ARTS O’ MAGAZINE
💊 Tattered 💊
Mike Kraus
I rub my eyes and hardly notice kicking a slipper in the hallway. The linoleum floor is surprisingly chilly. A faint light seeps onto it from under the bathroom door. It holds my attention in the darkness. Again, I hear a haunting whisper just under the rumble of a running toilet. I knock on the door and there’s no response. “Are ya awright in there?” I crack the door open and peek inside. “GRANPA! OH SHIT! Ya okay?” His right hand grasps the toilet handle as his body is wrapped around the bowl. He growls weakly as I untangle him and carry him to bed.
I race into the living room to find painkillers and something for nausea. Tablets tumble onto the coffee table. I reference a spreadsheet of times, dates, symptoms, and remedies. A nurse should be doing this, not an inexperienced, stressed-out, scared family member. I throw nearly a dozen pills into my pocket, grab a pot from the kitchen, and a sports drink. I head back to the bedroom and see Grandpa hunched over on the edge of his bed. He’s shrouded in a tattered blue robe and wearing one slipper. “Granpa, ya gotta rest.” I put the spaghetti pot on the floor. “But, take these first. Should make ya feel better.”
“Get dat shit ‘way from me. All da goddamn pills are what’s killin’ me.” I’ve got nothing else. So, I just stare for a moment before I dump all the pills on the nightstand. “Sorry… I don’t mean ta snap at ya. Just feel awful, dat’s all.”
“No worries.” I sit next to him. Heat radiates from the down comforter, flannel sheets, and electric blanket in the summer night. “Anythin’ I can do ta help ya sleep?” His shaky hand lightly clutches my knee.
“Imma gonna miss ya, Luke.” I nearly go blind as my eyes instantly tear up. “Ya’ve always been good ta me.”
“Granpa, it’s too soon fer dat. Yer just havin’ a rough night with da medicine ‘nd all. Let’s just get ya ta bed, okay?”
“Nah, nah, nah. I’m dyin’ ‘nd I got some things I gotta tell ya before I can’t.” I grab his shabby red plaid slipper from the hall and put it on his foot. Then I wrap him up in an extra blanket as he’s covered in goosebumps. “Okay, sit down now. Ya know, I always wanted da best fer ya, right?”
“’Course I do.”
“Well, I don’t know what I’d do without ya. Yer granma died, then yer mom moved ‘way, ‘nd I was forced ta retire. Didn’t know what ta do with myself. Those were some rough times; lonely times. It wasn’t right yer granma suffered like dat. I sat in this house, by myself, just thinkin’ ‘bout it. Just years of bein’ torn up inside ’til yer mom brought ya over.”
“’Member goin’ ta lunch in da ol’ brown car? Just packin’ sandwiches ‘nd talkin’ by da river. Yeah, I liked those. I’d ask ya ‘bout da stuff ya’d be doin’. Had a hard time when ya had all dat trouble with da school. It wasn’t right. Wish I’d done somethin’ dif’rent ‘bout dat.”
“’Nd yer dif’rent. Ya always have been. Don’t know why. Can’t put my finger on it. Fer some reason, ya’ve always been a target ‘nd I’ve tried ta protect ya. Maybe too much. Ya always had a freedom. Yer not interested in da same things others think are important. Just yer existence seems to undermine their point-of-view. Ya challenge people’s beliefs ‘nd opinions without knowin’ it. It makes ’em attack ya outta fear. ‘Nd maybe dat’s it.”
“But, I failed ya, Luke. I let ya out inta da world without ya even knowin’ who ya are. Whatcha gonna do with yerself? Do ya know?”
“Uh…” I’m just thinking how late it is and that I have to find work in the morning. “I dunno… Everythin’s up in da air right now. But, I’ll find a good job. Don’t worry ‘bout dat.”
“Job? I ain’t worried ‘bout no job. I’m worried ‘bout you. Do ya know who ya are?” I yawn and see the clock reads 3:12am.
“I guess so.” I fold my hands together and play with my thumbs.
“Ya guess so.” He scratches his stubble and has a disheartening chuckle. “Well Luke, I can’t tell ya who ya are either. I can make some observations ‘nd try ta help ya find a path. But, dat’s all. Yer lost right now. All ya seem ta do is werk terrible jobs ‘nd watch TV.” His back becomes arched as he coughs uncontrollably. There’s an awful phlegm gargle right before he spits into the pot. “Ya need ta figure out what yer livin’ fer. If ya got nothin’ ta live fer, yer awready dead.” What am I going to say to that? I’m not going to debate the meaning of life with an old man dying of cancer.
I take a few pills off the nightstand and hand it to him. I’ll need really strong coffee in the morning. After a swig of the sports drink he says, “I’m ‘fraid I failed ya. Not leavin’ ya much when I’m gone. Nothin’s left really. But, most of all, I never helped ya find out who ya are. There’s always been somethin’ dif’rent ‘bout ya. Yer not fer this world. Maybe ’cause of dat I wasn’t da right person ta teach ya. I’m sorry.”
“Okay Granpa, nothin’ ta apologize fer.” I gently push his shoulders toward the pillow and get him ready to sleep. “Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.”
“I sure hope so.”
To read more, please visit: Intro: 🏡 History of Walnut House 🏡: https://readmedium.com/c01d241376bf 1) — 🚶 Ramblin’ Man 🚶♂️: https://readmedium.com/e7e0ea6355ff 2) — 👁Just Don’t See It 👁: https://readmedium.com/c93db0285d52 3) 🍸 Awakening 🍸: https://readmedium.com/b72e7dcbd17c 4) 🎸 Gazed In Wide Wonder 🎸: https://readmedium.com/626ce857b1cd 6) 🏭 Warehouse 🏭: https://readmedium.com/31bb79506dee 7) 🍹Little Taste of Grandpa’s Cough Syrup 🍹: https://readmedium.com/135499bc53d8 8) 🍳🥓☕ Breakfast With Anabelle ☕🥓🍳: https://readmedium.com/0839cce6bc47 9) 👾 What Lurks In the Basement 👾: https://readmedium.com/e8e7525f9bcc 10) 🌙 Night Time Is the Right Time 🌙: https://readmedium.com/6f6bbaef1e8e 11) 🖼 Refuge From An Indifferent World 🖼: https://readmedium.com/8ef888cb076c 12) ☠ Skull & Crossbones Memory ☠: https://readmedium.com/3f18f90ac784 13) 💚☕🚚 An Enchanting Evening At the Golden Ticket 🚚☕💚: https://readmedium.com/2f8284be509f 14) 🌭 Gotta Have Some Fun Before Ya Go 🌭: https://readmedium.com/2ca6412ca654 15) ✋ Handsy Hubert 🤚: https://readmedium.com/d7151e07870b 16) 🤵 Fake It ’Til Ya Make It 🤵: https://readmedium.com/f82ade21a44d 17) 🐴📦 Funny Little Box 📦🐴: https://readmedium.com/ea4b2fb0002d 18) 🍕 Tommy’s Pizza, Can I Help Ya? 🍕: https://readmedium.com/4ea3d996da9c 19) 🍺 Dusty’s Saloon 🍺: https://readmedium.com/09d9328ba48f 20) 💣 Does It Matter? 💣: https://readmedium.com/71218e31b858 21) 🥀 Hospice 🥀:https://readmedium.com/c7e330448393 22) 📢 ESTATE SALE! Today 10am-3pm 📢: https://readmedium.com/864c65a8c544
Mike Kraus was born on the industrial shoreline of Muskegon, Michigan. After earning his Fine Arts Degree from The School of the Art Institute of Chicago, he attended Grand Valley State University for his graduate degree. From there, he gained varied experiences from the Chicago Architecture Center, Art Institute of Chicago, Hauenstein Center For Presidential Studies, Lollypop Farm Humane Society, and the Lurie Children’s Foundation. And every place he worked, he had his sketchbook with him and found ways to be actively creative. In 2014, Kraus became a full-time artist by establishing Mike Kraus Art. Since then, he has sold thousands of paintings that are displayed in nearly every state and dozens of countries. Currently, Kraus lives in Rochester, New York with his beautiful wife and goofy dog.
For more information, please visit: Store: http://MikeKrausArt.etsy.com Reddit: https://www.reddit.com/user/BrightscapesArt/ Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/MikeKrausArt Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/MikeKraus/ Instagram: https://instagram.com/mikekrausart LinkedIn: www.linkedin.com/in/mkraus
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