Free The Year I Almost Drowned by Shannon McCrimmon Page A

“Are you having fun?”

    “Yeah.
    I
    have
    lots
    of
    stories
    to
    tell,”
    I
    replied.

    “I want to hear them when you get back.” He yawned again.

    “I’ll
    let
    you
    go
    back
    to
    sleep.”

    “Goodnight,
    Finn,”
    he
    said
    sweetly.

    “Night, Jesse.” I hung up. I entered the stinky, awful, cold room. The antiquated
    television played the local news, showing only black and white images. My
    grandfather sat on the bed, leaning his head back against the two small flat
    pillows as he listened to the reporter give the latest updates.

    “How’s
    Jesse?”

    “Sleepy. I woke him up.” I sat down on my bed and watched the images on the
    tiny
    thirteen
    inch
    television
    set.

    He turned the volume down on the TV and said, “You two remind me of your
    Nana
    and
    me
    when
    we
    were
    your
    age.”

    “How’s
    that?”

    “You’re two crazy fools in love.” He chuckled quietly to himself. “I bet you didn’t
    know that your Nana’s father hated me–loathed me–couldn’t stand the sight of
    me. Said I wasn’t worth the mud under his shoes and she could do better.” I
    turned to face him, surprised by his confession. He continued, “I was a bit of a
    hellion when I was younger, but she tamed me. We had to elope, you know.”

    My
    eyes
    widened
    in
    amazement.
    “You
    did?”

    “We didn’t have to. It just made things easier for us. It was the best option at the
    time.” He leaned back and stared up at the popcorn ceiling. He placed his arms
    behind him, resting his head on his hands. “Eloped the day after Christmas. Her
    father was madder than a box of frogs.” He guffawed. “It doesn’t mean you two
    should run off and elope, though.” He glanced over at me, gauging my reaction.

    “What,
    us?
    Grandpa.”

    He took a deep breath and exhaled. “Well, it wouldn’t surprise me. Young people
    do foolish things all the time especially in matters of the heart.”

    “You can be assured I won’t elope with Jesse. You can count on that,” I stated
    emphatically. We sat silently for a while. Voices from outside carried into our
    room.

    “You never know what you’re gonna do. Life will always throw surprises at you,”
    he said, getting his last two cents in. I didn’t respond. Eloping at the age of
    nineteen was not on my list of things to do, no matter how much I loved Jesse.

    Within a matter of minutes, he fell asleep. His mouth was wide open, his eyes
    were closed, and he was snoring loudly. I had a difficult time falling asleep–
    between my grandfather’s snoring, how cold the room was, and the paper thin
    walls that allowed every single sound to be heard. I could hear every sound the
    couple in the room next to ours made –more than I ever wanted to hear. I tried
    putting a pillow over my head to muffle out the high pitched noises and other
    incomprehensible moaning, but it didn’t help. They echoed into my head and
    wouldn’t go away, like a horsefly clinging to a cow on a hot summer’s day. I
    shivered under the thin bedspread and lay wide awake for most of the night.

    My grandfather slept through the night. He was well-rested and raring to go;
    whereas, I needed about five cups of strong, black coffee to help get me started
    and survive the rest of the long drive to Graceville. I was exhausted. I looked at
    my reflection in the bathroom mirror and couldn’t tell if it was the poor lighting, the
    rusted glass, or my lack of sleep that made me look as awful as I did. I think it
    was
    all
    three.

    I turned off the bathroom light and entered the room. My grandfather gave me a
    worried
    expression,
    his
    forehead
    wrinkled.
    “You
    look
    tired.”

    I
    yawned.
    “I
    am.”

    “How about I drive some?” he offered, and I didn’t argue.

    ***

    I woke up from an hour’s sleep. I squeezed the back of my neck, massaging it
    gently. It was sore from lying on the flat pillows the night before and from leaning
    against the stiff head rest in the convertible. We weren’t