The little girl walked right up her grandparents’ walkway and knocked at the front door. “Baba! It’s me!” she called, but no one answered. “Baba …! Nana …?” Perhaps they’re not home, she thought. But it’s Wednesday and she visits every Wednesday.
“Surely they should expect me …” she mumbled to herself. Worried, she walked to the side of the house and peered through the window. The television was on, but on mute. And the cat was licking something on the—“Ommigod, Baba!” she screamed and took a few steps back before doing a triple-cartwheel somersault crash through the glass window. She dusted the broken glass off her body and ran to her grandfather who was sitting on a rocking chair.
“Hi there, my little one,” he greeted her weakly. “Baba, you’re bleeding! There’s so much blood on the floor and Spotty’s drinking it! Stupid terrorist cat! Murtad excuse of an animal! Hisss! Spit! Piss!” she screamed. “Oh, don’t be alarmed, sweetheart. Maybe she’s just thirsty. Let her be, let her be. Just let her be,” he replied. The little girl was confused and looked at her grandfather for explanation when she suddenly realised something was terribly wrong.
“Ommigod, what happened to your left eyeball?! I can see the inside of your eye socket and it’s totally vile!” she yelped. “Yes … It popped out. It should be somewhere on the floor. Just look for a round bloody Jell-O, that should be it. I suspect it should have some fibrous material on it. My blood vessels …” he explained.
“Eeek! Spotty’s eating it!” she exclaimed. “Let her be, sweetheart. Life’s like that …”, her grandfather said, sounding weaker and weaker. The little girl became increasingly panicked: “Where’s Nana?! Does she know? You need to go to the hospital!”
Her grandfather gave a big sigh and then explained his wife had left him. She found out that morning he had been stealing her money and spending it on his secret teenage wife in the form of the next-door neighbour’s daughter. They got into a heated argument and then she left him. He admitted to his granddaughter he was willing to let his wife go, with condition she should first make him a fresh cup of coffee—black, less sugar.
“She stormed into the kitchen and then came out barging at me with a stone pestle. Ala, you know … Batu lesung. She managed to hit me somehow and the next thing I knew my eye popped out of my head,” he explained.
The little girl was staring at her grandfather blankly, trying to absorb and digest his story. Meanwhile, he kept on bleeding. Then he said, “I didn’t know what else to do. She just walked out on me. With her purse! I’ve been sitting here since. I’m bleeding … And I think I only have three oxygens left. I may be dying, sweetheart. Would you make me that cup of coffee?” The little girl then blinked, took a deep breath and reached out for her grandfather’s pipe on the table.
With a stylish sense of finesse, she lit it and slowly toured around the room. There was glass everywhere from the broken window. Spotty was done with the eyeball and is cleaning herself. Soon the cat will jump onto her grandfather and cuddle up to sleep. The little girl took another puff from the pipe and handed it to her grandfather. She then kissed him on his forehead and walked over to the piano. She hopped onto the seat and started to play her grandmother’s upright Weinbach.
Her grandfather sank into his chair and closed his right eye.