After Papa left, Mama retrieved me for lunch. Grandpa was making sandwiches with turkey and cheese. I sat near him and listened to his stories of his farm and how he raised and grew all the ingredients for these sandwiches. Every time I touched something on the table, I'd always giggle, because Grandpa had a story for it.
Mama watched us engaging, her hand caressing her swollen belly. From the table she lifted a glass of water and drank from it. Her blonde curls were resting peacefully on her chest.
When lunch was over, Grandpa offered to take me out to see the horses, and my child heart was drumming from excitement. He lifted me up onto his shoulders and we left the house.
He set me down in a cart and started the engine. As soon as the cart was on he raced across the field as if he was one of his horses, and I cried for joy as I clung to my seat. When he stopped, I looked up and was greeted with a chain link fence that seemed to stretch for miles.
Grandpa exited and opened up a large gate in front of us. When he came back, he slowly drove through it and shot out across the field once again. We drove in silence for a minute or so before we came upon the horses.
My eyes grew wide. It was as if someone had painted this field! Specks of brown and white everywhere! It took all the restraint I had in my body to keep myself from jumping out of the moving cart.
Grandpa slowly brought the cart to a stop and we were surrounded by horses. I carefully exited, as I was afraid they'd run away from me like the kitty did.
"Don't worry," Grandpa smiled. "They're good horses. Just don't be rough with them."
"Can I touch a horsy, Grandpa?" I begged, clapping my hands together. The old man laughed. Carefully, he lifted me up under my
armpits and held me face to face with a horse. It snorted and I squealed at the feeling of it's hot breath on my face.
"Go on, Ruth. Pet its muzzle." Grandpa encouraged me. I raised up a hand and gingerly laid it on the horses face. I had a staring contest with it like I did with the paintings. Grandpa owns a lot of things that stare.
"It's so soft," I remarked, and Grandpa chuckled. I ran my hands up into its mane and carefully combed my fingers through. I wanted to stay like this forever. This was so much nicer than the city. I loved the animals and I loved Grandpa.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw something. I turned my head and across the field I saw a pretty lady. She was wearing a long white dress and had hair that went down to her tailbone. She seemed see-through, but I assumed it was from the light.
"Grandpa, Grandpa, look! Look at the woman!" I cheered, violently thrusting my finger towards her. Grandpa looked at hee and chuckled, setting me down. The woman hadn't noticed us yet despite my screams.
"Who is she, Grandpa?" I asked.
"That's Grandma." he told me.
"Mama told me Grandma was dead."
Grandpa frowned and wrinkled up his nose. He studied the woman from a distance as she wandered around.
"She only says that because she doesn't believe." He told me.
"Believe? What do you mean?"
He smiled at me, but instead of speaking he began to walk towards the woman. I followed him curiously. We walked across the field until we reached her, and as soon as I got a closer look I stopped. She was actually see-through! She seemed to shimmer in the sun! I thought it was just my mind!
"Hello, dear," Grandpa smiled, and the woman stopped and stood still. Grandpa gently grabbed a curve in the air and continued to speak. "Have you been out here keeping the horses company?"
The woman still didn't move.
Grandpa chuckled and leaned in to peck the air. I had never been more confused. Why was Grandpa so precise?
As he pulled away, the woman began to roam again. He watched her lovingly before approaching me.
"What was that, Grandpa? Why were you kissing the air?" I asked. Grandpa laughed.
"You know how much I love you, Ruth?"
"I love you, too, Grandpa. But what was the woman?"
He placed his hand on my head before sitting down on the ground and pulling me into his lap. He gently took a large amount of my hair and divided it into three. It wasn't until I felt the soft tugging that I realized he was braiding my hair.
"Have you seen the paintings, Ruth?" he asked me, and I carefully nodded my head.
"Your parents are convinced those paintings are simply portraits of our family, to honor their memory," he continued. "But really, those paintings hold a power. They allow the dead to still love us, be with us, but only if you truly want them. There are ways to see them without wanting them, however. Animals can see spirits, just like Adjútor."
"Adjútor?" I tried the word on my tongue. "Whats that?"
"Not what," Grandpa told me. "But who. Adjútor is my cat, who you might've seen. Her name is Latin for "helper." She can see the spirits."
"The kitty!" I squealed, remembering the fluffy black cat from before. "I saw her, but she ran away from me."
Grandpa laughed and gently curled my loose strands of hair. "She's still a normal cat, strangers scare her. But you'll get to know her, and I'd like you to meet the rest of our family. Like Grandma."
I turned around and looked up at Grandma as I leaned against his chest.
"When can I meet Grandma?" I asked, and Grandpa stared off in the distance, towards the field of flowers the woman was in.
"I'll take you tonight, when your mother is asleep. But before that, we should pick some flowers. Grandma always loved flowers."
