The Dark Before Dawn by Laurie Stevens

Author:Laurie Stevens
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: fiction
ISBN: 9781456450113
Publisher: Createspace
Published: 2011-06-24T05:00:00+00:00

His grandfather used to push him on the swing as long as the Malibu Canyon Murderer wanted (and it was always a long time), and his grandfather would listen to everything the little boy said. He marveled at how sensitive and creative his grandson was. He would smile at every word and never berate the boy or tell him he was stupid. In fact, his grandpa often complimented him. They would play tag, and hide-and-go-seek and all the games he never played at home. Grandpa was perfect.

He often asked his grandfather if he could come live with him as they strolled the paths of the park, hand in hand.

“Dedushka, can I go home with you?”

The old man would fall silent, and then explain that the killer’s parents would be very angry if he took him away. “Vnuk,” he would say, “this way is better.”

But he could see the old man’s eyes mist and knew his grandpa didn’t mean it.

The elderly man would take off his hat, sadly wipe his brow, and explain to his grandson that Grandma was a very sick woman. Not sick in her body, but sick in her mind. He didn’t think she could raise a boy properly.

The killer didn’t know if “being raised properly” meant the beatings that he endured when his father was draped in booze or the cold that radiated from his mother. For his part, the killer never talked badly about his parents. They were, after all, the gods of his existence.

Grandpa had been an artisan and made little sculptures out of brass. On one Easter he gave the killer an intricately scrolled brass egg. Looping around the perimeter of the egg was the word “dedushka,” which meant Grandfather. The egg opened like a box and inside the killer had found candy.

“Thank you, Dedushka,” he had said politely, looking up at his grandfather.

The old man bent over and planted a kiss on his grandson’s head. “So, you always have something of your Grandpa, yes?”

“Always.” The killer nodded and reached up to hug the old man.

One Christmas his grandfather gave the killer a little brass tree that opened the same way and was filled with treats, and on a Valentine’s Day one year he was presented with a box that had two entwined hearts on the lid. Each heart had an engraved inscription: “Dorogoy” which meant Dear and “Vnuk,” meaning Grandson.

The days at the park didn’t last too long. His grandfather passed away, leaving to the killer all his war medals, uniforms, a Red Army issue gun, and a Camillus M3 military knife that Grandpa had gotten by trading with an American soldier. Grandpa had treasured that knife because it was from America – the land of the free and the brave. The knife was manufactured by the Camillus Cutlery Company in New York around 1943 and measured six and a half by one inch. It had a black blade, a grip composed of leather washers cut with six grooves, and a metal tip on the end – a real beauty.

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