It was a pleasant evening in America, a man in his late 40's was quietly drinking a cup of tea while watching the current news on the television. When suddenly, footsteps were heard and the old man was pulled out of his show to see who was walking inside his house. Upon seeing who it was, a smile crept into his face, and welcomed his to guests.
"Grandpa! We miss you." A boy at the age of 12 ran to him giving him a big hug, and kissed him on the cheek, he laughed.
"And I missed you too." The old man replied. And looked at the boy's eyes. "So, how was my favourite grandson?" He questioned.
"Dad, he IS your only grandson." The other man in the room finally spoke.
"Ohh, yeah, I nearly forgot. Let me rephrase that." He laughed, looking from his son then back to the boy in his lap. "So, how's my only grandson?"
"I'm fine grandpa, and so is dad. Mom said that we should visit you, because she said that you are lonely, but I said that heroes never get lonely and you're a hero right?" the boy said, enthusiastically, waiting for an answer.
"Well yeah, heroes never get lonely, but they sure do enjoy visits from their family, especially from their grandsons." The man replied with a chuckle, he's quite happy that his son manages to pass the fondness to heroes that he got from his father to his own son.
"Dad, I'm going to a two day trip to London, and Maggie is busy with her boutique, can you watch over Alfie for two days, when Maggie comes back, she will pick him up." The young man spoke, looking to his father with straight eyes, but behind those eyes, the old man can see that his son is begging for him to do it, it was quite funny, but he tried not to laugh.
"Of course Peter, I can do that, haha. This little guy can help me around the house, and at the same time, I'll watch over him."
"Okay, I. Thank you dad. I should be going, or I'll be late for my flight. Be a good boy Alfie, or else…." He was cut off by his father, who walked in front of him and enveloped him in a tight hug. "Don't scare the young man, haha, and good luck." He said releasing his son, he hold him at arm's length, looking straight into the other's eye, "See you in two days."
Peter was stunned, but he remembered, this is his father, good old Alfred F. Jones, he smiled, looked into his father and replied "Yeah, see you too. Come here Alfie", he called his son who immediately run to him and hugged him tight.
"I'll miss you dad." The young boy choked his goodbye, signalling his incoming tears.
"I'll miss you too. Don't cry, because boys don't cry." He smiled down to his son, pat the others hair, and turned to the door.
"One more thing Peter." The old man called out, catching the attention of the man leaving. "Since you're going to London, can you please visit…" he stopped, not knowing if he has to continue or not.
"I know dad. I know. And don't worry, I will." Peter said then left.
The sound of the door closing echoed throughout the house, silence following suit.
"So, little buddy, you want some milk and cookies?" Alfred asked to break the silence, damn, he hate silence.
"Yeah, let's go grandpa." The boy said, pulling the other into the kitchen. He sat into one of the high chairs by the kitchen table, and waited for his grandfather to get the snacks.
The old man started to search the cupboard for the cookies and milk he always kept for his grandson. When he was younger he used to enjoy these kinds of snacks to. He remembered his childhood with his younger brother Matthew who loves his milk with syrup, they would always fight over the last cookie, and he would always win. He placed the snacks on the table and laughed at the memory, which caught the attention of the young boy.
"Why are you laughing grandpa?" the boy asked, nibbling on a cookie.
"Nothing, just past memories." He continued to smile, sipping his tea. He never liked tea, but someone, someone special made him think otherwise. It is still the same old bitter or even tasteless tea, but somehow, drinking it made him remember the past.
"With Dad?"
"Hmmmm, no."
"Hmmm…I know! With Grandpa Mattie!" the boy said. He knew he was right. His grandfather's brother is the quiet one, but he is kind, and cooks delicious pancakes when they went to Canada before. He met a man named Francis, and the two looked very close. Then he wondered about that person.
"Grandpa, where is Grandma? Alfie asked innocently.
"Wh-wha-who?" Alfred choked on his drink, he never expected that one question to pop into a conversation with his grandson.
"Grandma…. You know, Dad's mom." His dad never talked about her, so maybe his grandfather would tell him some.
Alfred continued to stare. Damn Peter, why did it have to be him to tell the little guy about that thing. Maybe if he open another topic, the other would forget, then he'll ask Peter to tell the boy the story. Yes, that will work.
"Grandpa, earth to grandpa…" Alfred snapped from his thoughts by someone calling him and waving a hand in front of his face. It was Alfie.
"Kiddo, do you want to hear a story?"
"Is it a story about Grandma?"
"Well, no."
"Then no. Grandpa, please, I want to hear a story about grandma." He pouted, but continued. "All I know is that before you left England when you were young, you saw a witch in the mirror, and that witch was grandma." The boy explained.
Alfred couldn't believe what he was hearing from his Grandson, and before he knew it, the happening on that day flashed into his mind. The feeling that he tried so hard to keep is slowly seeping back to his heart.
"Arthur. Please."
"I'm so sorry Alfred, but I can't."
"I love you. I'd do anything, just come with me."
"I'm sorry, just, just forget about me. You're a good man Alfred you'll find someone who deserves to be with you."
"But, you're the one, I knew it, please."
"I'm so sorry. Good bye."
"Grandpa, I'm sorry. Don't cry. I knew it, I should have not tried to know more." Alfie was now in front of him, hugging him. He didn't even notice the tears that have started to run down his cheeks. He knew it, he looked ridiculous. He smiled, wiped his cheeks and looked at his grandson.
"I'm fine, it's just that. No. I remembered something, someone, sometime ago." He assured. He should have known that this time will come. Maybe this is the right time for storytelling. "So, do you want to hear a story?" he asked once again.
"Yeah." The boy simply answered. He doesn't want to cause his Grandfather any more pain from trying to make him tell the story that his father call 'From Long Ago'.
"Aren't you going to ask if it is about your grandma?" the old man asked, amused that his grandson abandoned the topic so easily.
"Is it?" the other asked.
"Well, unfortunately no." he answered, he could see the disappointment on the other's face. "But, it is going to be about someone important in my life." He continued, eyes softening at the memories that came flooding back. He looked up with a smiled and asked "So, Do you want to hear it?"
"Grandpa, I already said yes." Alfie huffed, why does his grandfather have ask the same question twice? "Yes. I'll hear your story."
The old man's eyes gleamed with delight, he knew that his grandson would give in. but, first things first.
"I'm going to tell you the story about 'From Long ago." The little boy's eye widened and he continued. "I thought your father will be telling you about this story, but I guess I'll just have to do it."