Gramps - Short Story / Parable (teenagers)

There was this guy, once. He was a really cool guy. He was this old grandfatherly type, but he wasn’t like most grandfathers. He was way better, and I’ve personally had awesome grampees.  I can’t tell you exactly how he was better; it’s just that when you hung around him, he made you feel like you were the best. Everything you thought was cool, he thought was cool. Everything you wanted to do, he wanted to do. Everything you wanted to be, he already was. And when you went on walks together, you could talk about anything. Sometimes you learned about yourself when you went on walks with Gramps. Like that one time that he asked you about your friend and why he didn’t hang around you anymore. You knew the real reason, deep down inside, but you told him the reason that you had rehearsed to yourself and that you now kind of believed. When he looked at you with such earnestness, love and concern that you looked back and your eyes met, you both knew that you had lied. To yourself, mostly. And a few days later you went and apologized to your friend and you’re still best friends to this day. Remember that? I thought you did.

Well, this guy – I won’t get into too many specifics here – but Gramps has lots of kids, and they all call him Gramps, even though they could call him Pops, or Dad or something. It’s just something about the way he looks. And you might not believe this, but he has like, over a hundred kids. Yes, a hundred kids, and you’re one of them. Again, not going to get into specifics. Nahgonnadooit.

Living conditions? Not…

Mothers? Gonna…

Age of said grampee? Do it.

Nahgonnadooit.

It’s just not important after all. When you stop to think about it, there are lots of things you don’t know about Gramps, but what you do know is so cool it just doesn’t matter anyway.

Gramps treats his kids in unique ways. He has these different little rituals and traditions that he shares with every one of you and your siblings. One of them is that when he feels you are ready, like when you’re a teenager, but when you are a responsible teenager – yes, folks, they do make ‘em – he gets you your very own car. He has to feel sure that you can handle the car before he hands you the keys, but when he hands them to you, you get to keep it and drive it whenever you want, until he wants it back, sometime way in the future. For all intents and purposes, it’s yours. What kind of car is it? Well, this is the unique part. Everyone gets a different kind of car. Well, not everyone. I mean, can you name a hundred different makes of car? But you have the Chevrolet Cavaliers, you have the Kia Sportages, you have the Beemer 7 series and you have the occasional Lamborghini. But see, when you get the car, it just doesn’t matter what anyone else got. You know it’s the best thing for you, because Gramps wouldn’t give you anything but the best for you. One of your brothers, Freddy, he like, damaged himself on an almost daily basis from the time he could walk. He was a walking stitch. He was mostly stitches, with some flesh attached, from age two to age 19 when he finally got his car. Can you guess what he got? Now use your inherited Grandfatherly wisdom here. Yes. He got a Yugo. Now there’s nothing wrong with a Yugo. I have a good friend who is an accountant and he’s had his Yugo for like 200 years. It’s on its fourth engine, and I’m not kidding. I guess Gramps decided that Freddy would kill himself in a souped up Dodge Viper like some of his siblings got, so Freddy got the Yugo. You’d think Freddy would be bummed, but nope. The first day he got that thing, he was so proud! He drove that blue puppy around the neighborhood like a Soviet Bloc nightmare. It glistened in the sun. The chrome shown and the paint was immaculate. And when he got it home, know what he did? He washed it. Got a bug on the windshield, see. The bug wasn’t even smashed. Freddy had been driving much too slow to smash a bug. That little critter was just a ridin’ along, big ol’ bug smile, antennae wavin’ in the breeze like some kind of parade girl. When he stopped, he saw it fly off, so he knew it wasn’t smashed, but he washed his brand new ride anyway, just in case that little ladybug had had an accident or something. Freddy was like that for a long time. He treasured his car and drove it whenever he could.

One day though, Freddy came home in tears. Gramps could tell it was time to spend a bit of time with Freddy so they went on a walk. There is this special place Gramps likes to go to take walks, but you have to drive there. When he asked Freddy if he wanted to drive, Freddy said no. So Gramps drove (he has the coolest car in the world anyway.) So they got to the place and it was beautiful. The sun was nearing the horizon, and the sky was all pinks and orange. A stream meandered nearby. They started walking. After a while, Freddy told Gramps why he was crying and why he didn’t want to drive. It seemed that some of the other guys had been laughing at him. When Gramps asked why, Freddy started to cry again. When Freddy finally got hold of himself, he said between sobs that some of the other guys were laughing at him because he drove a Yugo.

“Well, what did they say?”, asked Gramps.

“Well, nothing,” Freddy answered. “They just pointed and laughed at me as I drove by.”

“So they weren’t laughing at you.”

“Gramps, yes they were,” Freddy insisted. “They were laughing at me for driving a junker car.”

Gramps stopped and looked at Freddy. Freddy stopped, too.

“They weren’t laughing at you, Freddy”, he said in a slow, patient voice that we all love to hear. “They were laughing at your car, and that is completely different.”

Freddy considered this. “How is that different?” Freddy asked.

“Well, Freddy,” Gramps still had that patient tone, “they didn’t talk to you. They don’t know you, even though they are your siblings. You guys are too far apart in age to really know one another, unless someone makes a special effort. They are really great guys most of the time, but they can be a little…well, shallow sometimes.”

Freddy thought about that for a minute. “You should have seen Marvin. He was actually rolling on the ground. He has a great car, Gramps. It’s an 8 – series Beemer. It has leather, and a rockin’ stereo and it goes zero to 60 in like, one.” He took a few more steps. “It sure seemed like he was laughing at me.”

“How could he be? Yes, he may have been laughing at your car, but let me tell you something about Marvin.”

This took Freddy by surprise because Gramps seldom spoke about his other kids.

“What?” Freddy asked.

“Marvin was in to my office two days ago. Do you know why?”

A guy like Marvin in Gramps’ office? What kind of problems could Marvin possibly have? Freddy couldn’t imagine, so he just shook his head.

“Well, Freddy, he was almost hysterical because Fabio and Brooke were laughing at him for his car.”

Freddy was incredulous. “The Lotus Esprit Turbo guys?”

Gramps nodded a hint of a smile on his face. “There’s always a better car out there, Freddy. Don’t forget that.” Then he added, “And know what? Fabio and Brooke are in for a surprise. I am granting three Lotus Esprit Turbos next week. All brand new, but with twin turbos. And they will be four years newer than Brooke’s and Fabio’s.” He paused. “And know what else? Brooke just had some bodywork done on her car last month.”

“Whoa. She did?”

“Yes. The paint was getting a bit tired and she had a few dents in it, so she wanted to get it fixed.”

“Oh.” Freddy was getting the picture now. He walked for a long time in silence with Gramps by his side.

Gramps broke the silence. “Freddy, do you know why I give all my children cars?”

Freddy frowned. “No, I guess not. I thought it was so that everyone could get around, but we could do that on bikes or by walking.”

Something then occurred to him that he wanted to ask sometime. He had seen lots of his siblings walking around without cars. What was that all about? Freddy pushed this thought out of his mind and continued. “But it seems that you create a lot of problems by giving everyone different cars. Why do you do that?

Gramps smiled. “I think you know why I give you cars. So you can get away and learn how to drive. That includes taking care of the car and making good choices away from home. And part of making good choices is learning to see the driver, not just the car.”

“But why did I get a Yugo, and Jamie got a 1967 Camaro SuperSport with dual headers, twin carbs and big hurkin’ mag wheels?”

Gramps stopped to make a point. “Freddy, take a look at yourself. Is there a square inch of you that is not a scar?” He smiled.

“Nope,” smiled Freddy back.

“What do you think would happen if I gave you a car like Jamie’s?”

Gramps hadn’t finished his sentence when Freddy replied. “Yeah - I’d kill myself.”

Gramps laughed, and so did Freddy.

“But you know, Freddy,” Gramps added, “that’s only part of the reason. I know you pretty well. I knew you would take care of your car, even though it’s not the sportiest on the block. I also knew that you were soft-hearted enough to get bothered when some of your siblings made fun of you. And I knew that when they did, instead of totally abandoning your car, you would come to me for help. And because you did, I will now be able to teach Marvin.”

”Huh?” Freddy asked.

“Marvin will be back to me in a few days because after I release the new Lotus Esprit Twin Turbos, Brooke and Fabio will be looking for some way to feel good about themselves. Marvin will be their target. This will upset Marvin, and I will help him remember how he made you feel, which will, in turn, teach him to stop laughing at cars. After, all, it’s the people inside that matter, right?”

“Yeah!” Freddy exclaimed. He felt lots better, although he felt kind of silly about getting all worked up about his own car, as if that was everything.

Then Gramps added, “Earlier, you were going to ask me about the people who walk everywhere.”

Freddy was a little freaked, because he had just thought it. He hadn’t said anything. Gramps was a tad eerie that way. Freddy looked at him with wide eyes and just nodded.

“Those are people that are comfortable letting people know who they are. They don’t want to be in a metal shell, windows rolled up, in their own world. They want to be in the open because they feel that their openness will help people to get out of their cars. They feel that the world would be a better place if more people walked. Less loud music, less pollution, easier interaction. No traffic lights, more hugs. There are lots of advantages.”

“Well, if cars are bad,” Freddy frowned, “why do you give them out?”

Gramps stopped. Freddy saw that they were back at his car, which he just then realized Gramps seldom drove. He looked deeply at Freddy, put both hands on his shoulders and pulled him close. “They’re just a tool to help you, Freddy. A step. And for you, it looks like you are moving in the right direction.”

Freddy smiled. He would try not to worry about cars too much in the future.