A chip off the old block

A short story by Elaine Hastings

- Elaine Hastings

Maybe it wasn't the best idea to have coffee when his heart was already racing, but Luke picked one up from the kiosk in the car park out of habit. When the barista asked him how he was, he almost spilled his guts, but no one wants to know how you really are.

She just wanted him to say fine so she could get on with her day. Luke needed to get it off his chest though. That's why he was here - to talk to Grandpa.

Skylarks chirped in the wooded area to his left as he trudged up the hill. No matter his problem, Grandpa was always there for him. The man had raised him after all, taught him how to ride a bike, use a razor and check the oil in his car. He would sit with Grandpa for a while and everything would become clear.

At the brow of the hill, Luke stopped in his tracks. A bike leaned against Grandpa's bench. An open packet of crisps sat on the armrest - its contents scattered on the ground. And stretched across the seat, muddy trainers and all, lay a teenage boy.

"Oi!" Luke called. "Can't you see that's a memorial bench? Get your feet off!"

The yob jerked upright and pulled out his earphones. "Sorry, I was just..."

"What?"

The boy sprang into action, scooping up crisps. "I didn't mean to be disrespectful. I'm here because... that's my dad." He jerked a thumb towards the brass plaque.

What? Grandpa had another child? This teenager? Surely not.

Noticing his confusion, the boy added, "Well, he's not literally my dad - the dates are wrong but that's my dad's name."

Luke stood scowling, waiting for him to elaborate. "That's all I know about him." The teen sat back on the bench with a sigh. Luke narrowed his eyes. The kid wasn't leaving.

Couldn't he take a hint? As the boy shuffled along the bench, Grandpa's plaque caught the light.