Journey to Psitharis

Chapter 41

Forty-one

It was a knock at the front door that woke me up that Saturday morning. I was the only one who chose not to ignore the knock, and hesitantly I cracked the door open. It was my grandmother.

"Grandma!" I threw myself out the front door and flung my arms around her neck.

"Hello there, sweetheart! Thought I'd pay you a little visit." I was never so happy to see her cheerful face.

"Oh, Grandma. I hope I didn't worry you yesterday. I'm fine, just got a little lonely for you and Grandpa." I felt guilty. For her to get here at 9:00 AM she had to leave her house around 7:00. That was an awful lot of traveling for her, especially since Aunt Charlotte had moved away.

"To tell you the truth, I was getting lonely for you too. And since formal invitations are pretty rare around here," she glanced down the hallway at Mom's bedroom door, "I figured I'd take the initiative and come see you."

Mom's bedroom door opened. There stood Mom, looking an absolute wreck, standing in her doorway completely outraged. "Mother, what in the hell are you doing here so early in the morning?"

Grandma's face fell. She was hoping that her daughter would be at least slightly happy to see her. I wouldn't let Mom jump on her like that. "I asked her to." I lied. "I wanted to go to the flea market, just like Grandpa and I used to do. Grandma agreed to come pick me up and take me. Wasn't that nice of her?"

Mom just rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Well, I'm going back to bed. When you two get back, maybe we'll go out to lunch or something. But next time, how about a head's up?" She turned and closed her door. Aurora never stirred; at least she never appeared as I gathered my purse and put on my clothes. I counted the money I had squirreled away for careless spending; ten bucks. That wasn't much, but it was more than enough for a bag of fried doughnut holes to share at the flea market. And I wanted to keep my emergency escape money hidden, because the possible need for it was stronger now than it ever was.

Grandma and I talked non-stop the entire way. She talked about her friends at church and the news about their children and grandchildren. And I listened to her intently, even though I didn't know any of the people she talked about. In return I told her how much I loved art and how things were going pretty well at school. I knew it wasn't the truth, but I wanted to keep her in the dark. No need to frighten her with tales of classmates hunting me down with a gun.

We walked through the aisles, eyeing all the wares being offered. Most of it was cheap crap from who-knows-where, but some of the items were worthy of the occasional note. Grandma actually found her favorite perfume at one of the perfume stands for a lot less than they offered it in stores. I cringed to think of where they got the perfume or if it was indeed the real thing, but she was happy with her purchase and I was happy to keep my mouth shut. We tried on sunglasses at one of the stands, and purchased a few vegetables from a produce vendor, who spoke exclusive Spanish but was very friendly. We paused at one stand with cute glass knick-knacks, but the hyperactive seller there wouldn't stop screaming to potential customers "You break it, you bought it!"

Quickly moving on, we found a table where an elderly gentleman was selling, strangely enough, cheaply made weapons. They were the type that looked like the weapons used on TV or in the movies, except the sword handles were hard plastic and the tangs were hot glued to secure them in place. There was also a great deal of colorful duct tape providing the decorative touches to these less-than-precision instruments. I browsed the stand briefly as Grandma shopped at a table that sold cheap scarves for gifts for her church friends, but my interest waned very quickly. None of these would work for what I needed. One was likely to fall apart before you were even able to brandish it.