The Shed---------- Guy

The Shed

A Short Story by Richard Tanner

I was only six years old when my grandfather died. It was on my birthday and as I’ve been told I was the last one to see him. As a kid I couldn’t quite understand all the things that had happened, it didn’t bother me really. Life continued on, just without grandpa there. I still watched TV but no one was there to explain baseball to me. I still came home from school everyday at three, but I no longer got to hear stories about grandpa’s childhood. The only thing that really made me notice that he would never bee back was his work shed. Everyday he was there for hours. I never got to go in; the only thing I could see in that shed was the single light bulb that swung back and forth in the small window above the door. Now the shed was dark… it was always dark.

The light stayed off for years, the building grew older but always seemed sturdy. The grass and bushes almost overtook it, but I was the only one who noticed, or cared. My parents would always look passed the shed and if they spoke of it at all it was in a hurried whisper.

My dad wanted to have it torn down, but my mother refused. She would just say that it was pointless and left it at that. “It’s just a shed, why can’t we use it like grandpa used to?” I remember asking that question to my parents once in my childish ignorance.

My mother shook me and yelled, “Don’t you ever go near there, do you hear me? Don’t you ever go near it!” I nodded frantically; all I wanted was for her to let me go. I could feel her nails digging into my skin. After I finally pulled my arms free I ran to my room, tears in my eyes. She never apologized to me and I never so much as mentioned the shed again.

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