He knew nothing was going to make his suspicions go away. Nothing short of actually ransacking the house and finding that everything was absolutely normal. But there were things about Gamma that had never really been normal in the first place. Like the fact that she never seemed to look any older. Sure, she was ancient. But she’d looked that way when he was five. In the past ten years, he couldn’t remember one more gray hair. Not one more wrinkle than she’d had when he was a toddler. Did people actually age slower once they got to be as old as she was? He didn’t know.
And why was it his own parents didn’t know how many “greats” came before grandma? Somebody on the family tree must remember. Nobody seemed at all curious about it. His parents, and their parents before them always referred to her simply as “Granny Faye.” Why didn’t anybody else seem to know how old she actually was? His whole family ought to be featured in Ripley’s as the least inquisitive people on the planet. Absolutely unable to wonder or speculate about anything—except maybe how far you could push the expiration date on a carton of milk in the refrigerator.
He sprang up from the couch. He’d reached a decision. His parents might not be curious, but he sure was. He headed for the kitchen. He really didn’t expect to find anything unusual there, but he had to take it in stages. He’d leave the upstairs for last because if she was hiding anything that was probably the place where he would find it. He almost didn’t want to. In fact, he wanted to be proven wrong. Little old ladies were supposed to be harmless. They were supposed to live for their grandchildren and not have any other thought in their heads but coddling and spoiling the younger generation. He paused in the kitchen doorway. For the first time, it struck him how selfish that idea was. Why should anybody be expected to live for somebody else’s convenience? When she was younger, when she was still Faye and not Granny Faye, what had she wanted for herself? He shrugged at the impossibility of guessing the answer. Maybe someday he’d ask her if she’d ever had any dreams of becoming a pirate captain. He grinned at the idea. She would love the craziness of it. She was that awesome.
He walked across the kitchen to the pantry. Gingerly opening the door, he started moving boxes and packages of cake mix aside, looking for something concealed at the back of the shelves. No luck. Everything was utterly normal though someday he was going to have to have a serious talk with her about refined carbs and what that did to a person’s insides.
He moved on to the kitchen cabinets lining the walls. Nothing concealed in the upper shelves, nothing in the lower ones either. One of the drawers was locked though. He flashed on the moment two days earlier when she’d confiscated his cell phone and locked it in that drawer. She’d also thrown two cell phones of her own in there at the same time. What did she need two cell phones for? Maybe the second phone was a hotline for something? He almost laughed out loud at that idea. Yeah right. She’d be the first one contacted in case of a missile strike. Maybe he had too much imagination after all.
He shrugged and moved on to the dining room. China, crystal, crocheted table cloths. It was the epitome of little old lady land. So was the living room. He anxiously glanced at the grandfather clock in the hall. He’d been searching for about half an hour already. He didn’t know how much longer she’d be gone or if he’d have the chance to get to the bottom of it all. He eyed the stairway with dread. There was no point in putting it off. He had to search the upstairs.
He trudged up the steps, turning aside at the first door on the right. It was a bedroom that Gamma had converted into a work space. There was a sewing machine, lots of fabric in heaps on the floor. There was also a roll top desk by the window. He thought it might contain important documents. He rummaged through every scrap of paper the desk contained, but there wasn’t anything unusual. Just electric bills, phone bills. Business cards from eye doctors and chiropractors. He nervously peeked out the window and down at the street. He saw a few commuters leaving for the train station, but that was all.
He exited the workroom and looked down the rest of the hall. His room was at the far end, but he decided he would skip it. If she had anything to hide, she wouldn’t have given him the one room in the house where she had concealed something. No, there was really only one logical place where she might hide something out of the ordinary. Her bedroom.
He sighed and moved toward the closed door across from where he stood. He turned the knob and furtively peered around the corner of the door. He laughed at his own hesitation. “Dude, get a grip!” he told himself. It wasn’t like the place was going to be booby-trapped. He stepped inside. Morning sunlight flooded through the window. In spite of her hurried departure, she had made the bed neatly. The chenille bedspread didn’t have
