Mistaken

Commands (Chapter 8)

Chapter 8

Jason

The car ride to grandpa’s house was long and painful. Mason, Teresa, my mother, and I went in one vehicle and my father and Tyler went in another. I had expected it to be fun with Teresa in the car, but the terrible reality was nowhere close to my expectations. There was an awkward silence that seemed to hang between us, and my mother hadn’t said a word since we entered the car. What really made me suspicious was that Teresa hadn’t said anything either. It was odd enough for my mother to be silent, but for Teresa to be silent was a miracle. She usually talked up a storm. She would talk her sister’s ear off even if she knew my mother hated hearing her stories.

I watched as Teresa snuck a quick glance at her sister, and I wondered what was going on between them. Maybe they had some sort of fight. Whatever it was I wished they would just forget about it and try to get along. This weekend was supposed to be fun and I didn’t want them to ruin it.

The whole ride went that way, with only Mason and I occasionally talking. Without the talking to distract me there was nothing keeping me from thinking about the three things I’d been trying not to think about all day. First the dream came to mind and I couldn’t help but flinch as I imagined it. I could already feel the same crushing fear creeping its way into my chest as I thought about it. Then there was the strange girl at the basketball game. Thinking about what she had said sent shivers down my spine and made me nervous. Could the dream and the girl be related in some way? Could it just be a coincidence that I had the dream the night before someone warned me that I was in danger? Was I actually in danger? I shook my head and dismissed the idea. The dream was just a nightmare, and the girl was probably crazy, or she could have mistaken me for someone else.

The third subject that I had been trying to ignore all day was my grandmother.

I felt the sting of tears in my eyes. The subject of my grandmother was something I had been trying to avoid, but it was something I had to come to terms with.

My grandmother was a truly amazing person. She made every holiday and every family gathering. She kept everyone’s spirits up and she was the happiest person I had ever met. I missed her and I wished she would be at thanksgiving with us but she wasn’t. She had died only a few months earlier. Everyone still felt the pain of losing her, especially grandpa. I wandered how he was doing all by himself, and I wandered how Thanksgiving was going to be without her.

When we pulled into grandpa’s yard the first thing I noticed was the yard. Weeds and a number of other plants were tangled with each other. Most plants looked at least knee high, if not waist high.

My heart sank as I saw the weeds. Grandpa never let the yard go. He loved his garden. He always kept it perfect. Something was wrong.

As the car stopped I jumped out and ran into the grand old house. I frantically searched for my grandpa and I found him in the one place I knew he would be.

Grandpa sat in his chair staring at a TV that was no longer on. He looked terrible. He looked like he had lost twenty pounds and there were dark circles under his eyes.

“Hey grandpa!” I said cheerfully, but he didn’t respond.

“Hey Grandpa!” I repeated a little louder.

He looked at me in return. The tinniest smile crept its way onto his lips. “Hey bud!” he weakly relied.

I ran towards him and gave him a hug. The hug held all my sorrow and love for him. I should have tried to help him get through grandma’s death. I should have insisted that mother should’ve taken us to see him. He was the one that was probably dealing with grandma’s loss the worst.