Grandpa? (2nd Place)

Word Count: 508

“Grandpa?”

“Yes, Joey?” Sam stared down at Joey’s small body and stock of auburn hair the glinted like orange gold – just like his father’s. The boy possessed such an inquisitive mind and at the tender age of five, it was no wonder. The world was so new and everything was an adventure. Joey was his only grandson, and Sam didn’t mind if the boy asked him a thousand questions. Spending time together like this was all that mattered.

“Why did my bike break?” Joey asked, sticking out the tip of his tongue as he concentrated on working the large wrench.

“Well … if you don’t take care of things, sometimes they break, or if bike is old sometimes the parts just wear out – like me.” Sam grinned, but Joey didn’t see. All of the little boy’s attention remained focused on the bike. He didn’t want to tell Joey the bike really wasn’t broken; Sam just wanted to teach Joey how to use some of his tools. It wasn’t often they had time to spend together like this and Sam treasured every moment.

“Grandpa?”

“Yes, Joey?”

“Why do people get worn out?” Joey stopped what he was doing and looked up with his large unassuming blue eyes.

Sam sighed. He wondered when Joey would start asking questions about this. Grabbing the oil-can, Sam began to grease the bike’s chain, his bushy brows forming into a serious frown. “Well, Joey they just do. Sometimes their parts get old before their time ... and they just wear out.” Tears filled the corners of Sam’s eyes, but he refused to let Joey see them.

“Grandpa?”

“Yes, Joey?”

“Why did Daddy get worn out? He wasn’t old at all,” little Joey murmured.

Sam cleared his throat, choking back a sob that threatened to escape. “Sometimes …” He stopped and cleared his throat again before continuing. “Sometimes they get tired and God … he saves them from the pain and brings them home to him because he needs another angel.” Sam grabbed the other wrench and held it in his hand. He stared at the words scratched upon it. Sixteen - Samuel. Sam had given Samuel, his only son … and Joey’s father, the wrench on his sixteenth birthday.

“Grandpa?”

“Yes, Joey?” He braced himself for the inevitable. Joey had never spoken of his father until today and Sam knew he would have to be careful about what he said.

“Do you think Daddy would be proud of me fixing my bike?”

Sam hung his head and smiled. It was a sad smile, but a smile nonetheless. “Joey, I know he’s proud of you. Always remember, he’s one of many angels that watch over you now.”

Joey tilted his head, satisfied by the answer. “Thanks, Grandpa. Can you help me with this nut? It’s really tight."

"Sure, Joey, but can you pass me the pump first? I believe your tires need a little air."