Page 2 - The Final Words

The Final Words

Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

Stephen was never one for modern technology, so, when his grandfather gave him his
old typewriter, he couldn’t wait to start his next novel.

Stephen had his desk all set. Black pens in the holder, stapler to the left, white out to
the right, in case of typing errors, and of course, in the middle, the typewriter. He placed a
clean white piece of paper in the typewriter and readied his fingers. Then the phone rang
before he could get the first word down.

“Hello,” answered, Stephen.

“Stephen, it’s, Grandma. I have sad news,” she said and paused for a moment. “Your
grandfather had a heart attack. He’s gone,” she said crying. “Stephen, are you there?”

“I’m here. How did it happen? When?”

“God works in mysterious ways. Things just happen. He was fine yesterday when he
dropped off the typewriter to you, and Stephen, he was so happy you wanted it. He said most
men of your age are interested in computers, and he was thrilled when you asked him for his
old typewriter. It meant the world to your grandfather. But this morning he complained of
indigestion and then fell to the floor. The paramedics said he was gone before they got here.”

Stephen shocked at the news, hung up the phone without saying goodbye. He sat on his
bed and wept, rocking back and forth, his dog Tommy barking at his cries. His grandparents
raised him since he was five-years-old. They were all he had and now his grandfather was gone.
It was late, and the exhaustion and anxiety became overwhelming. He laid down on the bed
with Tommy leaning against his hip and fell asleep.

The next morning, Tommy awakened Stephen with his barks.

“Okay, give me a break. I’ll let you out in a minute. It’s been a rough night you know. My
grandfather died. I wouldn’t expect you to understand.” Tommy sat and listened as Stephen
spoke. “Maybe you do understand to a certain degree. Sorry, Tommy, I’m just not myself. Don’t
take anything I say to heart.” He opened the back door and let Tommy do his business. It was a
sunny warm day and he let Tommy get his morning exercise until he came scratching at the
back door. “Okay, come on in.” Tommy shook his body and waited for his biscuit. “Here you go.
Good boy,” he said, rubbing Tommy’s stomach.

While Stephen was sipping his morning coffee and reading the newspaper, he realized
he had to call his grandmother back. In his stunned state, he had hung up on her. He rose from
the kitchen table and dialed her number.