Randall

October 1st, 12:30 pm

"Grandma!" I shouted. "I'm late!"

"For what?" Grandma Cromarty asked, looking at me. For someone who was eighty-one years old, she was a very lively person. Unlike most eighty year olds you met, she wore blue lipstick and green or blue hair dye, along with hair mousse and banana clips. I remember seeing her wear slogan t-shirts and cardigan sweaters, along with Peter Pan boots, gasoline jeans, scrunch socks, corduroy pants, and acid washed jeans. You could also say the same things about Grandpa Cromarty. He wore some of the same things Grandma Cromarty wore. They were awesome. I have great memories of them. Today she had her green hair tied back in a white mesh tie and was wearing storm trooper pajamas, even though she was more into Star Trek.

"I have a meeting with Marco," I said, throwing on a jean jacket and Adidas shoes. I straightened my jacket and tied my laces.

"BFFs?" Grandma Cromarty asked, smiling teasingly. Boy, did she love to tease me.

"Whatever," I said. "I'll be back for lunch."

I opened the door, got out, and shut the door as Grandma Cromarty shouted something. I don't remember what she said. The details fade over time. I think it was to tell me to get back home on time.

12:36

"Let's talk about something else," Marco said as I ran up to meet him and Jack on the bridge. Cass was late, as expected.

"What were you talking 'bout?" I asked, examining Jack. His hair was flipped to the right, and he was wearing an Ozzy shirt with track pants that looked a little too big for him. I think they were his mom's.

"Jack's parents might divorce," Marco said before Jack could speak. He glared at Marco, then looked at me. I think he felt ambivalent about me. I know for sure I felt that way about him.

I raised my eyebrows in surprise. "What makes you think that?" I asked, looking at Jack.

"They're fighting a lot," Jack said, sighing heavily. I never really knew what it was like to have parents; mine died when I was two. Horrible, horrible car accident. I've always wondered what it would be like to know them. I still do sometimes. "I hear them scream at each other every night. Last night," Jack paused and looked around. It was a moment before he spoke. "My mom said she hated my dad. It's still so hard to believe. When I woke up this morning, I thought it was all a dream. I tried to push it out of my head."

"Okay," Marco said slowly. He looked at me. I remember he was wearing a pair of yellow corduroy pants. "What about you, Rando?"

Yes. He called me Rando for short whenever he felt like it. I think he did it because he thought it made me sound bad, which is 80s slang for awesome, not criminal or horrible. At least I think.

"My grandparents are not normal," I said. I remember back then, I saw other people's grandparents and realized mine acted like they were young compared to them. It sort of happened slowly. When I fully realized it, I tried to avoid being around them as much as possible. I didn't want to hurt them, but I didn't want them to embarrass me. You better believe me when I say that even if your grandparents are...different than others, still be nice and appreciate the fact that you have them. I'm always going to regret the fact I never appreciated mine when they were alive. In fact, if I could relive my life, I would be spending more time with them.

"I think yours are looc," Cass said, jogging up. He was wearing blue jeans. I don't remember what else he was wearing. "My aunt and uncle are the most bossy people ever. Your grandparents are much better people." He looked at Marco and Jack. "What did I miss?"

"Not much," Marco said. "Jack thinks his parents are going to ke-arb-"

He shook his head. Cass liked to speak Backwardish back then. He would speak words backwards. I've lost track of how many time I alone tried to speak Backwardish. I never could.

The rest of our conversation passed quickly. I thought around half an hour had passed, but when I came home, I found out what time it actually was.

It was 2:30 in the afternoon. That meant I was late for lunch.

Grandpa Cromarty was sitting in the dining room when I came back, reading a newspaper with his feet up. His face may have been covered, but anyone could tell it was him through his red Mohawk. I don't remember what he said, but it was probably him laying down the law. When I was your age, being late at my house meant extra chores. Not fun. And if I was really late, which happened rarely, I'd get grounded. That's how I learned to be punctual.

My own grandma is a bit like Grandma Cromarty. She doesn't go so far to dress up in the clothes we teens like to wear, but she sure is pretty cool.