Where Grandma Lived
by Xavier F. Aguilar
(An excerpt)
. . . Grandma was sitting on a bench that grandpa had made. The high hedge shaded her from the intense sun. I hooked the gate and walked toward where she sat. Grandpa was on the other side of the walk and he was fixing a scarecrow to protect his tomato plants. He made a garden every year and always planted more than enough to share with others.
“Where’s Pendle,” asked grandma.
“He went off with his friend,” I shrugged.
“What’s your mother doing?”
Again I shrugged. That’s how I was back then; I didn’t say too much and I listened a lot. I could remember what someone would say months after they had spoken it and forgot.
She looked at my grandfather and said, “Grandpa’s making a fake man to scare the birds away from his plants.”
It was my turn to ask a question. “Does it work?”
“Sometimes it does and sometimes it doesn’t.” She smiled at me.
“Some birds are very hungry while others aren’t and then some birds have courage and some are afraid of their own shadow.”
My grandma knew everything. “How about rabbits?”
She brushed back a wisp of my hair with her hand and said very soberly, “Rabbits like carrots.
© 2008, Xavier
F. Aguilar
