An Acorns Flash Fiction Feature
By: Patrick Siniscalchi
Russell loosened the Windsor knot and slipped out of his dress shoes and socks. He dropped back onto his bed and rubbed his red, compressed feet, wishing he had listened to his mom and gone shoe shopping before the funeral. He longed to see his grandfather once more but was thankful for the closed casket—he couldn’t bear gazing at the damage from the head-on collision.
His own father’s funeral ten years earlier was now a ghost of a memory.
After slipping on his sandals, he raised his head and startled. “Geez, Mom, you scared the crap out of me.”
“I’m sorry, Russell. Are your feet okay?”
“Yeah. I thought those shoes still fit.”
“Well, it has been a few years, and you are growing.” Mom often joked that her teenage son had transformed into a ‘mouth with feet.’
“What’s that?” He pointed to the small wooden box in his mother’s hands.
“Apparently, something your grandfather wanted you to have. I found it with this Post-it note on it when I was in his closet picking out the suit for…” She held out the box so Russell could read it.
For Russell,
Love, Grandpa.
“What is it?”
She shrugged. “I figured you should be the one to open it,” she said, presenting it to him.
The craftsmanship of the ouroboros, a circular snake eating its own tail, carved in maple, contrasting harmoniously with the dark walnut shell, spoke of a time long past. He flipped the tarnished brass latch open, then hesitated.
“Well, go ahead… it won’t bite you,” she said.
He lifted the lid.
A watch lay encircling a round crushed velvet frame.
“Wow, it’s ancient, but kinda cool, too. It’s got like a steampunk look.”
“I remember that watch. I hadn’t seen Grandpa wear it in a long time, probably since your father passed.”
Russell raised the watch to his ear. “I think the battery is dead.”
“Honey, it doesn’t have batteries…you have to wind it. Let me show you.”
She rolled the tiny wheel back and forth for half a minute.
“You pull this out to set the time.” After matching the time to her smartwatch, she pushed the knob flush against the side. “Here you go.”
“Thanks, Mom.” Russell slid the band onto his wrist. “I like it.”
She smiled, then kissed him on the top of his head.
Early the following day, the absence of his grandfather pained Russell while looking at the watch. His ever-present pride and support—attending soccer games, school plays, the father/son picnic.
He blinked several times and rubbed his eyes.
The second hand moved counterclockwise.
He counted slowly to sixty to see if the minute hand followed suit.
When it also moved backward, the clunking sound was far louder and deeper than could come from the mechanical timekeeper on his wrist.
“Russell.”
The familiar baritone calling his name chilled him. Fear of seeing what the closed casket had kept hidden held his gaze downward on the second hand, ticking in reverse.
“Don’t be afraid.”
He stared at the rectangle of window light on the carpet for so long that he thought it moved. With as much courage as he could muster, Russell lifted his head.
Relief washed over him. The man who was so instrumental in his upbringing stood before him, wearing the comforting smile that always put him at ease.
“Grandpa…” Russell searched for another way to ask that didn’t make him sound like a kid but finally settled on the simplest approach. “Are you a ghost?”
“Not in the way that we experienced them in books and movies. There’ll be no haunting from me.” Grandpa chuckled.
Russell’s face eased into a grin, but then his brow knitted. “Why are you back?”
Grandpa pointed to Russell’s wrist. “That watch is very special. It has connected loved ones across the life/death membrane for generations, even before my time. But only for those who had the truest relationship while living.”
“Will Mom be able to see you?”
Grandpa shook his head. “I’m afraid not. Even if she were to wear that, her energy is not linked to mine like yours.”
Thoughts and questions swirled through Russell’s brain, tying his tongue.
“There is no need for me to divulge it all now—I will appear as long as you wear the watch and think of me.”
Still trying to calm his mind, Russell simply nodded.
During the rest of the day, Grandpa kept popping up since it was impossible for Russell not to think about him. Unfortunately, Russell’s mind wandered to his grandfather at some inopportune moments: dinner with his mom, sitting on the toilet, and while trying to fall asleep. That last one spooked him, causing him to yell and sending his mother rushing into his bedroom. Afterward, he removed the watch, breaking its connection to the other side.
The next day, after much deliberation, Russell realized what his follow-up question would be. “Grandpa, what is heaven like?”
Grandpa sighed. “That’s a tough one to explain, but I’ll try my best. Heaven and hell are not what we were taught—one up in the clouds, the other in the fiery bowels of the earth. If you’ve led a respectable life, your energy is used to propel the universe forward, to keep it running, so to speak. However, if you’ve been less than honorable, your energy opposes the workings of the universe. So, you see, it’s essential to be more virtuous and just than deceitful or unethical.”
The explanation caused Russell’s eyes to glaze over.
After a long moment, Grandpa asked, “Does that make sense?”
“I guess so. Though it’s kinda difficult to wrap my head around.”
“Absolutely. When my father first explained it to me, I couldn’t grasp it. The good news is that once you pass over, it all becomes crystal clear, like you’ve known it forever.”
“Wow,” said Russell when no other words would come to mind.
“I’m really nervous about the school play next week,” said Russell. “We’re supposed to be off-book by now, but I can’t remember all of my lines.”
Grandpa patted him on the shoulder. “You’ll do fine. However, if you want, I can run lines with you.”
“That’d be great.”
An hour later, there was a knock on the bedroom door.
“Come in.”
Mom entered and said, “I could hear you practicing your lines. Sounds like you’ve got them down pat.”
Russell smiled and glanced at his grandfather, who winked back.
During the curtain call on opening night, Russell alternated his smiles between his applauding mother and somewhere in the wings.
Over the next year, Grandpa helped Russell through various challenges: his first time playing goalie, his geometry final, his driving test for his permit, and his first real dating experience, as well as the aftermath of the eventual breakup. Russell later heard through friends that his ex was ‘weirded out’ when he frequently talked to no one.
One day, he asked, “Grandpa, why did you stop wearing the watch?”
“Well, while it was wonderful to see your father again and discuss his hopes and dreams for you, there comes a point where one has to go it alone. But you won’t be alone—you’ll have friends and people who love you for support. And, of course, I can always come if you need me.”
Russell remained silent for a few minutes. “I’m a little afraid and will miss you terribly, but maybe it’s time.”
Grandpa grinned and nodded.
They hugged. Grandpa said, “I love you.”
“I love you, too. Thank you for everything.”
“It was my pleasure. And remember, time is a precious gift. Never squander it.”
“I promise I won’t.”
With tears in his eyes, Russell removed the watch, and his grandfather faded away. He placed the timepiece back in the ornate wooden box. He crumpled Grandpa’s Post-it note, tossed it in the trash, and replaced it with his own.
For my son or daughter.
Love,
Dad
About the Author:
Patrick Siniscalchi is a retired electrical engineer living in Asheville, North Carolina with his wife and scruffy dog. His work has appeared in the Bright Flash Literary Review, The Sunlight Press, MoonLit Getaway, Suddenly and Without Warning, Great Smokies Review, and elsewhere.