It felt like textured paper … as I reached for it in the bottom drawer of the study table, while scavenging in the old room … and to my surprise it was an old ticket. The ticket was dull brown and torn on the perforated side indicating that it had been used. “Ladies and Gentlemen, Boys and Girls! Come see Go-Purolini’s Magical Puppet show…featuring the biggest puppets known to man”, was imprinted in red ink as I held it up against the window light. And then just like someone had pressed the rewind button, the ticket triggered a series of images of one particular time in my childhood. I sat down in what was my grandpa’s favorite chair right next to some old boxes to recall the autumn of that year when we were just kids.
It was the year when I had just turned 13 in a small town, which even though lacked the glam and glitz of big cities, yet was full of love that made communities feel more like family rather than mere neighbors. I remember my kid sister Jeanette giggling as her tiny golden pigtails danced away…symbolizing her own ecstatic temperament jumping up and down … clapping gleefully as we kicked through a pile of golden leaves in our innocent play of sorts while walking home from school. There it was … within the shadows of new construction a structure dubbed the “Magic Building”. Ah! Yes the “Magic Building” was what the kids called it. A place better than any other, that kids would want to go to. Better than playgrounds and theme parks and the circus, and the Mall … oh well maybe not the Mall, because only I loved the Mall and my sister didn’t.
As we walked home we could still see the giant Pinocchio puppet sitting on the roof, with his gleaming red hat and holding on to the signage for support. It had been so many years since grandpa took centre stage and bowed for his audience at that place. My face was as glum and emotionless as possible as we walked across it. It had been 40 years of puppeteering for grandpa at this now old building. Renowned for its amazing theatre productions. Namely, grandpa’s Go-Purolini productions. Run by grandpa and consisting of grandpa himself.
I didn’t get his love of puppets, ‘Giant’ puppets. And why after so many years at the theatre would he still want for the mayor of our town not to tear this building down? I think the town needed a shopping mall after spending years going to boring thrift shops and departmental stores. The town was too old fashioned….because of that building, or so I thought and Grandpa kept saying....“the magic must never die down….” Even though it did. When the puppet shows ended many years ago.
On one Saturday morning as I saw grandpa perched on his knees with his back against the colorful wallpaper of our living room …… delighted at my sister’s excitement with his puppets and antics….did I still not get his love. “Shawna Joshua T. Purolini!!!!! Please won’t you do us the honors by acting out a puppet this afternoon?” My grandpa said. “Uh….no thanks…” I said totally engrossed in my cell phone.
“Shawnee…..act…a...puppet…for us…” My urging sister broke in.
I did not want to be apart of this. Finally unable to bear the commotion any longer I got up and walked out of the house, hearing the shrieks of excitement Jeanette made at the deep voice my grandpa imitated for her. It was autumn and as the yellowish red leaves fell to the ground, I crushed them in hopes that someday grandpa’s love for that building would get crushed too. My cousins in Canada bragged about the shopping malls they had in their area and the fun of shopping.
The town mayor was the laziest person ever, or so I thought, and until all the eligible people in our town voted for the destruction of the building, it would remain. I voted, my friends voted and then there was grandpa. Thus excluding his vote…the town was a goner. Hands in my pocket, frown overshadowing my face, I walked on and on…getting more frustrated than perhaps angry….till I bumped into someone and fell. I heard an unexpected “excuse me?” from a rather boyish voice. I looked up and gazed upon something which made my sour expression break into light. It was a calm chiseled faced … buttoned with the most apologetic deep blue eyes that I could have ever imagined. I tried to maintain my composure without giving out signals of a damsel in distress, as he helped me up. He raised an eyebrow at my uneasy and fidgety appearance and excused himself away. So that was that, and I was shattered …miserable ….. and even more frustrated than ever.
The day I was waiting for came surprisingly quickly; with the deadline of the building breakdown act effective in 24 hours. If grandpa still didn’t vote it wouldn’t matter because the breakdown would ensue anyway as the mayor had finally realized grandpa was not going to vote and the old structure was now dangerous. If not only quicker…..! I seated myself comfortably at the park bench near the building, with a front view of it. Strange feelings rushed towards my head and an irresistible temptation to check the building seemed to be pressing. After all it was going to be demolished very quickly now….much to my devilish satisfaction. I began to sip orange juice when a nudge from the person on the backseat caused it to spill onto me.
“Ewww………..excuse me!” I said. And a prompt “oops sorry” was the reply.
Hey! I recognized that voice. Sitting behind me was the same cute guy I bumped into the other day! He was reading a public notice clasped in his hand and as soon as I was about to say hi…he erupted into spasms of anger. Later, to my bewilderment I found that he was highly agitated because he did not want the magic building, I was so against, to be pulled down. And why? Due to its ‘antiquity’. Knowing that the deadline was near as highlighted by the public notice…he felt agony and powerless. And when he heard my opposite perspective he couldn’t stop bickering with me.
In the end we both decided to stop arguing and check out the building as a sort of farewell gesture …a last day walk through. Neither of us had ever been in the building and yet had such strong opinions about its existence. Actually no one had been in it since that last show. It was shuttered down with planks to prevent any possibility of an accident. As we stepped in, a warm draft swept our hair and a moist mist in the room tickled our faces. Baffled and flabbergasted we walked on. The building was blue from the inside……and as we walked something fragile blew against our feet. The floor was covered with bubbles that formed again the instant they got popped! Hundreds of tiny transparent circular soap matters blanketed the floor. I started running. The soapy bubbles made me slip, but as I held on to the wall for support, something caught my eye and caused me to scream in front of Andy; we had introduced ourselves finally. The walls were covered with dancing insects twenty times their normal size! Beetles, ladybirds, butterflies! But they weren’t real. They weren’t puppets. Were they shadows? I looked around to see if there were any projectors or if they were actually in the building, but they were indeed just shadows! Dancing, singing, having a good time. Then the most stupendous thing caught our attention. Sea creatures swimming in mid-air before our eyes. Giants!! So much that plankton was as big as two taxis combined. My heart beat fast and so did Andy’s as he grabbed me by the arm as if for affirmation of that which was real.
We found a power switch, that seemed harmless to operate with a label saying “Push for Fun”. I pushed it and it worked … we could now hear majestic sounds of whales echoing all around us. The squids and whales and sharks and puffer fish bellowed before us and swam through the air. We edged ourselves forward, convinced of their harmlessness when the earth shook beneath our feet. We were carried up in the air by a floating piece of land. Gigantic jellyfish sashayed all around us and their fresh bright colors cast a beam of
scintillating magic everywhere. Suddenly I remembered before the closing of the building, grandpa had one last puppet show left. One that was supposed to be the biggest in history. Most fresh, innovative and imaginative. That show never came into production. Ever since we walked in, the building welcomed us and kept us amused and entertained. This was the finale. Grandpas last show. We were the audience it craved for. Even though grandpa wasn’t there to perform, his presence was felt through his work. The final show was done. Everything was old again. When we walked out we didn’t say a single word to each other.
I went back home and saw grandpa, resting in his armchair. “Grandpa….the building is going to be torn down tomorrow…” I said cautiously, so as not to hurt his feelings. “Don’t worry. The time has come.” He said with a gentle, wistful smile. The ‘magic building’ was completely demolished and on the day after, when I came back from school ……I found that grandpa had passed away in his favorite chair. Tears began to trickle like a flood of emotions and I was inconsolable. I ran out of the house. I ran and ran and could not stop but for one place, the place where the “Magic Building” had stood. They had now put up a signpost commemorating grandpa and Go-Purolini productions with a promise of planting an oak tree to mark the space.
I was now all grown up and yet I still remember everything as if it were yesterday, and holding on to the old ticket pressed against my heart I know that the ‘Magic Building’ will live on forever. There would be no more scavenging today because there was nothing more valuable than the memories of my dear grandpa.
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About the author:
I am an aspiring writer from Pakistan and wrote this Short Story in loving memory of my Grandfather.
Connect with me Online:
Twitter: https://twitter.com/shaanzaeshahid
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