Morrison & Mr Moore by Michael Hyde

Author:Michael Hyde [Hyde, Michael]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: in case of emergency press
Published: 2021-08-31T14:00:00+00:00

‘Grandma’

I think his name was Kevin. He worked on building sites, rough hands so tough you thought he could hammer nails with them. His face was rough-hewn, like a table that had been hacked out of a fallen tree. He could have been forty or sixty, very, very few words with a voice like mixing concrete.

It was him who turned up at my grandmother’s front door one Saturday morning. It was Winter as I remember it. Grandma peered from behind her snibbed wire door. “Yes?” she said.

“I’m Kevin. I’m a friend of Cheryl, your daughter.”

“Oh, yes,” Grandma said, opening her door and stepping outside. That’s when she saw me, holding Kevin’s hand, blinking up at her.

“Sorry about this but thought it would be best if I brought Norman here.”

Grandma tilted her head, locked her gimlet eyes on Kevin and said, “Go on.”

Kevin shuffled around on the doorstep and rubbed at his stubbled face. “Well your daughter isn’t the best at the moment. Going through a bit of a bad trot.”

Grandma made a sound that was meant to indicate a lot of things, none of them very nice. “Run out of booze and drugs has she?!”

Kevin wasn’t used to being taken on face-to-face. “Well, um, think it’s more than that, missus.”

Grandma finally looked down at me. It was like two strangers sizing each other up. Which we were. The Winter’s sun had come out and I squinted up at her. Then she smiled at me. I don’t think I’d ever seen a smile like that. Maybe others had. Maybe it was a normal smile. To me I felt like I’d been picked up and held close to a beating heart.

Kevin went to say something, but Grandma saved him the trouble. “Little Norman needs a roof over his head. I get it. Well he’ll get one here. He’s my flesh and blood.” She reached out and took my hand, drawing me to her side. “But you can tell my daughter that she’s not welcome. Unless she’s done something about her ruined life. I’m not having her coming and going. If little Normie is with me, then he’s with me. No ifs or buts.”

Kevin nodded. “I’ll let her know.” He turned to leave, probably happy to escape the looks and words of Grandma. Halfway to the front gate, he stopped and came back. He placed his huge hand on my head, smiled and said, “See you, Norman. Sorry this happened.” Then, “You’re a good kid. Wish it coulda been different.”

Grandma and me watched as he drove away in his battered ute, the sun shining full bore on what was to be my new home. My grandmother kneeled down and hugged me. “Come on Norman. Let’s see what we’ve got to eat. You look like you could do with a good feed.” As we walked inside she murmured, “So they still call you Norman… pity we can’t change that.”

I don’t know whether she remembers saying that, but she got her wish.

It must have been hard for Kevin to turn up with me and do that.

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