Rosie

Ran this up last night as a follow-on to the Rosie question on Yahoo gender Studies... Not sure about its creator - Rosie asked the question and it triggered the bemused muse within me...

 

As I turned off the cold, soggy, near-frozen mud of the country road into the driveway that I knew well from my childhood �" I wondered yet again what it was that my grandfather wanted so much to say to me.  He was all alone now, and only connected by a telephone line to anyone, really �" including the ambulance drivers who knew the route well by now since his heart gave him so much periodic trouble these days.  Maybe stress from his early days of hardship and a bitter struggle to grow up in a family of four siblings �" all gone now leaving only my dear grandfather to his lonely nights.

 

I don’t think some part of him ever got over my grandmother dying so badly �" somehow that was the end after all that he’d been and done in his life after that terrible beginning �" of which he spoke so little and only in small parcels carefully doled out �" and only when the Gods of Guinness took him and shook him until he lowered his guards enough to let us see some tiny bit of the landscape inside him that we all so longed to see �" but which we all knew by now we never would or could.

 

Some of it was tied up in the Airborne plaque he had on the wall, the odd photographs of odd things like a crashed aircraft sitting in a muddy field with its tail in shreds,  and our often murky and even unfounded knowledge that somewhere in his deep dark self he had been and done things that none of us could ever dream.  We all knew he had been something in the SAS somewhere in the supposedly peaceful times �" but that he had a profound knowledge and a passport to match it of areas that somehow, somewhere, always seemed to be in some sort of turmoil.

 

Some of those included Afghanistan before it became Afghanistan, Fiji twice during the ‘coup’ times’, a rather odd knowledge of the Highlands in Papua and certain under-reported actions by the Indos, and his certain and proven involvement in a ‘re-education camp’ near Saigon three years after the War finished along with an amazing knowledge of the way the local politics still worked there even after the ‘Communist’ takeover.

 

That War?  Oh, yes �" that was the one, really, and he never said anything about it much �" just that it could get cold in the Central Highlands, and how he hated the heat and hated the tropics and the smell of paddy fields and loved the Highlands anywhere he could get them.

 

Yep �" that was my grandfather all right �" a walking mystery sometimes and sometimes given to wild rages and a killing stare about him especially on a wet and foggy night �" but underneath it all a surpassingly gentle man who loves his animals and local wildlife.

 

We really had not much in common just to look at �" I was a broker for a small investment firm �" they did all right and so did I �" I had a very lovely modern wife who worked as a lawyer and sort of toed the line a lot with the courts even when I thought they were outrageous, but I was pretty settled really, and very happy not to have been in my grandfather’s shoes. 

 

 

 

 

I think my grandfather secretly adored my wife, Rose, while denouncing her as a feminist follower, in fact I knew he did but he would never let on �" though I knew him well enough to know when that little guard was down.  He did like the ladies �" as my grandmother knew �" and that’s why he got her, I always said to her.  You need to be chasing class to get it!  Anyway he sometimes looked at Rose with such a look �" well �" I couldn’t have done better myself  - a look of the utmost longing and desolation that I felt sorry for him in a way, but never jealous.  It just wasn’t like that somehow….just…curious.

 

Out of all this, strangely, I seemed to have picked up his standards.  The old swine �" and I say that with the greatest affection - for all of his theoretically wild ways in the past, was really pretty much a Puritan �" and so was I underneath that modern man veneer.  I suppose I just got it from him without thinking �" like a genetic innoculation or some sort of antibody thing passed down without thought.  Oh, well…whatever… it just worked that way and I was happy enough with it.

 

Well �" I would soon find out what was so important that he needed to see me now and only on my own �" just the two of us and a few of his favourite drinks �" aah �" the Guinness and the Jamesons!  Now THAT I could come here for anytime �" secret meeting or not!  I knew we’d enjoy it and share it like a pair of old cronies �" which in some ways I think we always were somehow.   Life works like that.  Me and grand-dad �" what a pair!

 

I parked outside �" no problem with people stealing your car here �" and even left the keys under the seat in that old country honoured fashion, and the door was already opening as I walked up the front steps onto the verandah �" and there he was �" me but much older but somehow the same, just like we’d always been.  I gave him a hug �" a bit longer than most man-to-man hugs �" and I could tell he felt the same warmth between us �" before we pulled back still arms linked like the old friends we were.

 

“Jeez, boy!  You’re looking taller all the time!  I think I’m starting to shrink!”

 

I laughed �" “Nah!  Never!  You’ll always be that height �" I know it �" always have been �" always will be!  And I’m  thirty-ish �" stopped growing!”

 

He looked at me appraisingly �" checking for bullshit and seeing none as usual between us �" and took over like the old Army man he was -

 

“OK, then �" let’s cut out the chat and get going here, I’ve got the bar all laid out and a couple of comfortable chairs all set up!  Have you eaten?  (I nodded)  Yeah �" one of those highway truck stop feeds �" fill a sumo wrestler for a week, that’s why those truckies all look like sumo wrestlers.  All right, then �" no need to stuff about �" let’s get to it then!”

 

“OK �" I’ll just duck into the loo for a minute first �" then I’ll be right back!  Good to see you, Gramps!”

 

 

 

 

His eyebrows went up in mock surprise - “Gramps?  That’s a new one, I must be getting old then �" all right �" KID!  I’ll be settled like a nice tame old bloke with a couple of glasses when you get into the lounge room.  Got the fire going, too �" all nice and cosy!”

 

I laughed.

 

“You �" get old?  When did that ever happen?  Back soon!”

 

He waved over his shoulder and headed off through the French doors as I disappeared into the loo and let out the steam that had built up after those cups of coffee at that truck stop!

 

*     *     *

 

Two hours and four Guinnesses and two Jameson’s (full thank you) later, Gramps and I had covered every possible thing that a pair of old friends could �" yep �" my kids were OK though they didn’t seem to work hard enough at school, and he still shook his head over my own father �" his son �" as usual saying that he took after his mother more, and we mellowed the night along with that Guinness and Jamesons. 

 

All the catching up done, he fell silent for a moment and just looked off into the fire.  I knew something was coming, so I just sat quietly and waited, Guinness in hand, until he was ready.

 

He took a gentle sip of his tumbler of Jameson’s finest, then a little appreciative drop of the fine Guinness that he held in his had, and still without looking at me directly, but rather at the fire, he began his story that he’d asked me here to hear.

 

“I suppose you’ve been wondering why I asked you to come like this �" just the two of us �" and maybe for the last time.  Now don’t say anything �" it’s just the way things have to be for us all sometime �" and I don’t want to hear any sad sobs and stuff �" I told you all years ago that when I go you’d better have a damned fine party and enjoy it or I’ll bloody well haunt you all, and I mean it!  I reckon I’ll get to see your grandma and my old dog again soon �" jeez I miss them sometimes �" and I’m most likely overdue anyway.

 

Now hush and let me do the talking!

 

I asked you to come here to tell you something that only I and one other in this world know �" and you mustn’t reveal it to anyone else ever �" understand?”

 

He looked at me for the first time since he’d started until he saw my acceptance of his conditions in my eyes.   I nodded to give him the assurance that I meant to keep my word to him.

 

“Many years ago now �" before I met your grandmother �" I met a woman �" a very special woman,  and I want to tell you about her”……….

 

 

“She was special like no other ever �" not before or after �" and I don’t want you to get me wrong.  I loved your grandma as much as any man could �" and she the same with me �" and that’s one good reason why you’re so special in yourself �" but you have to understand sometimes that there are things beyond our control �" things that no matter who we are and what we are, we can never get a solid grip on ‘em and tie ‘em to the ground.

 

This special woman was like that �" no way you could ever tie her down unless she wanted to be tied.  But, man �" she was BEAUTIFUL!

 

Let me tell you how it all began … and ended.

 

I met her one night in one of those places I’ve been �" and I knew right away she was special and had something that…. more than the beauty.. you just can’t describe.  I’m no sure if it was what you’d call love or whatever �" but it sure as hell was a strong attraction �" and it went both ways.  Somehow she saw something in me that she saw nowhere else and with nobody else �" and we were both the same way �" just sort of lost and out of control about it.

 

We met in a dark street, ended up at dinner together, and talking and just looking at each other �" there was this thing that I can’t explain between us… and neither of us wanted to get out of it even if we could.

 

After dinner we walked the streets �" never touching but somehow tied like silk between us �" for ages �" and we just had this…thing.. that never stopped making us feel like we were… one person somehow �" yet separated by a gulf so wide we could never cross it.”

 

Grampa paused, stood up and walked over to the fire, gave it a shuffle or two with the poker even though it didn’t need it �" then turned to me, looking me straight in the eye.  I waited for a very long second or two as he fought for words.

 

“I don’t ever want you to get me wrong.  This was a long time ago, and in a very far away place, and I was different then.  Now I’m an old man and waiting for the Reaper to cash in his chips and claim the pot that I’ve taken from him a few times already.

 

She…was something special…something different…and you couldn’t just put your finger on it as you could with any other woman…she was..damn it.. special.. and as the night went on we grew  closer and closer until you couldn’t see anything between us.. like we were just two parts of the same thing and just walking in one body.

 

Well �" we ended up back at her place �" and before you think you know what happened �" just let me get a drink there �" I kind need a bit for a moment.  Then I’m going for a pee!  Old man’s privilege, young one!”

 

*     *     *

 

 

 

 

He poured himself a liberal Jameson’s, tossed it back like water, and then marched off to the loo for his relief.  I sat and wondered why the hell he’d brought me out here on this cold night to talk about some old flame from years ago �" and one overtaken in his history by my grandmother anyway �" who I knew he had loved as totally as any man ever could love a woman.   He was my grampa, I thought �" I am his grand-son �" and we are like peas in a pod �" so I’ll wait for his story.  It’s his and he needs to tell it, and it’s mine to listen to, because he’s giving it to me to keep!

 

So I thought as he came back through the door I watched as he poured himself a big glass of Guinness, and settled back to wait for his story to unfold.  He rebuilt my glasses first, then took his time re-starting his story, mulling over his long glass of Ireland’s finest until I began to wonder if he’d had enough and was dropping off… and then he looked me in the eyes intently and started again…

 

“We were back at her place �" just us two. Her name was Rosie!”

 

He saw my jaw drop a little in surprise, then I laughed �" my wife’s name was Rose �" and he looked at me intently, as if he were expecting to see exactly that response from me, and then, instead of moving on and sweeping that shock under the carpet �" he held my gaze until I was lost and had no idea where he was going with this… MY Rose was only thirty years old, so what the hell?

 

“She sat me down in an armchair, and set herself opposite me, and told me stories of things that no man can ever hear and think her sane �" about blood and death and things that…no woman should ever do and be, and as she spoke, I felt a growing feeling inside me that with all the things I’d been and done and she’d been and done �" we were somehow the same and had never been different in any way.

 

She told me of a world we could both share �" a world where we could shut out all the others and just be what we are �" forever �" and it was so alluring.  Maybe a chance to get away from all that grunt stuff and BE something else.  And she could see that I knew the same things myself, I’d always been different, and felt those same things inside me like a growing wind that she’d started somehow…so she stood and came to me as only a women who is one with you can �" one who KNOWS she belongs utterly with you and to you for all time….

 

As she floated - for no other term could describe the way she moved without apparent weight or even much more apparent movement than a small flicker of her long flowing black dress - across the room towards me, I could only give no more than ten percent - even less - to that movement in any case - for my whole mind and soul were somehow trapped within her wondrous, lustrous face glowing like the light of the moon at harvest, topped by that luscious, flowing midnight velvet hair that fell forever away from her deep violet and somehow ensnaring eyes and red lips that drew me to them like a whirlpool draws doomed sailors.  Unable to take my eyes from her - even almost unable to move as she drew nearer and nearer - I could only sit and stare like a rabbit trapped in the sharp-pointed glow of the hunter's torch, such was her power to move herself within her body and move my self within me at the same time....

 

 

 

What could I do?  What could any man do?  Let  me tell you!  I ran!

 

I forced myself to wake from this dream of an Arcadian Heaven laced with Valhalla and flowing streams of wondrous women pouring like silver sunlight on an Olympian fountain - and fled, near mindless, into the screaming night - a night that screamed more deeply and endlessly for my leaving her and echoed in the halls of forever within me even unto all future generations  - yet no more than my very soul screamed at being so untimely ripped from that which it most demanded of me.... for its very life.. She… All Women That Are and Ever Were and Ever Will Be... the Vampyre Woman… Rosie….Rosie….oh, Rosie!”

 

Saying this �" he collapsed into his armchair, and somehow looked as if he had indeed shrunk into someone so much less than he’d ever been, even now, and was silent for long minutes until I thought he might be on the verge of passing over.

 

I reached for him and touched his shoulder, at which he slowly looked at me with eyes of utter desolation for another long minute as he grasped for words.  Then he spoke again.

 

“You are like me �" you ARE me �" we’ve always known that, you and I  - like two old socks that know each other’s pairings.”

 

He held my gaze with a blazing stare, and we knew, both of us that we were as one as we’d always been, grandfather and grandson, poured me a full glass of Jameson’s -then he said the words in clear and undeniable truth that will live forever �"

 

“She is the One!  Your Rose is my Rosie!  You’ve seen the way I look at her and the way she looks at me at times when she thinks you are not looking - and you and she are me and she and together as we’ve always been meant to be and always will be!  That is what I brought you here to tell!”  The tears started in his eyes as he spoke.

 

He turned away, spent, and quickly lapsed into silence and then sleep as only an old man can enjoy.   I covered him with a blanket and made sure the fire was warm, and settled down with my thoughts alone on the long lounge that I’d always enjoyed as a boy growing up. 

 

I didn’t get much sleep.

 

*    *     *

 

My grandfather passed away three months ago, in Autumn this year down here, and we all attended his funeral and then held a party at which nobody told sob stories out of respect for his telling us he would haunt us all if we did. 

 

We kept our word, Grampa, and in truth, I do miss you so.  Our children, Rose’s and mine �" the twins who look so much like you and she - your great-grandchildren - miss you.

 

 Rosie misses you most of all, and was pleased when I left her to hold your hand in your last moments, and sometimes, when I look into her beautiful violet eyes framed by that lovely face of the harvest moon and surrounded by that lustrous midnight hair as she floats across the floor to me �" I think of you.

 

She knows I do, even as I think it….. and she thinks of you, too, and I see the love for us both in her face and her wonderful eyes, and she never ages as we do - and as I grow older ….. neither do you age any more.

 

One day we will all be the same.

 

*      *     *     *     *

 

Reviews

[The Grappler]

Hmm - Yond Grappler is not overly content with the Vampyre tale of Rosie as such! Here is a potential tale of Vampyre tail that needs some cojones - and not the attempt at a snaggy thing. That's it! From now on it's open hostility between Grampa and Grandson over the Old Man with his sneaky eyes on Rosie! That grandson will get to the bottom of it!

[CrashQueen♛]

I like it Mr. Grappler, especially the ending.