A History Book, Sir Elton John, and the Grasshopper Man

By Craig Draheim

The memory of a mysterious 108 year old man kidnaps Terry, a young sensitive boy from a small northern Michigan town in 1998, and throws him into the rough-and-tumble Bowery of New York City ninety five years earlier. Replaced by an identical boy, the only person made aware of Terrys switch and disappearance is his older sister Danielle, who soon discovers herself working against time to find her brother. Her only clues are the prophetic and surreal encounters she has with a very peculiar creature.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: May 17, 2005
• ISBN: 9781463492809

Craig Draheim

Craig Rory Draheim has a varied background, giving him a unique perspective in fiction. Having been a soldier, sailor, painter, carpenter, plumer, surveyor, printing press operator, home health care worker, and maintenance person at a chocolate factory, his experiences are evident throughout his storytelling. He currently lives in Northern Michigan with his wife Margaret. They have two sons, Charles and Craig.Draheim has written three other stories: Coffee with Ghosts; Nuts, Bolts, and Monster Worship; and A History Book, Sir Elton John, andthe Grasshopper Man.

Book preview

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

About the Author

Chapter One

The Old Man

When Danielle left for Spain, Terry was eleven. Ten years apart they never connected until that point. The only thing they had in common was that they liked to do penciled drawings, but neither sibling knew of the other’s hobby. They were always involved in separate things, either in school or personal interests. When Terry was a toddler, Danielle was jealous of the attention he got. When Terry was between five and eight, Danielle was a teenager, and having a little brother around was clumsy baggage. Then Danielle tried college, but she quickly tired of the instructors and the way they seemed to only go through the motions in class, showing little enthusiasm in the subjects they chose to make a career of. Yet, more than that, the class work appeared trivial, antiquated, and built around teachings that seemed to be simple common sense. Besides, she was too anxious be a part of the adult world. Independent, she took on a job and shortly moved out on her own, but that was no simple task. In order to make rent and car payments she had to take on two jobs. So, needless to say, even that phase of her life left no time for Terry. More simply put, the age difference kept the brother and sister apart.

Danielle was now flying to Barcelona and then taking a short bus ride to an olive farm where her friend and friend’s family lived. This was a vacation that Danielle needed badly, one her parents helped to arrange so they could see their daughter have some sort of social life. The friend that she was visiting had been a foreign exchange student three years earlier at the school Danielle went to. Terry went with his parents on a two hour drive to the airport to drop his sister off. The siblings rode in the back seat. Danielle watched quietly out the window into the night, excited just as much about flying in a plane for the first time as she was going to a different country. Mom and dad periodically gave last minute advise on what to do and what not to do, but Danielle paid little attention, although she was grateful for all they did, including handling most of the finances for the trip. And Danielle knew what a sacrifice it was, because her parents both made a very modest income.

Terry however cared very little about taking his sister to the airport or that she was going to Europe. He quietly played his Gameboy and listened to his portable radio with a headset on, not liking the station his parents were listening to, and having nothing really to talk to his sister about. In fact, he sarcastically said his goodbye to Danielle before they got in the car, suggesting it may be too hard to do at the confusion of the airport.

While turning the knob to a different station, after losing reception from the last, Terry came across an oldies station that was playing Daniel by Elton John. Hearing the words, he smiled at the similarity and then handed the headset over to his sister. Danielle returned Terrys smile and for the rest of the trip they both joked about the coincidences of the song, even singing some parts and replacing brother with sister. When Danielle came home from Spain a week later, she and her brother gradually became inseparable, even after their parents divorced in 1997. By now, knowing of each other’s hobby, Terry would spend countless quiet hours with Danielle at her apartment drawing pictures of places, people and things that made them both feel good.

In 1998 Terry was twelve and Danielle was twenty two. Danielle was now renting an apartment in town above Daley’s Fish Market and working at a senior citizens home thirty miles away, as a janitor and to help wherever she could be useful. The staff, liking her work ethic and good nature, were able to get her a raise and then she was able to give up her second job as a video store clerk. Not that she minded it, because she loved talking about movies to the customers plus the free rentals that she would bring home so her and Terry could watch, but because two jobs were becoming overwhelming.

Sometimes when Danielle had the day off work, she would still go to the home just to visit a couple of the residents. And on several occasions she would take Terry along, although he was a great deal less interested than Danielle was. It was however something to do, and he usually got a treat because of it, or if he didn’t get a treat, his mother or father would give him money so he and his sister could get a bite to eat if they wanted. To top it off, there was always Elton John’s greatest hits to listen and sing along to. Together they sang as courageously as Pavarotti, but separate they only hummed.

To Danielle the old folks always had an interesting story to tell. Terry had a habit of calling the elderly at the home old folks, but no one seem to mind. Danielle did at first, until after it slipped out so many times she became used to it, and even used the phrase herself. One afternoon in late October on a Saturday, Danielle picked up her brother from their mothers house to go see someone that Danielle told Terry he’d find very entertaining. Terry really didn’t want to go that weekend, simply because he didn’t want to miss a new episode of his favorite cartoon. But he agreed after his sister begged him, and also promised to rent him a video game afterward.

So why did you want me to go with you so bad, Terry asked Danielle as soon as they ducked in her small, red Chevy S10.

Well there’s this guy that just came to the home this week and he’s a hundred and eight years old. As soon as Danielle said a hundred and eight, she raised her eyebrows, expecting Terry to be just as amazed as she was initially, and he was as well.

No. You’re pulling my leg.

I swear on a stack of baseball cards, little brother.

Wow. That means he had to’ve been born in… 1890. Wow.

I know. Pretty cool, huh?

Yeah.

Not only that but you should hear all the cool stories the guy has to tell. He starts out by calling them dreams, but he tells them so well that it sounds like he‘d been telling them for years. Danielle then became a little more serious. The only problem is… that sometimes he says things in the middle of his stories that don’t pertain to the story. And once in a while he falls asleep if he’s been talking too long. So it kinda helps to interrupt him and ask a question every now and then.

What do you mean he says things that don’t pertain to the story?

Well, he’ll shout out something like he’s shouting the headline of a news story. For instance he may be talking about seeing Buffalo Bills Wild West Show as a little boy, then all of a sudden shout ‘Wireless message spans Atlantic Ocean’. And then he’ll return to telling his story.

Oh, Terry responded looking puzzled.

You’ll see when we get there, bro… Elton? Danielle held the CD in front of Terry.

You know it, Terry answered with a smirking half smile.

Danielle had only a cassette player in her little pickup, but thanks to a converter Terry bought her for Christmas, along with the greatest hits CD, they could listen to their favorite songs without waiting for a rewind or fast forward. Terry put in the CD as Danielle drove.

Number five? Terry asked.

"Honkey Cat, right?" Danielle asked to double check.

Yup.

Play it, little bro.

As soon as Elton John started singing, Terry and Danielle joined in. "Whennn I look back, boy I musta been greeeen… boppin in the country, fishin in a streeeam. Lookin for an answer,… tryin to find a sign… until I saw your city lights… honey, I was blind."

*****

The first time Terry went to the senior citizen home he noticed how there were no steps. Every transition in the floor level had a ramp. Later Danielle told him it was because a lot of people there had either wheel chairs or moved around on walkers. Some of the hallways were so long that Terry imagined, if he could ride his bike through them, he’d easily be able to get a lot of air on one of the ramps with the speed he could pick up. The building had a main corridor and from that several wings branched off on both sides, but never opposite each other. Each hallway was lettered and every room down the hallway was numbered. No hallway went beyond the length of twelve rooms, and if it did it was only because of a nurses station, supply locker or utility room. The hallways were plenty wide enough that Terry knew he could turn his bike around at a steady speed. There were two chairs outside each room that Terry assumed were for guests, but because all the chairs seemed as though they were never moved, Terry assumed instead that they were put there so the old folks could rest, though Terry never saw anyone sitting in them but once. If the senior citizens sat anywhere beside their own room, the rec room or the cafeteria, it was in the main corridor. And that too was where all visitors had to pass through in order to sign in at the information desk. Besides, that was the only way anyone could get to the other hallways. Unless of course someone opened up one of the emergency exits from the inside.

Mr. Robella, the hundred and eight year old man, was in hallway D, room seven, which Terry was glad to hear. That hallway was one of two nearest the desk. Terry felt uncomfortable passing by the old people sitting in the hallway. Most times they only stared at Terry even when he tried to smile or nod. His sister was quite different, waving, saying hi, and calling the folks by name, but still many of them treated Danielle the same way. Terry asked her after the second trip he made with her to the home, why the old people seldom responded.

Sometimes they don’t respond because they’re not used to someone noticing them; others may have dementia or Alzheimer’s, and some just may be slow and need more time. Then there are those that are bitter because of the cards life has dealt them. And then some simply feel useless and depressed. This home here is for elderly people that need more care than say our grandma and grandpa, or usually people that are older than them… Follow me?

Yeah, I follow, but they still make me feel funny when they stare at me.

How do ya mean?

I dunno. They kinda make me feel guilty I guess.

When Terry and Danielle approached the hundred and eight year old man’s room, the door was open, but most doors for residents remained open until evening hours. His was a double room with no other occupant. Most of the rooms were double, but there were a few singles. Terry and his sister found the man sitting in a corner chair, leaning forward with his arms on the rests, staring toward the floor. There was a cannula attached to his nose, tubing that supplied him with a steady flow of oxygen. The tubing wrapped around behind his ears, joined together under his chin, becoming one tube, then ran across the floor over to an oxygen concentrator that was humming like a muffled compressor in the far corner of the room. Terry noticed a large beech tree just outside the old man’s window. A remarkable sight because there weren’t too many of them in the area, a fact his father pointed out to him several times. It was unfortunate because they always looked so much stronger than other trees, especially the way their bark seemed like the skin of an elephant or rhino, gray and nearly impenetrable.

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Mr. Robella, Danielle said, but the man didn’t move. Danielle stepped cautiously forward. Excuse me, Mr. Robella. This time he looked up, slowly and with his eyes lagging behind, eventually settling on Danielle. His eyes were moist with no more white to them, but instead a pale yellow. Then a slow smile came along after he recognized the girl with short and stylish haircut. Danielle was familiar and a very welcomed sight to Mr. Robella.

Hey, hey, hey, how ya doin young lady? Mr. Robella’s voice was as old and used as someone might expect, but with a youthful sincerity, as he thoroughly enjoyed the visit.

I’m doin great. How you doin?

Marvelous. Oh, I have a wonderful dream I’d like to tell you about if you can stay for a bit.

I think that’d be great. Danielle stood next to Mr. Robella and grabbed his hand before the old man had to reach too high, and lightly squeezed it. Terry couldn’t believe how much of an effort it was for Mr. Robella to raise his arms and wondered how much fun he could possibly have, not being able to move very fast. Being old looked boring to him. Simultaneously, as Danielle looked behind to introduce Terry, Terry stepped from behind his sister so Mr. Robella could see him.

I’d like you to meet my little brother…

Target! The old man interrupted raising his voice, and his eyes widening in surprise. He held out his arms for Terry to embrace him. Both Terry and Danielle looked startled.

No, Mr. Robella. This is my brother, Terry, Danielle tried to correct.

Nonsense, Mr. Robella snapped. He was more vigorous now than a moment earlier, as if he were twenty years younger. "Come over here and give your Ciny a hug. Knowing Mr. Robellas first name, Danielle realized that Ciny was short for Cincinato. Terry looked at his sister with an expression of what to do. Danielle could only think to go along with it for the moment, because it appeared as though she might upset the old man if she tried setting him straight. So she nodded for Terry to go give Mr. Robella a hug,