14-year-old Kalman Mikkals trudged through the icy stone walk-way to help his grandmother up into the carriage.
They had not been to town for a while, and since her illness had brought her down, she had missed it. Kalman secretly knew,
just as she did, that this would probably be one of her last journeys to town, and it was rather hard on both of them.
Grandmother had always been his confidant, and he had loved her as he had liked her more than anyone else. But
no one loved eachother in their family, and so the tie could be broken, as it would be after her departure from the living.
He took her hand gently, watched her feet, helped her up so that she wouldn't slip, and got into the carriage beside her.
She smiled gently at him, her faded green eyes sparkling for a moment before the fire went out of her, and she almost slumped
down in her seat. Almost, except for it would just not do to see a lady of noble birth slump, and so she knew manners as a
second-nature hindrance. The family had always taught great mannerisms in their younglings.
Kalman watched the old woman winking at passersby, throwing small coin for the poor corner-lurkers that seemed
never to smile, but as he watched, they did smile. Because they knew too, secretly deep down, that they would never get fair from this
woman again. And so they treasured it, kept it in their loose, raggedy robes to hold for a special occasion. She waved at the small children.
And she turned to Kalman, laying her hand gently upon his, startling him from his trance of mesmerized bewilderness, shocked
by this tiny sign of affection. He pulled her hand into both of his, entwined their fingers, somehow knowing how to comfort her, though
a bit awkwardly. She smiled at him and he saw the first tears forming on the corners of her wrinkled eyes, and he held her instinctively.
"I love you, Grandmother." he whispered gently, and stroked her back as she hugged him, letting her cry a little and then
compose herself. And then she was back to business.
The carriage stopped and Kalman led her down the step carefully. Her hands were as icy cold as the slushy street and he
rubbed it to keep it warm.
Grandmother smiled genuinely at him and let him lead her around to the pawn shop. Inside, Grandmother automatically
went to the arts-and-crafts section. She had said that craftiness was a very good thing to have when you were out on a tough job.
Kalman had no notion of what that meant, and wasn't very good at crafts, often losing his patience. But he could make a nice
quilt or overshirt if the mood struck him right.
Kalman's grandmother promptly picked up a nice, soft green-colored, more expensive material than most in the pile in this
shop, and held it up to herself. Kalman thought it looked exquisite on her, and indeed made her look even more youthful, and she
had aged quite gracefully as it were.
But she put it down just as promptly, her sparkling emerald eyes spying something new. Gently she picked up a deep blue
velvet material, supple and warm-looking, that matched exactly to Kalman's pure eyes. She held it up to his chest. "That would make
such a nice suit for you, dear!" she exclaimed, and patted his shoulder softly as she judged how much they would need.
Then her eyes darkened, unreadable, and she said, "But you must help me to make it, youngling,..." and left the rest of the
sentence unsaid. No need to waste words on something they both knew. He nodded.
"I will," he said solemnly and put his hand on his heart to show her that he meant it.
She smiled at him. "I love you." she said, and her eyes flashed as she bought the materials and they
proceeded to shop around the town for the last time, just the two of them.
They had not been to town for a while, and since her illness had brought her down, she had missed it. Kalman secretly knew,
just as she did, that this would probably be one of her last journeys to town, and it was rather hard on both of them.
Grandmother had always been his confidant, and he had loved her as he had liked her more than anyone else. But
no one loved eachother in their family, and so the tie could be broken, as it would be after her departure from the living.
He took her hand gently, watched her feet, helped her up so that she wouldn't slip, and got into the carriage beside her.
She smiled gently at him, her faded green eyes sparkling for a moment before the fire went out of her, and she almost slumped
down in her seat. Almost, except for it would just not do to see a lady of noble birth slump, and so she knew manners as a
second-nature hindrance. The family had always taught great mannerisms in their younglings.
Kalman watched the old woman winking at passersby, throwing small coin for the poor corner-lurkers that seemed
never to smile, but as he watched, they did smile. Because they knew too, secretly deep down, that they would never get fair from this
woman again. And so they treasured it, kept it in their loose, raggedy robes to hold for a special occasion. She waved at the small children.
And she turned to Kalman, laying her hand gently upon his, startling him from his trance of mesmerized bewilderness, shocked
by this tiny sign of affection. He pulled her hand into both of his, entwined their fingers, somehow knowing how to comfort her, though
a bit awkwardly. She smiled at him and he saw the first tears forming on the corners of her wrinkled eyes, and he held her instinctively.
"I love you, Grandmother." he whispered gently, and stroked her back as she hugged him, letting her cry a little and then
compose herself. And then she was back to business.
The carriage stopped and Kalman led her down the step carefully. Her hands were as icy cold as the slushy street and he
rubbed it to keep it warm.
Grandmother smiled genuinely at him and let him lead her around to the pawn shop. Inside, Grandmother automatically
went to the arts-and-crafts section. She had said that craftiness was a very good thing to have when you were out on a tough job.
Kalman had no notion of what that meant, and wasn't very good at crafts, often losing his patience. But he could make a nice
quilt or overshirt if the mood struck him right.
Kalman's grandmother promptly picked up a nice, soft green-colored, more expensive material than most in the pile in this
shop, and held it up to herself. Kalman thought it looked exquisite on her, and indeed made her look even more youthful, and she
had aged quite gracefully as it were.
But she put it down just as promptly, her sparkling emerald eyes spying something new. Gently she picked up a deep blue
velvet material, supple and warm-looking, that matched exactly to Kalman's pure eyes. She held it up to his chest. "That would make
such a nice suit for you, dear!" she exclaimed, and patted his shoulder softly as she judged how much they would need.
Then her eyes darkened, unreadable, and she said, "But you must help me to make it, youngling,..." and left the rest of the
sentence unsaid. No need to waste words on something they both knew. He nodded.
"I will," he said solemnly and put his hand on his heart to show her that he meant it.
She smiled at him. "I love you." she said, and her eyes flashed as she bought the materials and they
proceeded to shop around the town for the last time, just the two of them.