“Grandpa!”
I lowered the open newspaper in my hands to look at the young voice calling my name. At seeing my grandchild, Molly, standing in front of me, I smiled. “What is it sweetheart?”
The seventeen-year old girl looked sheepishly at the floor, almost like she was embarrassed to have demanded my attention in a child-like way. “Remember that story you used to tell me about the little boy who made a difference in his town? Well Mike says that story isn’t true!”
“I never said that!” My fifteen year old grandson yelled from the kitchen. He came bursting in a moment later, his finger wagging at his older sister. “Don’t accuse me of saying things Molly!”
“Shut up idiot.” Molly shot back. “You’re the one who said you didn’t believe Grandpa’s story! It’s the truth and you’re just stupid for not believing it.”
“Molly…” I warned, trying to stop the bickering before it turned into a whole out argument.
“Grandpa!” Molly whined with a stomp of her foot. I couldn’t help but once again smile at my granddaughter. Molly was the determined type. She would continue to protest till Mike finally caved in and admitted that she was right. “Mike just doesn’t understand. It’s so unfair that he is just being a stupid boy and won’t listen.”
“Why don’t you two sit down and I will tell you a little story.” Right away, the two sit down on the carpeted floor. Mike appeared rather bored, but Molly looked at me with sparkling eyes. She had heard the child-friendly version I had told of my childhood to her. How a boy named Simon brought about acceptance of another belief in his small hometown. The story was a simply childhood tale with romance and friendship. But the emotions and hardships behind the story were real.
And that young boy, Simon, who was the hero of the tale? “Now the story, Molly and Mike, it is real. Simon, he is a real boy.” I said. “And I am that very same Simon.”
Molly let out a soft gasp and Mike smacked his sister in the arm. Molly just rolled her eyes, signaling me to go on with the story.
“Growing up in a small town, there wasn’t ever really much to do. Me and the guys would play stick ball in the street or hang out around town. I went to school, chatted up the ladies, annoyed my teachers, same things any other kid would do. But it was the year of 1953 that everything changed…”
YOU ARE READING
Under The Southern Sun
Historical FictionIt was the year of 1953 that everything changed for sixteen year old Simon Colt. In his small Georgia town, everything stayed in the same and nobody dared mess up the way things went. But when Simon's high school suddenly recieves a music teacher fo...