“The old lady is crazy! You smell gas?!” Kevin shakes his head.
His middle aged arthritic knee grinds into linoleum. The gas pipe flaps out of a hole in the wall. The hole is the best part of the wall. He hears a single tap. Metal against floor.
“Boy, I’m not crazy! I forgot more than you ever knew. I’m telling you I smell gas!! You’ll fix it. That’s what I paid for. A stove put in. The stove was bad and it didn’t leak gas. Get you’re head out of your ass and fix it.” Her age softens the sound of her voice but not the content.
An outwardly feeble body props up the cane. A silver Horsehead looks out behind curled fingers. Large chucks mark where knuckles used to bend. Deep set eyes, black as coal peer into the world. The look is half distant at first, but hawk like while it lingers.
Kevin mutters “Of all the old people, I get one that can hear!”
“Mr Kevin. Do you have that pint of grape Vodka in your truck? Oh wait, it’s in the glove compartment. My hearing is better than your ability to read people. My Granny Sally said we could hear the dead, if you closed your mouth long enough.” The old woman holds her ground.
“I sprayed soapy water on the pipe. They’re no bubbles. There’s no gas!” Kevin’s angry glare clears the corner of the stove. He grabs his Zippo lighter. “I’ll show ya!”
The lighter disappears behind the stove. A single flash erupts. Neither of these two hear the sound but a while neighborhood does.
A small boy jumps out of bed. The room is dark. He’s startled but doesn’t scream. To his left, she sits next to him. Granny puts her bony hand on Bobby.
“Bobby, I needed you to know how I became this way. You’re a good boy. I thought it might scar the dickens out of you. I’ll let you sleep now.” Granny’s voice softly laudes him back to sleep.
This is a twisted part off the Granny Series. A collection of short stories. But if you wish a trip to the beginning…..