Who’s there?

As the time was approaching, my mind was racing.  What do I say?  How do I say it? How will we react? I began to slowly rock back and forth on the rocking chair my grand father used to sit at in his later years.  I was surrounded by loved ones but felt alone in my thoughts.  The mumbling of voices filled the air and I sat there not listening, staring out at the flowers my mother planted before her untimely death. 

My eyes closed and I’m back to when I was five, playing with my train set in front of the fire.  A smile sneaks up on my face.  I can almost smell the cigar smoke drift through the open windows from a familiar face.  I can hear the old, battered lawn mower break down once more and the usual coaxing that followed to resuscitate it one more time. 

The door bell rang.  An uneasy silence surrounded me as I slowly opened my eyes and brought my rocking to a halt.  A deep breath.  The drumming of my heartbeat began to double, a paradiddle followed.  I took a moment to stand and then began to take small, purposeful steps towards the door.  As the silence continued, each step echoed around the small hall way, reverberating off the uneven walls.

Another ring on the bell, I could see the outline of a figure standing behind the patterned glass.  My hand shook as I struggled to turn the key anticlockwise in the door.  I opened the door to a noise that wouldn’t be out of place in a horror movie from the 1960’s.  A smile welcomed me and a voice said, ‘Hello Jack’.