Granny Tales Part i

A. Blinken….. The radio in my truck is stuck on NPR. Usually, it induces narcolepsy to drive and listen to the even, well-modulated tones and carefully phrased, un-alarming blah blah of NPR, but the other day they did a story about this college kid who asked a bunch of people over 80 years old five questions, and recorded their answers for posterity. I decided to do this with my new recorder, to visit Granny Wise and ask her a couple of questions. Because Tally is staying at Granny Wise’s cabin I had to call before going up. Tally answered, I said, "how’s Granny?" She said, "really, really old. She has wrinkles everywhere, I mean places you wouldn’t think get wrinkles." "When she was your age, she was really, really hot, way hotter than you." "Eeewwww. She’s your grandmother, freako." "I want to come up and talk to Granny. I’ll give you a Hamilton to leave us alone for an hour." "I don’t think so, you’re a freak for family members. I think maybe I should call a policeman. Make it a Jackson." "Done. Tell her I’m coming up." I bought a bottle of slivovitz and two cans of kippered herring, which is what Granny likes with slivovitz, and a quart of chocolate milk for Tally since I knew she’d be a baby if I didn’t bring her something. I knocked on the door, and Granny said, "federal agents or the pokin’ pryin’ A.B.?" Tally opened the door. She was dressed in a flannel shirt and a pair of blue jeans; her hair was just combed, there was no makeup; she looked like a normal person. She said, "there’s nobody here." I pushed past her, handing her the milk. Granny was sitting at the table; I plunked the slivovitz and kippers down and sat in the seat next to her, instead of my usual place at the other end of the little wooden table. "Granny, I want to record your voice and your wisdom for posterity." She said, "oh, A.B., you’ve been listening to public radio in your truck again, haven’t you? I guess it could be worse, if the radio was stuck on a country-western station you and your Honey would be divorced by now." "Really, Granny," I said, holding up my recorder and nudging it to "record", I just want to get your voice down so everyone remembers what you sound like, and the story of your life, in your own words, in your own voice." "You better get that thing out of my face or all it’s going to record is you straining to pass wind around it. You forgot glasses and a fork." I shut the recorder off, got up for glasses and a fork and Tally was standing with a towel over her shoulder and her hand out. I gave her twenty bucks, she said, "I’m going out for a sauna." I sat down by Granny again, restarted the recorder and said, "Please state your name, where you were born and the year of your birth." "Why, I’m not applyin’ for welfare. You forgot to pour. If you’re going to ply me with liquor and canned fish, at least serve. Bring my tin down from the shelf, too." I shut the recorder off, poured her a shot and opened the kippers, and got her corncob and weed down from the shelf. I sat down, the shot was gone and Granny had fish breath. She took the tin, lifted the pipe out, shook and shook the tin to reduce some pure resin from the crumpled buds, loaded the bowl and waited while I got my lighter and fired it up. She took a big pull and held it a second, then let it go in a big, hashy gust. She handed me the pipe and I took a big hit; after a second the wave of weed flushed over me, and I felt the tension leave my back and shoulders. Granny said, "my joints have been on fire the last few days, and I can’t afford twenty bucks to make Tally take a sauna, so I haven’t been able to smoke. Now, boy, what did you want? My jigger is empty." "Granny, just tell me the story of your life, that’s all." "I have a better idea, why don’t I tell the story of your life? I think posterity needs your life, in my own words. You going to marry that pipe?" I took a quick puff and handed it back. Granny finished the bowl, put the pipe in the tin and tossed back the shot and a slender bit of kipper. She said, "I won’t tell you my life, since there’s nothing interesting about me, but I’ll tell you stories about people I’ve known who’s lives mean something to everybody, just as a lesson. But, if I’m going to do that, I want Tally to hear, too. Throw a pinch of cinnamon on the wood stove to cover the smell, and go get her." "Awww, Granny, she’ll interrupt. Let’s leave her out there. She’s probably naked by now." "’Waaaa, I gave her twenty bucks to disappear’. I’ll go get her, but I’m old and my hips are like soda crackers and the ground is covered in ice and snow." "I’ll get her. I still don’t see why she’s getting paid to live up here." "She’s getting paid because she’s pregnant, she needs a work history to get a job, she needs money. Her mother can’t handle her but doesn’t want her in foster care. Everyone’s afraid she’s doing meth and don’t want her to poison the baby. Are those good reasons? Did you want her to have a young’un but no job so you could kvetch about her being a welfare tramp? Go get her, and don’t worry about the twenty bucks you gave that girl and her baby, it is the least you could do." "I brought her chocolate milk, too." "Oh, well, A.B., you’re a regular Miner’s Charity. Go get her. If I do happen to say something wise, she should be there." So I found myself slogging through the crusty snow around the barn to the tiny sauna. Smoke was billowing from the chimney; she was using too much wood and would burn the place down. I knocked on the door, shouted, "Granny wants you to come in the house." There was an unintelligible reply through the door. I shouted again, "Granny wants you to come in the house." Tally opened the door; she was still dressed. "I bet you were hoping I’d be naked. You came too soon." "No, Granny wants you to come into the house to hear the stories she’s going to tell me." "What? She still reads you stories?" "No, these are stories from her life. She’s lived a long time. She was your age over seventy years ago, look at it that way. She’s seen a lot of things, and I learn a lot from listening to her." Tally shrugged, pushed by me. I went in and dampened the stove and followed her in. She opened the door to the cabin and said, "hey, you guys had pot Danish and didn’t save any for me?" I sat at the table next to Granny, and pushed "record."

End of Granny Tales Part i

Continued in Granny Tales Part ii