Hello, Grandma

By Jim Bob Magill

When Blane's abusive grandmother moves into a nursing home, he returns to Green Oaks, Texas for a fresh start and a chance at sobriety—with or without his friends' help.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jim Bob Magill
• Release date: Feb 1, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301411245

Book preview

Hello, Grandma

Jim Bob Magill

Copyright 2012 by Jim Bob Magill

Smashwords Edition 

HELLO, GRANDMA

A Short Story

  Jim Bob Magill  

For Lauren

It was the first time  she hurt him.

Blane's dad led him to the couch and set his bag on the floor.

Blane waved, but his dad had closed the door.

Static from the kitchen radio, then the announcer read the weekly weather forecast.

The announcer's voice made Blane think of astronauts on the moon.

Grandma spat into a paper cup, then she checked the time on the black cat-clock.

Go on and play somewhere else.

Blane dragged his bag  to the laundry room. The back screen door let in sunlight and fresh air.

He sat with his back to the washing machine and set his toy cars on the floor.

Throw them guns out the window!

He lowered his voice.

You're goin to hell or prison, and I don't give a damn which one.

Out back, metal wind chimes banged against the porch columns.

Blane turned the Mustang toward the police car.

We ain't done nothin!

He turned the Mustang away, then back again.

We was at the show!

Blane reached into his bag and found Private Pete—his favorite action figure. He circled Pete round his back, then stood him next to the cars.

I'll handle this. Watch me shoot out their gas tank.

Blane opened the Mustang's doors.

We give up! It was us!

Too late.

Blane tossed the Mustang onto the clothes dryer, then he flicked his wrist and sent Pete flying through a hole in the screen door.

Pete slid across the porch and dropped down amongst the dead potted plants.

Blane cupped his hands around his eyes and looked through the screen.

You know we're supposed to stay in the house, boy!

He listened for Grandma.

If I come save you, I'm in charge of us from here on out.

Blane looked behind him, then he opened the door and went outside.

A chain-link fence separated  the back yard from pastureland.

On the horizon, light towers rimmed the rodeo grounds, beacons in the dust.

Blane stood Private Pete on a fencepost and looked out across the pasture.

Has to be somebody out there needs savin. Jump up and see.

He threw Pete high above his head.

Pete sailed over the fence and fell into a patch of dry scrub.

No, Pete! Why'd you do that?

Blane lay on his back and scooted headfirst under the sagging chain-link. His shirt caught and he struggled to free it from the wire.

A grackle lit atop the fencepost. It puffed its purple-black feathers and whistle-clicked at Blane.

Get out of here!

Blane threw a dirt clod and the bird flew for the rodeo grounds.

Blane rolled over and tried to stand, but something held his ankle. He imagined Grandma, one hand around his boot, the other gripping the fence wire.

He tore free and ran for the scrub.

Pete sat beneath a brittle bush, beside an