The Becoming
Chapter 3

Grandma shuffled onto the painted porch. The screen door slammed shut behind her. The boy flinched at the sound but Grandma appeared as if she hadn’t heard a thing. “Which way was he going?”

“That way, the boy said, pointing up the street.

“What are you doing in there with the door open? You’ll let in all the bugs. Help a lady down the steps why don’t you. What are they teaching you in school now? ”

The boy took a careful step outside. He caught the door before it could slam shut again and closed both before meeting Grandma at her elbow to guide her down the few meager steps. “Which way did he go again-let go of me you’re going to rip off my dress, boy.”

“Down that way,” the boy said, pointing.

Grandma stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. She looked down both hot, narrow walkways, the pavement white and blinding and said, “I don’t see nobody. You said Jack-Mr. Aldren saw him?”

“Yeah.”

She studied Mr. Aldrens lawn, her eyes slitted, her jaw working. Above their heads, birds darted between oak trees, squirrels zig-zagged across finely trimmed yards and along thin branches like schizophrenic tightrope walkers. The sky was clear and harmless. It was a bright day. “Get me across the road, boy. I’m going to have a talk with Mr. Aldren and his piss poor manners.”

“Why?”

Grandma stopped her shuffle and looked back at the boy. “Why do you ask so many questions? The man is a crab scuttling under a rock. I want to show him what he should be scared of.”

“Do you want your cane?”

“No I don’t want that thing,” she said, flapping her great, loose arms.

“Are you sure?”

“Don‘t test me.“ She exhaled hard when she stepped off the curb. Her body looked misshapen in the broad daylight where she did not have a chair or a blanket or an apron to distract her appearance with. “Take my hand,“ she said, sounding tired.

The boy did as he was told and lead her across the road, inspecting both shimmering ends for oncoming cars and feeling sorry for any that dared to come their way.

“I swear they make this road longer every year. I see all those young men in their orange vests with their measuring sticks. Probably trying to make this into a freeway one of these days. That‘s what people want now, more roads to go to malls and less places to sit and relax. Is it wrong, oh pull me up boy, and don’t let go until we’re off the grass, Mr. Aldren fancies himself a gardener but certainly no landscaper.” She put pressure on the boy’s palm and stepped over the curb. “What was I going on about again?”

“Roads.”

“Don‘t be so vague,“ she said, breathless. She stopped and leaned against the Oak tree near the sidewalk and coughed. She put a fist to her mouth and that seemed to stifle the attack. “What‘s wrong with you, old lady,“ she mumbled, “can‘t cross the goddamn street anymore. About as useless as that damn bag boy at Krogers.”

“Are you okay, Grandma?”

“Yes, yes, fine, I need a moment to myself.”

“Okay.”

“I’m going to have to hide Jacks ass twice over now. It’s not right to wear an old lady out like this. Of course, he wouldn’t know anything about old ladies seeing as how he lives all alone in that little man cave of his. C’mon let’s go.”

Together, they ambled across Aldrens half finished lawn with Grandma taking short, measured steps that made a low ‘shh’ sound in the grass. When they reached the three cement steps that lead to the small uncovered porch, Grandma said, “I couldn’t go up those even if I was ten years younger.” She put more of her weight on the boy.

“Do you want me to knock on the door?”

“Aldren, you know who this is,” Grandma shouted, “You come out here right now, you candy ass.”

They watched the dark, curtained windows while Grandma’s words echoed down the street like a lost phantom.

“I know you’re in there, Jack. You think it’s okay to leave my grandson around strangers? I guess that explains why you like leaving old ladies to bake out in the hot sun. Come out here you son-of-a-bitch or I’ll make more of a scene than I already am.”

A shadow rolled across the thin curtains so smoothly it appeared that they were on wheels.

“Ah-ha, there you are. I saw that,” her voice wavered on the last words. “You coward. Now everyone knows what a coward you are.”

The shadow appeared again and remained in place this time.

“Show yourself-or are you too scared? I don’t know if your mother loved you too much or your father loved too little but whatever it was you don’t let my grandson around strangers, you hear me? We have to keep this community safe and when he’s outside, you’re just as responsible for his safety as I am. The next time I hear you do something like this to my grandson or any other kid on the block, I’ll give you something worse than public embarrassment.”

They stood in front of his porch, waiting for some sort of response or denial or plead, but none came. The figure remained in the window, stiff as a mannequin.

“Coward, baby!” she shouted. But the threats held little fierceness for their delivery was weak and jerky.

Finally, the figure dissolved into the recesses of Mr. Aldrens ranch. “What a queer man,” Grandma said when he was out of view. “Always has been. Let’s go home, boy, we’ve given him something to chew on and I don’t want to miss my shows.”

While on their way back, something caught the boy’s eye. It was across Mr. Aldren’s driveway. A black line, not much thicker than his arm, lay stiffly, tautly on the ground, running the directions of Mr. Aldren’s house and across the street, down the part of the sidewalk where he’d seen the stranger coming from. “Hey, Grandma, look at that.”

“Yes, I see. They never fix these damn potholes, only patch them and let them get worse. I’ve seen some as big a car.”

“No, look, what’s that rope for?”

They stopped. “What is that?”

“It looks like a rope,” the boy said. “Like the one that guy was carrying.“

“He was carrying a rope?”

“Um, yeah, at least I think so. Look, it goes behind Mr. Aldren’s house. What is it?”

She squeezed his arm, startling the boy. “Don’t you go near that, boy, you hear? We don’t know what that is. Don’t let go of me until I tell you. C’mon,” she hesitated, still looking at the rope, “let’s go watch our shows.”

“What do you think it’s for?”

“I don’t-I don’t know. Let’s get in before it rains or you’ll get sick.”

They made their way back to Grandma’s two story cape, walking underneath a cloudless sky.

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