Grandpa

Bad Guys Need Flowers - Pt. 19
***************

Cal pushed his front foot a bit more forward. His chance to be the hero had re-arrived. Heroes say awesome things when they’re being heroic, and Cal, like any child of the modern age, knew this. He’d failed to say anything of worth after fending off a scorpion horde, yet maybe this low-key fiscal dilemma would serve as the perfect preparation for any future heroism. A witty one-liner rushed towards his mouth… “I can pay for ten dollars worth of this stuff.”

The witty one-liner hadn’t made it. Some amateur script from the middle of Cal’s brain had beaten it out.

Geraldine: “Oh my! You haven’t said anything that strikes me as polite, but I can tell by your generosity that you are a good boy. In fact, you remind me a bit of my husband – not so much in looks or personality, but in the way you carry yourself. Harry died in World War II. I hang that toy zeppelin over the door to remind myself of him every time I walk in and out the door; not that I would ever forget him – him being my wonderful husband and a marvelous man. It’s just good to have reminders like that, even if they pop up more frequently in people like you than they do in physical objects. I will accept your ten dollar bill, and I will check out these groceries.” She started to grab the sandwich Rog had not so politely slammed on the counter. “Remember: ‘Simply carrying yourself well is nothing if you don’t have anything on your back.’ That’s what Harry said to me, before he left. Then he gave me a kiss. Then I said to him, ‘Even though you’re going to war, remember to be polite. It means a lot to people.’ I never saw him again, but I got letters from some of his friends. They told me a lot of things, but they never mentioned whether or not Harry was polite. I think the letters themselves mean that he probably was.”

The story ended. Cal waited a moment, to ascertain this fact. Then he said to her: “Thank you, kindly lady.”

Geraldine: “Oh my!”