Return to Neverland

Chapter 10

Grandma died a week later.

It wasn't like we never talked after that, even though I made that promise to myself. We still had the small talk at the table. Besides that, Grandma acted like she didn't even notice me avoiding her. It was how it was supposed to be.

It was the worst mistake of my life.

I regretted ever yelling at her, too. I felt bad, this feeling of guilt never leaving me. It wrapped around my body and held on tight, not letting go. I couldn't even be excited about school coming up.

It was the first time in a long time that I saw Charlie cry. Every night instead of a story, Jamie and Charlie would get in my bed and sob. I didn't mind the fact that they soaked my pillow and blanket. I deserved it.

Dad cleaned out Grandma's room. Mom refused to even step foot in there. She was the hottest mess out of all of us. Mom took a vacation from work and would hold onto Charlie and Jamie. She wouldn't speak, she would just rub their arms and stare at the wall.

It didn't take long for Charlie to realize that Grandma's things were getting tossed. She would kick and scream every time Dad tossed a boxful of stuff into our trash can. The only way he could stop her was by promising her that she could keep three things.

Charlie and Jamie each got to pick three things. Charlie picked her jewelry box, a weird bracelet with huge beads, and the acorn necklace. Jamie took a belt, one of the jars full of different rocks, and one of the old objects.

I held onto my bag of sand.

Every night I would sit on my bed staring at the bag. It had a blue ribbon and I always tried to tie it exactly like how it was tied before. Every time I felt the sand inside, I felt closer to Grandma. Even though I only knew her for awhile, and most of the time she was in her room, something seemed to connect us. Something distant, but I knew it was there.

It took Dad a long time to get Grandma's room emptied out. After an hour of doing it, I offered him some assistance.

"Sure thing, honey," he replied. Dad handed me a box and grabbed a new one for himself.

I didn't know why I wanted to help. I just wanted to say goodbye to the last thing we had of her before suddenly it all was just a memory. Or we turned crazy like her.

I piled all of the old junk inside. I piled in a couple clay pots and then some bowls with string glued to them. Under the bowls, I saw in cursive the initials W.D.

Once I filled a box I would hand it to Dad and he would sort the glass into a separate bin while putting everything else in the trash. I just watched as it was all thrown away. Suddenly my need to help turned into wanting to leave. Watching her memories get tossed was heartbreaking.

The last thing I picked up was the card Charlie and Jamie made for Grandma. It was wrinkled, but it was still in decent shape. I opened that card once again. Come back soon! I closed it and tossed it into the box.

The next day Dad had paint cans and brushes waiting on the floor of the new office. It was a cream, which was a plain color but nice to put photos up on. Dad handed me a roller and I started painting over the light blue.

It took us all day to put on the final layer. We were paused from our business once in awhile by Charlie and Jamie because they wanted to help, too. It took up a good chunk of time, but my brother and sister finally let us be and painted outside on pieces of paper.

Dad said that we would do the flooring on the weekend.

Every night I would go over to Grandma's old room and just sit there. The bed was no longer there, but I sat on the floor with the bag of sand resting in my palms. I would stare at the ceiling and ask the same questions every night.

"Why? Why did she have to be crazy? Why couldn't we have a normal relationship? Why did I have to get mad? Why did everyone believe that she was going to Neverland?" As expected, I never got the answers I sought. I would just sit there in silence, remembering every detail that had happened in the past couple of months. Then when I got too tired I would crawl back to my room and sleep.

That night I sat on the floor with the sand in my hand like every night. I would ask the questions. This time, I asked a new question.

"Why did she have to die so soon?"

Since Grandma's death, I was the only one besides Dad to not cry. I knew that I had to be brave to convince Charlie and Jamie that everything would be alright. As the pressure built in my body, though, the one question sent the tears flowing down my cheeks. I covered my face with my hands, cross-legged on the floor. I cried, not even trying to hold in the ugly choking sounds that came after.

I cried for a solid ten minutes. When I finally wiped my tears away and calmed down, I felt a tug on my shoulder. Not physically, I just knew that there was something there.

I turned to the doorway. It was opened, the door swung open from my carelessness. I sighed and stood up.

And then I saw her.

There was Grandma, smiling from the doorway. I stopped in my tracks. I blinked a couple times. No matter what I did she was there. She didn't move or talk, she just stared straight ahead. It was like she didn't even see me. She looked younger, too. She didn't have as many wrinkles and she stood straighter. Her hair was thicker and longer. Her eyes sparkled with curiosity and wonder.

That's when everything fell into place. She did go to Neverland. Grandma had been right the whole time. She used her final breath to get there. To go back to Grandpa and to feel what it feels like to not grow any older.

I was startled at the sudden connection. Had she not been completely crazy?

I smiled at her and clutched onto the bag. I had finally done what Grandma wanted me to do. She wanted me to believe. She wanted me to trust her and to let her go willingly. I finally had it.

I had faith, trust, and pixie dust.