~My Dearest Scout,
It saddens me that you are reading this note. Not because I am gone. I am an old lady and have had an amazing life. No, it saddens me because I will not be there to see you grow into the amazing woman I know you will be. It also saddens me because I know that in many ways, you are now alone. Your parents mean well. I hope you understand that. They do not know what I know.
A crash that sounded like a complete shelf of products fell, startling Scout and momentarily tearing her eyes from the letter. She could only imagine the mess left behind. Considering the number of curses, it was probably huge. On most days, she would have investigated more, but her mind quickly refocused on her grandmother’s words.
“They do not know what I know.”
What the heck does she mean by that?
I am sure you are wondering how I know what you see, feel, and understand are true. It is more than just me believing in you. It is more than a grandmother’s love. It is because I am like you.
“What the fuck?” Scout was not one to talk to herself, much less talk out loud, and she blushed as she saw half the shop turning to face her. Okay, maybe she did occasionally talk to herself, but usually it was just a mumble within a mumble. It was never in such an overt, everyone-pay-attention-to-me way. She quickly folded up the letter and put it back in her bag. It was more than she could handle right now. She was wrong to think that this was the time and place to read something so important. This was most definitely not the place. Not with her grandmother either spewing this kind of craziness or sharing something Scout was sure should be kept secret, at least from the coffee lovers gathered here. Leaving her table a mess, she made a beeline for the door.
She almost made it out when a little boy in the corner of the room caught her eye. He was eating a muffin and it was not an ordinary one, either. It was huge, far bigger than any one person should attempt to eat in one sitting. She might go so far as to say it was family size. It would have been a cute, almost humorous, scene if it weren’t for the fact that the child was glowing. Not that anyone else around would notice his glow. She appeared to be the only one lucky enough to possess that talent. Mumbling some choice words under her breath, she raced out of there like the place was on fire.
Why was this happening again? Why couldn’t she be normal? Why now, when her grandmother was no longer here to confide in, did these strange things start happening again? It had been years since she had seen anyone glow. Not that all people glowed. Of course not—that would make her as crazy as people would think she was if she shared her sightings with them. Those that did glow, however, had always looked like they had a bright light fighting to get out of them. But this boy was different. Unlike the sightings of her youth, this boy glowed various colors, not just light. To say it freaked her out would be an understatement.
It was her childhood all over again, but without the light at the end of the tunnel—Grandma Nora. Scout remembered thinking that all people saw the glowing. One of her first memories was having her mother acting very cross with her at the park. She had wanted to go play with a little boy who was in the sandbox. Her mother asked her which little boy, and she simply replied the glowing one, while pointing his way.
“Don’t be rude, dear,” her mother had said.
Thankfully, it was a family day at the park, and Grandma Nora was there to explain to Scout that her mother thought she was describing his Asian descent and not his glow.
Running to her car, she got in and took out the letter. It did not matter that it was not the right time or place. It did not matter if she was alone, but not alone-alone. Clearly, it could not wait. Her life was in a spiral back towards the crazy, just as it was supposed to begin. How could this be happening again? She was about to start her new life as a college student and her childhood crazy was coming back. She could only hope the letter would contain more than comfort. That it would also contain answers. Right now, she needed her grandma. If only she could talk to her again, feel her hugs, ask her advice, and share a cuppa. Unfortunately, the letter would have to be enough.
Glancing to right where she left off, she began to read again. At this point, there was no doubt in her mind she would read and reread this letter over and over, so she might as well move ahead.
It is something I probably should have told you much earlier. You have to understand that I didn’t tell you any of this because I wanted you to have a childhood. The tea was meant to help.
“The tea? Oh, Grandma, what have you done?” Scout spoke the questions aloud, even though she knew there was nobody there to answer. Her heart ached a wee bit more, even in the midst of her confusion, and momentary panic mixed with anger. The reference to tea had to be the cup of tea they’d shared each night before bed. Most kids her age seemed to avoid their relatives, but not her. Scout had been overjoyed when her grandmother moved in with them ten years ago. She loved being able to tell her about her day every night over tea. She looked down at her letter and noticed some smudges. How had she not realized that she was crying? Putting the letter on the seat beside her, she dug in her glove box for a napkin, which she used as a tissue to wipe away her tears. The more she cried, the harder they fell, until she gave up and let herself embrace her mourning. The letter lay beside her, momentarily forgotten.