Discovered

Chapter 8: Grandma's House Makeover

I was curious and fascinated at the cake, like a child. Grandma wore a blue dress and a purple apron. She gave me a reprimanding look then walked to the dining table, not far from the living room.

Carpets covered every inch of wood, the blue calico walls, and the grandfather clock made me think of the dining room as an antique store. The golden chandelier hung from the ceiling.

She set the cake in the middle of the table then disappeared. Just then, an old man came out of thin air, like a ghost. He had light skin like mine, brown eyes, and wore a grey suit. White hair peeked behind his ears.

His face eyed the cake, but not at my eyes. He took a seat then quietly ate the slice of cake that Grandma provided. "Who are you?" I wondered aloud. Ignoring me, the man finished his dessert then left the dirty plates on the table and rose up from his chair.

The man walked over to the grandfather clock and marveled at it, like a pirate seeing buried jewels. Without a word, the man reached into his pocket and pulled out a silver key in a long chain.

Curious, I got out of my chair then quietly watched the scene. The man pushed away the ticking clock and found a square hole in the below the pile of dust.

My eyes widened as he pulled a huge rusty metal box out of the hole and open the lock with the key. As soon as he lifted the lid, he took out a couple of stacks of papers and old photos of Mom when she was a little kid.

But just then, something caught my eye: a red pamphlet that talks about finding closure from sober. Is this Grandpa? I wondered. That explains everything: he knows the rusty box behind the grandfather clock, grandmother never shouted or belittled him to get out of the house.

And besides, Grandpa has Mom's old pictures in the box. The only question is, why was he hiding it? And what was so important about those papers?

Instantly, Grandpa disappeared, leaving me with the open box full of private contents. I took the papers out of the box and examined the pages. But as soon as I flipped them, they were already blank.

Weird, I thought. Why would Grandpa keep blank papers in the box? I felt my eyes waking up and found myself in my passenger seat. Uncle Seth was still sleeping soundly in his chair while Mom stared at the window with black circles around her eyes.

I don't think she has gotten any sleep. Dad stretched his arms then saw Mom looking solemn. "Hey Cole," Dad said. "Are you okay?" But Mom didn't seem to hear him, it was like she was being trapped in her own world.

"Honey," Dad whispered, shaking her arm firmly. Luckily, it grabbed Mom's attention as she looked at him. "Hi Sherlock," she greeted. "Are you okay?" Dad repeated. Mom held his hand tightly then kissed it. "I'm fine," she whispers. "Good morning."

I wiped away my tired eyes then blinked at the window. Underneath the plane were tall skyscrapers, buildings, and tiny black ants invading the roads.

"We're here," I heard Dad say, waking Uncle Seth up from his sleep. "Wake up, Seth." Uncle woke up from the blinding light burning his eyes and let out a long moan. Grumbling, he went back to sleep.

Annoyed, Dad took an untouched bag of salty peanuts from between uncle and mom's chair then wack him in the face with it. But nonetheless, Uncle Seth snored peacefully.

Sighing, I reached into my knapsack and handed him my pepper spray. Dad took it politely then sprayed him in the eyes. Within a minute, uncle woke up from his nap then screamed in pain.

Dad quickly handed the pepper spray back to me, which I stuffed it in my pocket. Uncle glared hard at Dad as he wiped the painful liquid from his eyes with a napkin. "Why in the world would you do that?"

"I tried to wake you up," Dad shrugged. Uncle stared at his older brother with pure hate. "I had a beautiful dream that I was proposing to Angelina Jolie," he hissed. "But instead of saying yes, she sprayed me directly in the eyes with pepper spray."

"Maybe she preferred Brad Pitt over you," Mom suggested. Uncle Seth rolled his eyes then crossed his arms. We are now landing in Harlem, New York." the announcer claimed. Everyone let out a sigh of relief as the plane landed in a field of concrete.

When we got our luggage and got out of our passenger seats, Mom clung onto Dad's shoulder while Uncle Seth and I dragged our suitcases out of the plane then marched down the stairs. We headed straight down until a red Volvo approached us. Instantly, the car slowed down when it saw us and let out a cheery beep.

Sitting in the front seat is Grandma, wearing a black dress and heels. Her white blond hair was tied into a small bun, her eyes shone blue, and wrinkles appeared on her skin. "Hi everyone!" Grandma greeted with a wave.

"Hey Mom," Dad greeted. We stuffed our suitcases in the back of the trunk then climbed inside the car. Black leather seats comforted our weary butts. The Volvo had a nice new car smell.

Mom sat in the front while Uncle Seth, Dad, and I were squished in the back. Nodding to herself, Grandma turned on the ignition then started the car. As we headed to the city, Grandma asked us how we are doing.

"We're doing fine," Mom answered. "Hello Cleo," Grandma beamed through the rear view mirror. "My, you look like your mother." Mom and I blushed then stared at the window.

Since we left the airplane, Harlem was starting to show its true colors: I could see glimpses of buildings victimized with graffiti, tall majestic buildings, and markets selling fruits and vegetables.

To me, Harlem was a bit like Louisiana. First of all, there were people with different customs and cultures. To be honest, people like them have a way of making their dreams and their way of life into becoming an amazing dream.

And second, Harlem has its history, like many other states and countries. It has the Apollo theatre, independent African American leaders, and it was mentioned in catchy songs, like Uptown Funk.

Harlem has its pros and sometimes its cons, but no state or country is perfect, that's why we all have dreams. The scenery came to a dramatic end as Grandma parked the car into her driveway.

The house looked different as I remembered it: first of all the outside walls were covered in red, the beautiful rose garden instantly died in the heat, and the best part, the white gates were covered in mold and a green substance.

It was so unbelievable that even Uncle Seth cringed at it. "Wow," he said. "That house looks-" Mom and Dad flashed a shut-your-mouth glare then he instantly obeyed. Grandma inhaled the stench of odor fumes then hopped out of the car.