Wisdom ~ Chapter 1

An old typewriter given to Kaitlin by her grandmother is more than what it seems.

CHAPTER 1

Kaitlin sat in the front pew of the funeral home, struggling to hold back the flood of tears that threatened to burst from her eyes.

Her grandmother lay dead in the casket in front of her—the woman who had babysat her everyday after school while her parents were at work. The woman who had taught her to play piano, to read and write grade levels above her class, and who had been a shoulder to cry on when life got too hard. Kaitlin hadn’t realized it until now, but her grandmother had been her best friend.

The preacher droned on and on, but his words all melted together. All Kaitlin could focus on was the casket that would soon be lowered into the ground, burying forever the only person who had ever really known her.

Dark clouds blocked out the sun, sprinkling drops of rain on the car window as she rode to the cemetery and watched her grandmother's casket being lowered into the grave. She had thought that she would burst into tears at that moment, or throw herself onto the casket demanding to be buried along with it, but she was surprisingly numb. She had done nothing but cry over the past week since her grandmother had died, but now she just felt empty.

After the funeral, Kaitlin’s mother put her arm around her and led her to the car. “Thank God that’s over with. I hate funerals. They are so depressing.”

Kaitlin fought back the urge to rip herself from her mother’s side and scream in her heavily painted face. How selfish can you be? Your mother is gone! My grandmother is gone! And all you can think about is yourself? But instead, she bit her lip and allowed her mother to help her into the back seat of the car.

The following morning, Kaitlin stayed at home in her family’s two-bedroom trailer while her mother, stepfather, and two aunts met with the lawyer to go over the will.

She sat cross-legged on her pink and white flowered comforter and leafed through the family photo album. Almost every picture was of her mother. The few pictures she found of herself were school portraits. Finally, she found the one she was looking for. It had been taken at Christmas seven years earlier, when she was ten years old.

They were both sitting on her grandmother’s couch holding the gifts they had given one another—Kaitlin holding a brown-haired, brown-eyed china doll that her grandmother said looked just like her. Her grandmother smiled, her long gray hair flowing over the multicolored scarf Kaitlin had spent months knitting for her. They both looked so happy.

Tears came to her eyes as she carefully removed the picture from the album, taping it to the mirror of the small white dresser with pink flowers that her grandfather had built and painted for her when she was a little girl. “I love you, Grandma,” she said, kissing her fingers and touching her grandmother’s gentle face.

Just then, Kaitlin heard a knock at her bedroom door. It opened to reveal her mother, Selena, holding a large silver suitcase. She was dressed in the same short black dress she had worn to the funeral. Her bleached-blonde hair was styled in a French twist and, as usual, her face was heavily made up. “Come and take this from me, my back is killing me!”

Kaitlin walked over and took the heavy suitcase from her mother, setting it on her bed. “What is this?”
“I have no idea,” Selena replied. “She also left you that old piano, although I can’t imagine where we are going to put it. Why did she have to sell the house and rent that damn condo after your grandfather died? She didn’t even have the decency to keep it so she could leave it to us!
That woman was so selfish. Anyway, you can show me whatever is in there later. I have a dinner to go to with some friends. Now that we finally have some money, I have some shopping to do as well. Do you need anything?”

Kaitlin looked at her mother in disgust. It never ceased to amaze her how self-centered she could be. Her mother had just been buried, and all she could think about was shopping? “No, Mom. I’ll be okay.”

“Suit yourself,” her mother snorted. “I myself am sick of wearing these thrift-shop rags. If you change your mind, call my cell.” She turned on her heel and closed the door behind her.

Kaitlin rolled her eyes and turned to the suitcase. What could it be? She tried to open it, but it was locked.
Why would Grandma give me a suitcase without a key?

Just then, she remembered something her grandmother had given her two years earlier—an old silver jewelry box that had been passed down to her by her mother when she was Kaitlin's age.

Inside had been a few pieces of old jewelry and a small key.
When Kaitlin had asked what the key was for, her grandmother had winked and told her that she would find out someday. Kaitlin had forgotten all about it until now.

Walking over to her dresser, she took the key out of the jewelry box and sat down on her bed next to the suitcase. The key fit perfectly in the lock. She turned it, and the suitcase popped open.

Inside was one of her grandmother’s old blankets—the one she had used when Kaitlin slept over.
That’s strange. If it’s just a blanket, why was the suitcase so heavy?

Kaitlin reached in and felt something hard wrapped in the blanket. She lifted it out and set it on the bed.
She unwrapped the blanket to reveal a very old typewriter.
That’s weird. I’ve never seen this before. Why would she give this to me?

The typewriter was black and looked ancient. The letters on the keys were faded—some worn off completely. Kaitlin took the typewriter and placed it on her small white desk next to her laptop.

I don’t know when I’ll ever use this, but if Grandma wanted me to have it, this is where it’s going to stay.
She walked back over to the suitcase and looked inside to see if she had missed something. Sure enough, a white envelope sat in the bottom. She took it out and looked at it. Her name was scrawled on the front in her grandmother’s shaky handwriting.
Kaitlin opened the envelope and pulled out the single sheet of paper. Her eyes welled up with tears as she began to read.

My sweet Katie,
If you are reading this, I have passed on to the next world. Don’t cry for me, I have no reason to fear death. I know what waits for me, and I embrace it with open arms. The only thing I worry about is you.
I know you haven’t had it easy, which I believe is why we connected as strongly as we did. There is a lot about my past that you don’t know. I didn’t want to burden you with it, and I don’t want to burden you with it now, but I just want you to know that no matter what your life may have in store, just stay strong. It will always get better.
The gift I have given you is something very special. I had intended to keep it locked away forever, but I saw how difficult your life has been. Yet despite it all, you have grown into one of the strongest and most intelligent young women I have ever met. I believe that you have the wisdom to use this gift responsibly, so I am giving it to you.
I know how crazy this is going to sound, but I promise you it is the truth. This typewriter is very old and very powerful. It has the power to cause anything typed on it to come to pass. With it, you have the opportunity to improve your life greatly, but you also have the power to cause great destruction to your life as well as the lives of those around you.
Here are some warnings. I kept it locked away for a very important reason. There are those who have killed and would kill again to get their hands on it. Hide it away somewhere where no one will be able to find it, and only use it when absolutely necessary. And NEVER, under any circumstances, tell anyone about it—including your parents.
Please remember to use this power wisely. Only use it to make your own life better. Try to affect the lives of others as little as possible. It is not your right to meddle with the lives of others. Even if you think you are helping them, you are messing with their free will, and there could be serious consequences. This is why you must think very carefully before typing anything. Everything you write is permanent. Once it is down on paper, it can't be erased.
Remember what I taught you about the difference between knowledge and wisdom. Great knowledge created this typewriter, but it takes great wisdom to use it responsibly. I trust that you understand the difference between the two.
And most importantly, remember that I love you and will be watching over you always,
All my love,

Grandma

Wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, Kaitlin looked at the typewriter in shock.
This is ridiculous. This has to be a joke. A typewriter that can make anything you type come to pass? But why would Grandma lie to me?
She walked over to her door and locked it, sat down at her desk, and rolled a piece of white paper into the typewriter. She stared at the blank page.

How can I test this?

She began to type:

A BIG MAC AND FRIES APPEARS ON KAITLIN’S DESK

She had barely typed the last word before a Big Mac and fries appeared in front of her. Kaitlin couldn’t believe her eyes. This couldn’t be happening! She began to type again:

A HOT FUDGE SUNDAE APPEARS NEXT TO THE BIG MAC AND FRIES

Sure enough, a hot fudge sundae in a glass bowl appeared beside the Big Mac and fries.

“This is insane!” Kaitlin whispered, her mouth gaping open in shock.
She heard a door slam, then footsteps walking down the hallway. Someone tried to open her door.

“Kaitlin! Why is your door locked?”

It was her stepfather, Eric.

“I’ll be right there! I’m just getting changed.”

Kaitlin quickly typed:

A PILE OF OLD HARDCOVER BOOKS APPEARS ON KAITLIN'S BED

Kaitlin looked behind her, and a pile of hardcover books was sitting on her bed. She scanned the room for somewhere to put the typewriter and the food. She quickly shoved it all under her bed, covering it with a blanket. Then she ran to the door, unlocked it, and opened it.

Eric walked in. He was dressed in his only suit—the same one he had worn for his marriage to her mother two years before. His short silver hair was combed neatly away from his face.

“So what did your grandmother leave you anyway?”

“Just that old pile of books she used to read to me, wrapped in an old blanket.”

“Her only granddaughter, and that’s the best she can do?” Eric scoffed. “Can’t say we got much better. Enough to pay off some bills and buy a few new things, and then we’ll be back to recycling beer bottles to buy more beer.” He laughed and walked out the door.

Kaitlin took a deep breath and sighed. There were many things she would love to type into that typewriter, but she remembered what her grandmother said about wisdom and responsibility. She had to be careful not to do anything too hastily.

“But there are going to be some changes around here,” she muttered under her breath. “You can count on that.”