Chapter 14: Saturday
I know I said I would visit Samantha's grandmother, Ida, but I had hoped to delay it a little bit longer. At any rate, I was on my way, and the lovely feeling of the Saturday sleeping-late was allowing me to move faster than I had for a while, because the sweet call of slumber had dragged me under. I could smile all I liked, and I didn't think about the aches I still felt. It was remarkably minor, and I had temporarily forgotten about my Ghostly status. I walked to Sam's house, and Tucker was waiting. I stayed outside as Sam walked out, a point she insisted on, though for what reason I hadn't figured out. Maybe they kept skeletons in the closets or something. I snorted, trying to visualize Sam's mom and dad stuffing skeletons in closets. The image was hilarious. They would have to wear rubber gloves because they would refuse to touch a dead person without gloves. I snorted as Sam trotted out the door. She was using her customary pale makeup, and using an umbrella.
Was she trying to imitate a bat?
I shook the thought out of my head, and gave her a teasing false hug. She punched me, hard. I winced.
"Ready?" Sam asked.
"Completely. Your grandmother have warning?"
"Nope. But she said we could come over any time. I'll race you." Sam challenged.
Tucker and I groaned simultaneously.
"You'd win. You win every time." Tucker pointed out. I agreed wholeheartedly.
"Where's your sporting spirit?"
"It left long ago. Got the brownies?"
"Check. Laced them with arsenic." Sam stated.
Tucker rolled his eyes, and I once again agreed. We finally started off, a conversation flowing between us as easily as a river flows from one place to the next.
"How much did you do for school so far, dude?" Tucker enquired.
"Why would I do schoolwork? I've got the whole weekend to complete assignments. You?"
"Nada."
Sam shook her head. "I've completed all of science, and some English. Got a few novels at the library, Frankenstein, Dracula, stuff like that. The report we're doing, mine's going to be about Frankenstein, and how he stands for the state of humankind. Yours?"
"The Invisible Man, by H.G. Wells. First writer of sci-fi, and really, really cool." Tucker's response was very interesting, but typical, for him.
"Haven't decided yet. A lot of those books are very, very boring."
"You just don't like reading fiction." Sam pointed out. I agreed with her assessment. How was reading fantasy going to help me?
We continued to discuss books for a few minutes, and finally arrived at Ida's house. I knocked on the door, and waited for a second or two before I opened it. Sam's gramma wasn't in the room. I suspected she was in the kitchen, probably fixing lunch, and made my way in there. We grouped together, and there she was, sure enough. She was humming a relatively cheerful tune, a pirate's song. We waited and watched as she set down her loaves of bread, and a cherry pie, before pulling cold turkey out of the refrigerator. She finally turned around and caught a glimpse of us standing in the door. She dropped the turkey with a start, and touched her hand to her chest.
"You nearly gave me a heart attack! Go sit down over there." She shooed us in the direction of chairs, nicely located around the table she had been setting supper on. We obediently sat down, planning on staying out of the little woman's way. She trotted around, and we offered to help. She refused our help, the same way she always did, with a comment that she wasn't so old she needed help cooking, and besides, it was Saturday, and shouldn't we be playing games?
Sam responded with a polite "It isn't any trouble, and you are getting a little bit older. You should let us help some."
Her grandmother glared at her for a second. "I'm not helpless, young lady, and I will know when I am and will ask for help."
That was the end of that conversation. Sam shrugged, and the rest of us waited as Ida pulled out several other items from her drawers and refrigerator, and handed us some napkins and plates. It was a marvel, not having to cook for myself, and I enjoyed every second. We lathered on our sandwiches whatever we wanted, and ate them nearly as quickly as we made them. It was amazing how hungry I was, and how good such a common food could taste. We finally finished, and Ida gave us permission to eat the pies she had made, warning us that they were very hot. I picked a slice anyway, and began the delicate tack of eating it while spilling as little as possible on her mahogany table. Why she chose such a pretty table for a task as mundane as eating I would never know, and didn't particularly care. She laughed as she watched us eat, and talked all the while about all sorts of things, from apples to zebras, and enjoyed making sly comments that took us by surprise, leaving us wondering how to respond to her questions. It was almost as if she could see straight through a person, and knew all they had ever thought, and all they were thinking now, and could almost predict the future.
We did our best to keep up with the questioning on every detail of our lives, and watched her with interest.
"Something happened Sunday?" Curiosity screamed for my notice, but I ignored it.
"Yes, Ma'am."
"What? Are you alright?" As always, her acute mind told her she was missing a piece of the puzzle.
"I'd rather not say, but yes, I am fine." Another cool thing was that she didn't mind if we didn't answer a question, as long as it wasn't too important. She moved on to another topic.
"Got much schoolwork to do before Monday?"
"Lots, Ma'am. The teachers are all plotting to kill us with loads of homework. Three papers to write before Monday, and weekend laziness from those two." Sam gestured to the both of us, that is, Tucker and I. The conversation was interesting. A while back Ida had told us we could call her Ida, or Grandmother, but Tucker and I thought it would be too odd, and decided to just go with Ida, or Ma'am, usually. The conversation continued until around three, as I finished washing the dishes, having been elected by Sam to do that task. I sighed as I finished the last one, and Ida told us we should go do our homework. We finally left, reluctantly, and not without a glance from Ida telling us she would figure out what happened on the Sunday of the accident.
I made it home in time for supper after a visit to the park, once again, to calm my emotions. I noticed a poster about divorce, but dismissed it as sheer annoyance, and determined to continue. I ate leftovers from several nights ago, and listened to the radio, and all about important agreements between nations and whatnot, mostly because Jazz thought I should "Be more educated in politics. It might help you sometime." Sometime was right. I hadn't heard a useful comment out of the radio all day. I trotted to the lab, where mom and dad had left all of the junk, and found my project, sat down and began to work hard. The piece barely looked like anything, but was slowly beginning to work itself into a design only I could see, gradually tailoring bits and pieces together. I almost had the idea finished, and I would repeat it on the other parts later. But for now, having finished all but one tenth or so of the most important thing I could ever invent, in my own opinion, and probably the last, as least until Danny was at the wheel, and technically that wouldn't be me, it would be him, and I was content in that.
I finally travelled up the stairs, and landed myself in bed, checking the time, and noticing it was 6:00 am. Thank goodness tomorrow wasn't Monday, I reflected as I fell fast asleep.
Like it? Hate it? Sorry about the last chapter, I didn't have any real inspiration. You should totally suggest something. It seriously helps. I've scavenged up some, but I need more because I need enough to last this entire story. Thanks for reading this, and remember to review. Also, I own nothing. Just so some of the guests know, even they can review. Really. So keep reviewing. I also recently finished a story called Blank Slate. It is also Danny Phantom fanfiction, and I would love it if you could read and review it.
-Miaulin
