Archives of Despair

Flat Granny

'Now remember, kids, Granny and Grumps are getting old. Granny’s back isn’t what it used to be, so we can’t just jump on her as soon as we get in the door,’ Mum said, craning her neck over the back seat.

I shoved my game back into my bag and heaved it over my shoulder, stretching my legs after the three-hour drive.

‘Do we really have to stay here overnight?’ I said, rolling my eyes. ‘I can watch Lucy. I’m old enough to look after her.’

‘Please don’t make this harder than it needs to be, you know I have to work, Blake. The sitter was busy, and Granny and Grumps are so excited to see you again,’ Mum replied, opening the door for Lucy to get out.

I let out an exaggerated sigh. Mum hates when I do that, but I really, really didn’t want to come here.

I hate old people; they creep me out.

Granny and Grumps used to be fun when I was little, but now Granny always has this blank stare that weirds me out. It’s like the lights are on but nobody’s home.

As for Grumps, well, he’s Grumpy. Mean, old, bitter Grumps.

‘Blake, do you want to go knock and let them know we’re here?’ Mum asked.

I resisted another eye-roll as I dragged my feet over to the front door.

Granny and Grumps have lived in the middle of nowhere for as long as I can remember. This visit, the house looked worse than ever.

The gardens were overgrown, the front porch was clut­tered with old furniture and dirty knick-knacks. It felt like a different world compared to our nice, normal house in our nice, normal neighbourhood. Mum had tried to get them to move closer when I was born, but Grumps refused, saying, ‘I’ll never sell this house!’ Fine by me.

I hesitated at the door, knowing that as soon as I knocked it would be the start of the most boring twenty-four hours of my life. I looked behind me to see Mum swallowed in bags, helping Lucy out of the car.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

No answer. I looked back to Mum and gave a shrug.

‘Knock louder, Blake, they’re old.’

I turned back around and sighed, balling my hand into a fist.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

I could hear a faint thud from behind the door. I pressed my ear against it and tried to focus on listening.

‘Wear . . . this.’

It was quiet and muffled but I definitely heard it. The door swung open with my ear still pressed against it, sending me tumbling to the ground. Two pairs of feet were suddenly inches from my face; one wearing dirty, old brown boots and the other wearing a pair of fluffy, yet slightly crusty, beige slippers.

The smell was terrible.

Old people.

I looked up to meet the gaze of dear old Granny and Grumps.

‘Oh, hello, dearie,’ Granny said with a smile, bearing her teeth. I picked myself up and dusted off my shorts.

‘Granny, Grumps. It’s . . . so good to see you,’ I said sarcastically, knowing they wouldn’t pick up on it. Old people.

‘Don’t be rude, Blake, they’re happy to see you,’ Mum said, nudging me in the back with her elbow.

I looked back at Granny. She looked the same but felt different.

Her eyes didn’t match her smile and she seemed distant, like she was staring a thousand miles away. Grumps looked miserable as always. Such a grumpy guy.

‘Granny!’ Lucy shouted as she flew past me, wrapping her arms around Granny’s legs.

‘It’s lovely to see you all, come on in. I’ve got the kettle on,’ Granny said with a smile.

I followed them, stepping inside the old, dilapidated house. It reeked of stale air and dust. It looked like nothing had been touched in the past ten years.

‘Granny! Where’s my room? I have to set up all my toys!’ Lucy beamed, holding a doll in each hand. She carried those things everywhere she went.

‘Oh, honey, let me sort that out with Granny first, we’ll need to set up a bed for you,’ Mum replied, manoeuvring herself and the bags around all the boxes and furniture haphazardly strewn along the hallway.

Grumps motioned us into the kitchen where Granny was already opening the cupboards to fetch some mugs. She was wearing one of those hand-knitted shawls over her shoulders. It was the first time I’d seen her wearing something like that. It looked nice on her.

I watched as Granny struggled to reach the top shelf.

‘Oh, Blake, be a dearie and help Granny fetch some mugs. Granny’s back isn’t what it used to be,’ Granny said sweetly, before coughing violently.

I walked over to the cupboard and picked up a few mugs. A thick layer of grime covered the handles. I set them down on the counter before wiping my hand against my shorts.

‘None for me, Blake, honey. Mum’s gotta make a move, it’s already past midday and I’m running late.’

Mum grabbed her handbag off the table before walking over to Granny, placing a hand on her shoulder and pecking her on the cheek.

‘Ask Blake for help if you need a hand tidying up. This place is falling apart, Mum.’

Granny wrinkled her brows and tutted at Mum’s comments. ‘Don’t worry, dearie, your father has it under control. Maybe these two munchkins can give Granny and Grumps some help with a little renovation.’

‘Yay! Renovating!’ Lucy squeaked. She really does love playing house.

‘Okay, well, Lucy’s bedtime is at seven. Blake can stay up for a couple more hours but no games after lights out,’ instructed Mum, shooting me a look.

I replied with another eye-roll. That’s what she thinks.

While Mum said goodbye to Grumps, I helped Lucy carry her bags into the second living room. She’d brought so many dolls, no one needed that many.

‘Lucy, wait,’ I whispered as Lucy whipped around. ‘Does something seem . . . weird about Granny and Grumps? Like, weirder than usual?’

Lucy furrowed her eyebrows and shook her head. ‘Don’t be mean, they’re just old people.’

I sighed as I followed Mum to the front door. We waved goodbye as she hopped back into the car. There went my last chance to escape; guess I really was stuck here for the next twenty-four hours.

‘And . . . done,’ I exclaimed, proud of the makeshift bedroom I’d helped make for Lucy. It looked like the only bedroom was upstairs, so we had to make do with a blow-up mattress in the second living room. Lucy was busy lining up all her dolls on the windowsill. I could hear her talking to them.

‘Stacey, babe, this is such a great vacation, isn’t it?’ she said in a deep voice.

‘Oh, Mark, you’re so hot, this is the best vacation ever,’ Lucy continued, in a slightly higher voice, making the dolls kiss repeatedly.

Where did she even hear this stuff?

The slight shuffling of feet against the floorboards pricked my ears as Granny stuck her head into the room.

‘Hello, dearies, the telly’s on in the other room if you’d like to join me.’

Lucy stayed behind, but I followed Granny into the living room. TV seemed like the only normal thing in this bizarre house.

It was a miserable little space, dimly lit by a TV the size of a microwave. I could only see the top of Grump’s bald head as he sat in his recliner facing the television, watching what looked like a black-and-white re-run of an old sitcom. There was only one other chair in the room, which Granny was already slowly lowering herself into. It must have been a pretty cushy chair – she sank so far into the couch that I could barely see her face from the side.

‘There’s a spot on the rug for you, dearie. It’s time for our soaps,’ Granny said as she pointed to the stained, old carpet in the middle of the room. It was fraying at the edges and, even from here, looked very uncomfy.

‘Granny, this carpet is uh . . . lumpy.’

Grumps quickly whipped his head around in my direc­tion with an offended look.

‘There’s nothing . . . wrong with the rug. You kids these days always . . . complaining about . . . something,’ Grumps huffed and wheezed as he dismissively waved his hand.

Granny bent over her chair and looked at me, or through me, I couldn’t tell.

‘Now, dearie, Grumps worked hard to fix this old house.’ I couldn’t focus on Granny’s words without being distracted by her distant gaze. She still looked like she was a million miles away. She leant over a little closer, whisper­ing in my ear, ‘Rude boys will be punished.’

I felt a little uneasy looking back at Granny, her finger pressed against her lips. The tone of her voice was sweet, but her dead eyes gave her words an unsettling edge.

Grumps stayed motionless in his chair, unaware Granny was still talking to me. I sat on the uncomfortable rug, looking up at the old TV and readjusting every few seconds to ease the strain on my back. Every couple of minutes, I glanced back to see Granny staring at me, her finger still pressed against her lips. The excruciating awkwardness eventually got too much. I had to get out of there.

‘I’m gonna go, uh, get something to drink. I’ll be right back.’

I carefully avoided falling over the lumps and quickly shuffled out of the living room. Granny’s stare was still boring into the back of my skull.

The atmosphere in the kitchen wasn’t much different. Dirty plates and cups were stacked high in the sink, and the old cuckoo clock had been taken off the wall and carelessly shoved onto the counter, acting as extra bench space for even more cluttered mess.

I searched for the cleanest cup and turned on the tap. The pipes rattled and clanked as the water pressure slowly picked up, spitting out a yellowish liquid. I hoped it was water.

I took a small sip and gagged, tipping the rest back down the sink. It didn’t taste anything like the water back home.

I surveyed the room, trying to avoid staring at the headache-inducing wallpaper for too long. It was made up of yellow and brown flowers that consumed the entire kitchen wall.

I was already feeling foggy and light-headed. The spaces without wallpaper were the doors to the living room, hallway and the basement . . . which was locked?

I looked closer and noticed not one, not two, but three separate locks on the basement door. Whatever was down there, Granny and Grumps wanted to keep it a secret. At this point, I didn’t think I’d be surprised even if they were hiding dead bodies.

‘Hello, dearie.’

I nearly jumped out of my skin as I turned around to see Granny standing directly behind me. I guess in her old age she’d forgotten about personal boundaries.

‘Um, hi, Granny. I was just, uh, looking for the bathroom,’ I quickly responded, trying to cover my obvious snooping.

She stared at me and slowly inched closer. I swiftly moved aside as she walked over to the basement door, pulling a set of keys out of her pocket.

‘Basement has your curiosity, hmm, dearie? Don’t fret, my dear, no dead bodies here, nothing of the sort. Granny isn’t that adventurous,’ Granny chuckled as she began unlocking each lock and placing them on the counter.

‘Have a look for yourself, dearie. Don’t mind the smell.’

Granny creaked the door open.

I gagged as the most wretched odour seeped out from the basement.

‘Granny! What is that smell?!’ I said, choking on my words.

Granny wasn’t fazed. She smiled at me with her empty eyes, motioning with her bony finger for me to follow.

The old stairs creaked and moaned as I followed her down into the pitch-black basement. I took turns covering my nose and mouth, but the smell remained consistently unpleasant.

Granny pulled on a string hanging from the roof and the basement suddenly . . . stayed dark.

‘Oh dear, must have blown a fuse. C’mon, dear, take my hand,’ Granny said, grabbing my hand with her cold, wrinkled fingers.

‘Actually, I should probably check on Lucy. She’s –’

‘She’s fine, dearie. Grumps is with her,’ she said as she led me deeper into the lightless basement.

‘Curiosity killed the cat, so let’s make sure it doesn’t kill you,’ she continued.

I couldn’t see her face, but I could picture her lifeless eyes and mismatched grin perfectly. I collided with and tripped over knick-knacks and old furniture as Granny pulled me further into the basement.

‘Ah, here we are, dearie.’ Granny stopped in front of me, her shallow breathing the only sign of where she was in the room.

‘Hold out your hand. Don’t be shy, have a feel.’ I felt myself tense as Granny pulled my arm forward. My hand connected with something that was hanging from the roof.

Whatever I was touching swung around as I pressed against it. I grabbed it with both hands and felt around with my thumbs. It felt rough and dried out, as if it had once been smooth but had been hanging for so long that it was now something else.

‘What is it, Granny? It feels . . . old?’ I asked.

‘This is some of your Grump’s latest handiwork. He’s taken up a new hobby in skinning,’ Granny replied joyfully.