Short Story: Here and Not

 

My family had owned a lot of things of things I remember as a child. I remember my granddad always being gone, and I remember my grandma always when anybody asked about where granddad was, she would say “he is gone to make sure we have more chickens then hens.” I still do not though what that means till this day. I just remember him being gone, and my mom would be gone with him sometimes, because my uncle never liked going. At lease that is what we were told when we were little. That is only half what I found out that my family has been hiding from us. The people who you are the closes too, can sometimes be the ones that hurt you the most, or they can do some worse than hurting you.

Five town, Alabama the town that the Millers built, or the town that they destroyed is what some people would say about. My grandfather Brody Miller was a charismatic man who had dreams of being lake his father, but better and more successful. That he was; he was just like his father the good and bad. My grandfather was the man I thought that I wanted to be when I grew up, nut then I learn who he was not who I though he was. He wasn’t the handsomest man, butt the way he carried himself people loved and feared him. He was married to my granny Mary Mae for over 50 years, and as it turns out that was not the only thing that was impressive about him.

My grandma Mimi as we called her is the sweetest lady that has graced this world in my humble opinion. I cannot think of a time in which she has not asked or wanted for anything except for use to be right with God. That was always one of the downfalls about her in my opinion is that she cared too much about what the Bible said, instead about what her heart or soul need. My grandfather had put her through some of the worst things that a person could go through, but you never seen her down and out about. She was strong, yet selfless to herself with all aspects of her life. That was up until a few months ago when she had to let it go.

I’m Andy, I recently started my junior year at the University of Sandy Alabama. USA as we like to call it.  Late last year I finally decided on a major Political Science and Criminal Justice. I have always had a thing about digging up the truth about something that I maybe should not be involved with. I always knew that my family was hiding something, but I never knew what it was until this summer break when I decided to dig and find out what it was. I’m not how can you say well liked person in my family, but out of all my cousins I can say that I am the only one that is doing something with his life. If you looked at my appearance you could not tell. My hair is never brush or comb for the fact that I don’t care. I am always in sweats to the point that is the only thing people think that I owns.

A few months back schools were about to eb done for the summer, and I was debating back and forth with myself weather I should go to summer school so that I can finish sooner, but then I got a call from my Mother. “Hey, are you going to school this summer,” I don’t know year, why you ask?” I asked her. “Well we think your granddad is going to pass soon. He is not doing so good.”

That was pretty much her way of telling me that I need to come home. My mother was not the kind of person to tell you what to do. She would only hint at and you are supposed to get and do it. If you don’t, she still wants to say but you can feel it all over in the way she speaks to you in the condensing tone. I never liked really going home that much it I was never for me there. I grew up in Five points a medium size town in Alabama, that was not too big, and not too small just right enough. The town always had the air of the hopeless, but god loving bliss. It was something that I was not too find of. It was something about that made feel like that it was a town that got you to something, not to stay in.

After receiving the phone call, I knew what I needed to do. I had to come home. As I drove the nearly 4-hour drive home, which consist of no major cities, but the land of  the old getting gutted down for economic gain, but not the prospect of the land.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s