Usually, about this time of year I start to get a little sentimental with all the holiday shit. I start to get excited about hour long specials where you can watch little clay dentists hang out with little clay reighndeer, and do funny stuff in the snow. But really, it has a lot to do with my grandpa. Big John we called him, I think he was blind, if he wasn’t his glasses were so thick, that he should have been. He was also pretty fat, I don’t know how he buttoned his shirt, because he stopped buying clothes when he was thin, so you could always see undershirt between the stretched buttons. Needless to say the kids all loved him. Grandpa John could sleep like the devil. I swear you couldn’t wake that bastard up from a nap with dynamite, and he took naps whenever he wanted, which was quite often. So anyway one Thanksgiving we took that dreaded ride into New Jersey which is kind of like eating warm mayonnaise. Two long hours in the car all jammed up in a suit, destination…..junkyard, just to see Grandpa John sleep. We arrive, no presents from grandma, sit around in a stink house waiting for the goddamn turkey to get done. Now here is the deal. Us Link kids were at the age where we couldn’t care less about food, you know? That was for the grownups, so with no presents from cheap ass grandma we were on our own. That of coarse left Grandpa John.
We snuck in the living room, and he was asleep in a chair. Like a big blind hunk of meat. mouth open snoring like some big animal you’ve never seen before. I swear you could feel the air rushing past your ears at he breathed. We crept up to the god awful opening and peered in. Something like a cows tongue moved inside and we ran for cover. After a bit it was apparent that the sleepy demon wasn’t going to stir, My brother Chris threw a marble inside….not a sound. It never hit whatever ground was in there. We giggled like kids will and then I threw in a pencil. Now, all of you who have never laughed at the retard bus can send me mail about how cruel I am, but the rest of you should just shut up. Well anyway, it became sort of a game, what things can we throw into Grandpa John’s mouth without him waking up. Well we got all sorts of really neat stuff in there. Every now and again a boot would bounce off his cheek, but we were a pretty good shot for little kids. We got up to his cigar ashtray I think when the smell of Turkey came floating in the room. When all of a sudden. Wham! his eyes shot open. “How ya doing boys” he said as he got up smacking his lips. I’m gonna go get the turkey neck he said and patted me on the head. After that we all sat down had a nice meal. Grandpa John was in rare form, eating and laughing, and getting our names mixed up. We finished dinner,he went into the next room sat down in his easy chair and never got up again. To this day, it is our little secret.
We never got caught, and I always give thanks.
R.J.Krandell
