood, a pasture with horses and carving as well as sculptures here and there. Plants were present and healthy, some hanging from planters on the porch. I turned my head to look behind the car when Michael came around the car as we were hopping out, his bike roaring to a dusty stop.. A long winding road leads to the old lodge-like funky house. Looking forward, I walked behind our mom as she called out for her dad. We moved around some plants to see his body. He was prone lying on the floor of the porch, "He looks dead." I snorted when I saw his eye twitch, he was a clear hippy style person, a rugged older man wearing old jeans with dirt stains and wood chips, he wore Indian moccasins o his feet which was a bit weird looking with his jeans, all that was missing was a long braid down his back, but he did have a wacky bandana on his forehead. We stood around him, sort of, Michael and Sam stood on the stairs as I looked around the plant filled porch, "He's just a deep sleeper." With a simple glance I saw our mother crouched down next to him, placing her hand on his chest, "He's not breathing, Mom."

I looked down at him, his face was stoic, an but he had a small movement in his leg this time, probably uncomfortable having laid there for who knows how long. Mom starts to become concerned as she feels his head, but Sam says something earning a knock on the shoulder, "If he's dead can we move back to Phoenix?" I simply shake my head as mom gets ready to speak to him but before that could happen, the old man lying prone on the porch shot up, eyes open mischievously, "Playin' dead." Mom jumps in her skin lightly before lightly smacking the man's chest with the back of her hand before hugging him, "Playin' dead... and from what I heard, doin; a damn good job of it, too." I smiled and felt a little cringed at what just happened, "So, are we allowed inside?"

"Straight down to business, you must be my granddaughter," I smiled tilting my head, "Nice to officially meet you pop's, now I can remember you forever." He just looked at me after standing, we had a silent stoic facial standoff, before he laughed smiling, making me copy his actions, "Mom? What's going on?" I heard Sam whisper to the woman as she whispered back, "I don't know Sam," I heard Michael next when pops hugged me and leaned back to look at me as I did the same, "It's like some kind of alternate reality, they're like the same person."

My brothers shivered in their tighty whities at how similar I acted to the old man, then again this would be the first time meeting him that we would remember. Michael and Sam exchange weird looks as mom comes forward and hugs her father as I step back. "You know dad you and my gorgeous daughter," she paused gesturing to me, "both have a love for, fine-art." Her last sentence sounded a bit off like she didn't like my art or his.

"Mother says I have a knack for the morbid side of art." He looked between us as his head tilted a light bobbing, "Well, she'll fit right in then won't she Lucy?" He let out a deep chuckle and I smiled laughing with him, knowingly bothering my brothers as our mom shook her head like she hoped we would get along but also hoped we wouldn't.