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Description
"Tell me what it was like!" I prompted. Then added, "If you can remember."
A husky laugh, cracked with age, sounded above my head.
"Of course I remember," the voice said. It was belittling and filled with patience. I had already pestered him for this story before. I loved it, the action and excitement!
"Please, Grandpa!" I pleaded, looking up at him with my cutest puppy-dog face.
"Oh, all right," he sighed. I squealed in apprehension. I looked up at him, and his eyes were all far away. He was lost in memories again.
"Grandpa," I grabbed the sleeve of his shirt and tugged at it a few times.
I could feel when he jumped a little, then he turned his face down to look at me, sitting on his lap. "Right," he shook his head, and I couldn't help poking him in the arm. This was taking so long! I wanted to hear all of the stories Grandpa could tell me, and we didn't have that much time.
"So," he continued, "When I was a kid, I lived in a very far away place; somewhere called England. I had a small house and a very big field. I lived with my mother and my sister. My father had gone to help with the war, and I was the man of the house-" he broke off to chuckle without humor "-and I had to take care of my family."
I rolled my eyes as he paused. This was the boring stuff!
He saw that and lifted a hand to ruffle my hair. I ducked down and tried to avoid it, but when my head came back up, my golden-blond hair was sticking up in irregular tufts. I didn't even bother to fix it. Who cares when you can get your favorite story told?
"It was one summer night," his voice suddenly became all mysterious and I leaned forward in anticipation: I wanted to catch it all!
"I had just finished eating dinner and my mother and I were playing cards at the dining table. My sister was off in her room playing with her doll, or something like that. Anyway, suddenly the sirens went off. We all knew exactly what they meant. Nazi air bombers nearby! We had only one radio in the house, and I remember what the broadcast said. It was always crackly and faint, but we knew what it said: 'the Nazi bombers have just hit English air space, and the air force is preparing to leave.' then came the announcement that everyone dreaded: 'all families, please evacuate your homes. This is for your own safety and well-being.' and by that," he stopped and peered down at me through his thickly rimmed glasses, seeing my confusion, "It meant hide in your bomb shelters until it is safe to come out. Now, back in those days, bomb shelters were a room about as big as that-" he gestured to the bathroom, "And they were made of a corrugated steel metal- like the roof of this house. And they were all underground. There was usually a bed or two, and a stocked cupboard. It was always very cold down there, and there were several rugs bunched up in the corner. And when we got the warning on the radio and heard the sirens, we knew we had to go there."
Grandpa's voice was starting to go quicker with all the excitement, and I was trying so hard not to bounce around. We were FINALLY at the good part!
"The field between the house and the bomb shelter was very big, and it took a while to cross it. I remember feeling the rumble through my feet as the planes took off. My mother tried to yell something to me, but I couldn't hear it over the sound of planes engines. When we reached the shelter, we all climbed into the hatch. I begged my mother to let me watch the planes, but she said no. I used to be able to watch them, so it surprised me when I wasn't. My family sheltered in there for days. At one point, I thought I heard and explosion, but mother said it was my imagination."
I stared at Grandpa, wide-eyed. "What happened next?" I asked eagerly. This was so exciting!
"We stayed in that bomb shelter for what seemed like ages," Grandpa replied, launching straight back into his story, "There was nothing to do down there, and I pestered my mother to let us go outside. Even my sister agreed with me, which was unusual. The cupboards soon ran out, and we were all starving. I kept arguing with mother, and FINALLY she let us open the hatch. As soon as we were out in the fresh air, I was so much better. Down in the shelter, it was stuffy and the air was stale. It felt so good to breathe in fresh air again. Then I saw something dreaded," Grandpa's voice lowered.
I gasped. I was so wrapped up in the story that Grandpa was telling me that I didn't realize what time it was. The digital clock flashed at me: 3:23 pm. I didn't even bother telling Grandpa the time, it would ruin the mood.
"Where I thought the house was had bits of wood and brick everywhere. I was only a young little tacker then, and I didn't understand what that meant. Maybe they had moved the house?
"'Where is the house, mother?' I had asked. She didn't reply. We walked up to the… nothing... And my mother's face got even more horrified. 'Where is the house, mother?' I repeated. She only took my hand and dragged me along with her. She trekked along to the other side of our property. Our neighbor was a nice young lady. Her husband had left her, and we went over her house often to keep her company. When she saw us at her door, she took us in and fed us. She let us stay for a while. One day she took me to the market. We shopped for vegetables and meat. Then suddenly, a gunshot sounded. I ducked down and screamed in fear. When I got back up, I realized that the woman was on the ground too. I tapped her shoulder. 'Are you alright?' There was no response. I tried again and again to wake her, but nothing happened. I began to panic, and I turned her over." His voice darkened and he closed his eyes. The wrinkles on his face seemed to deepen, and I looked at him in puzzlement. He had never told me this part of the story before.
"There was a hole through her clothes right where her heart had been.
"She had been hit by the bullet.
"I ran all the way home, scared and disturbed by what I had just witnessed. I told my mother and she said that she knew who had destroyed our house. The Nazis had blown it up with their air bombs. They had found a plane wreck there the day before."
I jumped up, interrupting Grandpa and shouted bravely, "If I was there, I would have gone up in the plane and got rid those Nazis!!!! I would have beaten them and saved you!!"
I leapt off of Grandpa's lap and ran around the room, my arms spread like an airplane's wings. I made rumbling noises, trying to imitate a plane engine.
Grandpa laughed. "I'm sure you would," he exclaimed.
Suddenly, a loud chiming sounded, and I squeaked in surprise.
Grandpa heaved himself up with a massive sigh. I hid behind the couch and tried to stay silent, my eyes wide.
"Oh. Hello, Harriet," Grandpa greeted the stranger.
Harriet? Harriet was the name of my mother! It couldn't be her! It was only 3:30!
"Hi, Dad," Harriet said to Grandpa. I heard her footsteps as she entered the house. "I hope Penny was well behaved."
"Oh, yes, she was fine. I was just telling her some of my stories."
Harriet laughed, "That would be right," she sighed.
"MUM!!" I exclaimed, jumping out of my hiding place.
"Penny!" My mother ran towards me and took me in her arms. I couldn't see anything beyond her thick red hair. "Come on, Penny, I have to buy some ingredients for dinner," she said, carrying me towards the door.
"Goodbye, Grandpa," I reached forward and hugged him. "Thanks for the story," I muttered.
"Bye, Penny, have a good week."
"I will."
I watched him standing in the doorway as my mum headed towards the car, me on her back. She strapped me into the car and I turned in the seat, twisting to wave goodbye to Grandpa.
I saw him stare at me as we drove away, his eyes filled with sadness.

Description
"Tell me what it was like!" I prompted. Then added, "If you can remember."
A husky laugh, cracked with age, sounded above my head.
"Of course I remember," the voice said. It was belittling and filled with patience. I had already pestered him for this story before. I loved it, the action and excitement!
"Please, Grandpa!" I pleaded, looking up at him with my cutest puppy-dog face.
"Oh, all right," he sighed. I squealed in apprehension. I looked up at him, and his eyes were all far away. He was lost in memories again.
"Grandpa," I grabbed the sleeve of his shirt and tugged at it a few times.
I could feel when he jumped a little, then he turned his face down to look at me, sitting on his lap. "Right," he shook his head, and I couldn't help poking him in the arm. This was taking so long! I wanted to hear all of the stories Grandpa could tell me, and we didn't have that much time.
"So," he continued, "When I was a kid, I lived in a very far away place; somewhere called England. I had a small house and a very big field. I lived with my mother and my sister. My father had gone to help with the war, and I was the man of the house-" he broke off to chuckle without humor "-and I had to take care of my family."
I rolled my eyes as he paused. This was the boring stuff!
He saw that and lifted a hand to ruffle my hair. I ducked down and tried to avoid it, but when my head came back up, my golden-blond hair was sticking up in irregular tufts. I didn't even bother to fix it. Who cares when you can get your favorite story told?
"It was one summer night," his voice suddenly became all mysterious and I leaned forward in anticipation: I wanted to catch it all!
"I had just finished eating dinner and my mother and I were playing cards at the dining table. My sister was off in her room playing with her doll, or something like that. Anyway, suddenly the sirens went off. We all knew exactly what they meant. Nazi air bombers nearby! We had only one radio in the house, and I remember what the broadcast said. It was always crackly and faint, but we knew what it said: 'the Nazi bombers have just hit English air space, and the air force is preparing to leave.' then came the announcement that everyone dreaded: 'all families, please evacuate your homes. This is for your own safety and well-being.' and by that," he stopped and peered down at me through his thickly rimmed glasses, seeing my confusion, "It meant hide in your bomb shelters until it is safe to come out. Now, back in those days, bomb shelters were a room about as big as that-" he gestured to the bathroom, "And they were made of a corrugated steel metal- like the roof of this house. And they were all underground. There was usually a bed or two, and a stocked cupboard. It was always very cold down there, and there were several rugs bunched up in the corner. And when we got the warning on the radio and heard the sirens, we knew we had to go there."
Grandpa's voice was starting to go quicker with all the excitement, and I was trying so hard not to bounce around. We were FINALLY at the good part!
"The field between the house and the bomb shelter was very big, and it took a while to cross it. I remember feeling the rumble through my feet as the planes took off. My mother tried to yell something to me, but I couldn't hear it over the sound of planes engines. When we reached the shelter, we all climbed into the hatch. I begged my mother to let me watch the planes, but she said no. I used to be able to watch them, so it surprised me when I wasn't. My family sheltered in there for days. At one point, I thought I heard and explosion, but mother said it was my imagination."
I stared at Grandpa, wide-eyed. "What happened next?" I asked eagerly. This was so exciting!
"We stayed in that bomb shelter for what seemed like ages," Grandpa replied, launching straight back into his story, "There was nothing to do down there, and I pestered my mother to let us go outside. Even my sister agreed with me, which was unusual. The cupboards soon ran out, and we were all starving. I kept arguing with mother, and FINALLY she let us open the hatch. As soon as we were out in the fresh air, I was so much better. Down in the shelter, it was stuffy and the air was stale. It felt so good to breathe in fresh air again. Then I saw something dreaded," Grandpa's voice lowered.
I gasped. I was so wrapped up in the story that Grandpa was telling me that I didn't realize what time it was. The digital clock flashed at me: 3:23 pm. I didn't even bother telling Grandpa the time, it would ruin the mood.
"Where I thought the house was had bits of wood and brick everywhere. I was only a young little tacker then, and I didn't understand what that meant. Maybe they had moved the house?
"'Where is the house, mother?' I had asked. She didn't reply. We walked up to the… nothing... And my mother's face got even more horrified. 'Where is the house, mother?' I repeated. She only took my hand and dragged me along with her. She trekked along to the other side of our property. Our neighbor was a nice young lady. Her husband had left her, and we went over her house often to keep her company. When she saw us at her door, she took us in and fed us. She let us stay for a while. One day she took me to the market. We shopped for vegetables and meat. Then suddenly, a gunshot sounded. I ducked down and screamed in fear. When I got back up, I realized that the woman was on the ground too. I tapped her shoulder. 'Are you alright?' There was no response. I tried again and again to wake her, but nothing happened. I began to panic, and I turned her over." His voice darkened and he closed his eyes. The wrinkles on his face seemed to deepen, and I looked at him in puzzlement. He had never told me this part of the story before.
"There was a hole through her clothes right where her heart had been.
"She had been hit by the bullet.
"I ran all the way home, scared and disturbed by what I had just witnessed. I told my mother and she said that she knew who had destroyed our house. The Nazis had blown it up with their air bombs. They had found a plane wreck there the day before."
I jumped up, interrupting Grandpa and shouted bravely, "If I was there, I would have gone up in the plane and got rid those Nazis!!!! I would have beaten them and saved you!!"
I leapt off of Grandpa's lap and ran around the room, my arms spread like an airplane's wings. I made rumbling noises, trying to imitate a plane engine.
Grandpa laughed. "I'm sure you would," he exclaimed.
Suddenly, a loud chiming sounded, and I squeaked in surprise.
Grandpa heaved himself up with a massive sigh. I hid behind the couch and tried to stay silent, my eyes wide.
"Oh. Hello, Harriet," Grandpa greeted the stranger.
Harriet? Harriet was the name of my mother! It couldn't be her! It was only 3:30!
"Hi, Dad," Harriet said to Grandpa. I heard her footsteps as she entered the house. "I hope Penny was well behaved."
"Oh, yes, she was fine. I was just telling her some of my stories."
Harriet laughed, "That would be right," she sighed.
"MUM!!" I exclaimed, jumping out of my hiding place.
"Penny!" My mother ran towards me and took me in her arms. I couldn't see anything beyond her thick red hair. "Come on, Penny, I have to buy some ingredients for dinner," she said, carrying me towards the door.
"Goodbye, Grandpa," I reached forward and hugged him. "Thanks for the story," I muttered.
"Bye, Penny, have a good week."
"I will."
I watched him standing in the doorway as my mum headed towards the car, me on her back. She strapped me into the car and I turned in the seat, twisting to wave goodbye to Grandpa.
I saw him stare at me as we drove away, his eyes filled with sadness.