She frantically eyed the clock. It was 8:00. Just 20 min before her favorite daily drama show and the women in front of her seemed not to know how to stop talking. She began her old habit of tearing things up. She started scrunching the napkin in front of her and tearing a piece, scrunching it and tearing it. The pattern followed and all she could see or hear was the clock...Tick....Tick...Ticking away and though the voice of the young new neighbor was booming and loud, it seemed like she was on mute as only her mouth frantically jabbered away into the distance. Suddenly, the old grandma’s blood shot eyes darted to the empty coffee cup. In spite of politeness she asked in a polite voice “would you like some more coffee?” and though she knew the answer perfectly well, she asked, just in case....just in case...it might be hinted in her voice that she wanted the women gone. Gone with the wind. The gabbering women not noticing the desperateness of the grandma quickly answered a yes followed by a quick thank you, as if in effort of trying to cover up her rudeness. She of course knew she was imposing on her old neighbor but since being new to the neighbor and having no one to talk to she thought the old women would be an easy target to land on first.
The old women slowly rose up, holding the side of the coffee table as a support and if gravity itself was failing on her she fell an inch but with an effort scooped back up. Carrying the tea cups with her shaky hands she walked a slow paced walk to the kitchen. The house being a huge mansion, it was hard for the old lady to walk and down up the stairs but she had no choice but to please her guest. For this old lady was all to naive and was often used for other people’s good. She could have asked the lady to leave saying she had an important meeting, or she could have given her the cold shoulder one often gives to an unwanted guest, but she knew of no such kind. She was terribly worried all the time, that even in her such trembling manners, one might be hurt in the heart for any word she said. She had no enemies.
Down in the living room, the new neighbor carefully eyed the last site of the grandma’s skirt trailing behind her and quickly got up on her feat. One might have thought of her as a thief or possibly a spy as she darted around the room, looking around the pictures and furnitures. Her wide suspicious eyes darted wildly like a hyena in search of food. She first looked at the curtain drapes she was eyeing carefully as soon as she had walked in. They were exactly the type she wanted as her kitchen drapes. She quickly took out a miniature scissor from her pocket and without hesitation snipped out a 4cm long piece of cloth. She turned quickly around to see if anyone had seen her and seeing that the grandma was still away and the maid was cleaning the bottom rug, she let out a satisfied grunt and quickly stuffed the cloth in her pocket saying “old people, what would you expect from them” She quickly searched the room more. The fireplace, from where she took a piece of loose brick hanging at the side as an extra. The brick itself was made, each by each, in italy by a famous designer who was also the architectural designer of the whole mansion. And this women, had ruined the art piece it had created as a whole, by taking the end part of the brick that was painted with a lions feet. She did not blink an eye.
She quickly passed by the grand piano and the pictures of the family members when her eyes laid on a great subject she had not yet noticed. A Malisiyo furniture. An actual Malisiyo furniture. Only 3 of them existed in the whole world and was this possibly one of them? In an old granny’s house? The young women was filled with excitement and envy. She licked her dry lips like a wild dog does when seeing its food lying about. But how could this women have a Malisiyo furniture? With even all the money of a billionaire it is not accessible to a normal human being. How and why.......She was frustrated to the point that she was angry when the old grandma had walked in.....
The grandma had given up on her daily drama show, it was already 5 min before the show and this young lady showed no sign of getting up. She started to mutter to herself again. It was a habit she gained during her aging.
“if I don’t then tomorrow would be fine. It would be fine. It might as well do another one. I believe they sometimes replay it for you at 4;00. I would have to ask Miranda about that...she’ll know. She knows everything. No no no....I have that meeting at 3;00 so it wouldn’t be possible....”
she entered the room with such deep concerns about her drama show that she didn’t notice the coffee practically leaking off the tray due to her shakiness, let alone realize her new neighbor who was eyeing her furniture with envious eyes. But she did realize the young women give a little twitch as if surprised she is back already, which the old lady thought that she was sleeping for it was what she herself often did while waiting for one.
The young women started talking again in a more rapid waves this time which led the old lady to start dozing. She folded her hands against her left cheek and crossed her legs with her other hand in between so that her cold hands would be relived by the warmth of her own lap. Once or twice she started bobbing her head up and down but the young women didn’t seem to notice.
She was dreaming a frantic dream. She was falling down the pit of sand and she kept falling and falling into the darkness. It was the dream she had dreamt so many times. She arrived somehow onto the ground in a white area of only white. It was all to white to make up the figure of anything. It looked like what heaven would look. She put her hands over her hair shielding the white light that was not light indeed but was the mere brightness of the background itself. And suddenly the sky, or rather the whiteness cracked into half and from there came a man. Her husband. Her passed away husband who reached down and spoke to her, the words she never could hear. And like always, she didn’t today. She woke up by the sudden phone alarm. She quickly started searching for her phone even though it was not her bell sound. Somehow as she aged, she started thinking everything that ringed was hers. Even in tv shows, if the phone would start ringing, she would start looking for her own. It was a instinct habit that could not be fixed with the mere thought of “that phone bell sound is not mine”
The young women reached into her pocket so swiftly and with a young effort, she clicked her phone open and slowly head towards the bathroom as she spoke,
“Yes Elenor. Mommy is going..Yes...yes,,...ask your teacher about that ...now where is daddy? Put him on the phone”
She entered the bathroom and locked the door and started with an excited voice.
“Henry. Would you believe this. You know the Mansion on the 32 street 2 blocks away from our house, yes...yes that one.. the one with the huge oak tree yes...it has a Malisiyo furniture. Yes! YES! I know! Isn’t it grand! No..she’s a granny. I don’t know but I’ll have to discuss with you on that a bit later. Yes...okay i’ll be headed there. Yes 9:30 at the Oaktown cafe. Kay bye”
She took a look around the bathroom. The smooth marble floor was a color of rich cream and butter. The soft jacuzzi made a hum sound as singing to a song. The grand windows were covered with black and yellow coated velvet covered drapes. The room itself gave out a deep flow of cinnamon and walnut cream. This granny had some taste. Some taste indeed. It was all she wanted. All she ever wanted was in this mansion. In these very rooms through those very curtains.
She walked out swiftly from the bathroom door that was coated with a gold color on a strong brown oak wood. She took a look around and noticed that the grandma was dozing off rather wildly and it would be long before she woke up. A few minutes wouldn’t keep a suspicion and she quietly creeped up the stairs. They looked antique but they didn’t make a sound. The stairs were curved in a S shape and it lead upstairs where the library was held. There were so many rooms in the house that one would think they were trapped in a mirror reflection. One room led to another and another...one would be lost in such a maze. She crept up another height and was rapidly breathing at the height of the stairs. It was a wonder to her how the old granny managed to heave herself upstairs to such amount of stairs. It would be seconds before she might land a wrong foot and land up in the land of the dead. Then where would she leave all her fortune to? Her house? And the furnitures? As she crossed another hall she looked down through the banisters that showed of all that was happening downstairs. The old women was still dozing in her armchair. Now completely in a comfortable position. Almost as if sliding off the chair. The young women quickly glided through the corridors to find the old woman’s
main bedroom. As her eyes glanced here and there desperately, she realized the great gold doors that were covered in white laced drapes. Almost as if hiding the door itself. With shaking hands she held the great brass door knob the size of a small dog. It was curved gently in a “Z” shape and she took one strong tug at the door. It didn’t budge. She tried once more, it moved an inch. The doors were extremely heavy all right. She gave one last frustrated tug and the door opened wide. So wide that one could see everything going on in the room from a mile distance. And there the young women gasped and fell on her knees with utter astonishment.......(as she saw...)
The old woman had awoken from her sleep. She walked quietly towards the table that held her husbands great portrait and a small mini album of their marriage. She started muttering to herself again, this time in a rather quiet and sad mood. She went on and on, completely forgetting about the young women...she was nowhere to be seen but the door that lead to her garden was wide open, which seemed to indicate that the women had gone all at once. The old women slowly took the small picture of her husband and quietly headed towards her bedroom. And when she arrived, she realized the doors were wide open to the room that once used to be their bedroom where now lays the corpse of her husband. Wide open in a casket. Not covered by even a single layer of cloth.