It was early on Saturday morning and Stella Bennett was sitting in front of the television watching the end of a Clint Eastwood movie called “Gran Torino.” Even at her age, Stella thought the aging actor a pretty hot looking man. But then again, she still remembered the young Clint, with his six shooters strapped to his hip, riding in on his gray horse to save the day for some beautiful young woman. There’d been plenty of times where she’d wished to exchange places with the actress, kick her out of the barn so she could go in and roll around in the hay with the handsome leading man.

Ahh, the good old days, she thought. But like herself, Clint wasn’t young anymore, and he didn’t often get to catch and keep the hot young actress, but he could still bring a tear to Stella’s eye. She sniffled and took a sip of coffee as Clint gave up his life to save a couple young kids who lived next door, kids he could hardly stand to look at only a few weeks earlier.

I wonder if I could ever do something like that, she thought. Give up my life for someone young and just getting started with theirs. She sniffled again when it came time for Clint's funeral. Pretty deep stuff, she thought, but I’d probably freeze at the last second and never be able to carry through. That’s why this kind of thing only happened in the movies.

“Oh, Stella,” she said, “you old fool. Almost seventy years old and you’re sitting here blubbering like a baby over a sad movie. Get your old butt up off this chair and get moving.”

She was taking her grandson, Joshua, to the Veterans Day Parade today and she still had a lot to do before she could get out of the door. Chugging the last of her now cold coffee, she rocked toward the front of her recliner and slowly pushed to her feet.

“Good Lord,” she said as her aching bones and joints popped and creaked, “I think I have lift off.”

But now the problem was walking. It took at least thirty minutes in the morning to loosen everything up before she had a chance in hell of making it out of the house. The coffee tended to help some, even if only by making her have to walk to the bathroom every five minutes.

Once in the kitchen, she rinsed out her coffee cup and studied the assorted bottles of pain killers and muscle relaxants sitting by the sink. It was tempting to pop a couple of Vicodin so she wouldn’t hurt quite so bad, but her wrinkled and liver-spotted hand reached out to grab the bottle of Naproxen instead.

She tried to twist the cap off, but her hands were stiff and wouldn’t cooperate. Holding the bottle up to the light she adjusted her glasses and tried to read the directions.

“Push down and twist.” Well hell, she thought. I thought that’s what I was doing.

This time she pressed her palm into the lid and turned. “Damn childproof lids.”

The directions on the bottle said to take two tablets every twelve hours. Stella took three.

With her joints still aching and popping, she walked into the bedroom and pulled out a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt. It was fairly normal these days to keep her gaze fixed toward the floor as she got dressed in the morning. She didn’t want to risk looking in the mirror and give an old lady a heart attack. Who the hell wanted to see saggy old breasts, or a belly doing its best to drop down and rest on top of her thighs? She didn’t even want to get into the cellulite fighting for rights over those thighs. She wondered what Clint thought about this getting old stuff, wondered if he got as disgusted with his body as she did with hers.

After getting dressed, Stella walked into the bathroom and picked up her toothbrush. Might as well get it over with, she thought, looking up to see short gray hair sticking straight up in the air from sleeping, saggy jowls, and a wattle on her neck. About the only thing still recognizable were her bright green eyes—but even then, she had to ignore the heavy lines around those eyes; laughter lines, her daughter called them. It didn’t really matter how they got there, laughing or from the sun, it was still a regular roadmap on her face, a map leading to nowhere.

For a second, Stella debated whether to wear any makeup or not. A touch of mascara helped a little to brighten her eyes, but pancake or powder tended to get stuck in the cracks, making her look like a melting waxwork by the end of the day. She decided to go all natural today. Wouldn’t want to scare poor Joshua while they were out. It only took a second to wet a comb and run it through her wild hair. Just a touch of color on her lips and she was ready.

Maybe one more trip to the bathroom first, she thought. Wouldn’t want to get caught out on the street with nowhere to go. Joshua wouldn’t be happy if he missed any of the horses going by while she was busy trying to find a toilet. A love of horses was the one thing she really had in common with her grandson. When she’d been Joshua’s age, her family had all called her horsey. Now it was Joshua who was called horsey.

By the time she actually got out to her car, Stella was moving pretty well. It was just first thing in the morning that tended to bother her. She quickly found the right key in the jumbled up mess on her key ring and opened the door to her dark blue Ford Taurus. Might not be the Torino Clint drove around in, but her little Taurus was a pretty fine running automobile. It got the job done anyway, taking Stella to the grocery store and back home again. It was about all she did anymore, unless Joshua needed to be taken somewhere and his mom and dad were both busy.

Stella smiled as she pulled into the drive of her daughter’s house. Joshua and Donna were already standing out in the yard, impatiently waiting—well Joshua was impatient. Donna was busy trying to hold him down to run a comb through his hair. He looked pretty sharp all duded up in his miniature cowboy outfit, washed out blue jeans, a green western shirt with embroidered ponies on the left front shoulder, black cowboy boots, and of course what no real cowboy would be caught dead without, a black cowboy hat, perhaps pushed a tad bit too far back, but Donna had been in a hurry to get the combing done and the hat back into place before her little man started to pitch a fit.

“Nana, Nana,” he called out to Stella when she opened the door to her car. “Can I ride the ‘onies, Nana? Can I, can I? Gonna see the ‘onies, right? Lot’s ‘n lot’s of ‘onies?”

Stella laughed, still remembering when she was Joshua’s age and asking anyone and everyone who had a horse if she could ride it. She knew the only reason Joshua would tolerate moving at a snail’s pace today was that he’d get to see lots and lots of ponies in the parade.

“Thanks, Mom,” Donna said, “for taking him today. John got called in at the last minute and I was already scheduled to work. Josh would’ve been heartbroken not to go.”

“No problem. I’m happy to take him. Maybe we’ll go by the barn afterward and he can plug around on Old Jess.”

Jess was an ancient Quarter Horse gelding that used to be Stella’s barrel racing champion. The two of them had grown old together, Jess just as happy as Stella these days not to go much faster than a slow walk. Perfect for Joshua though. He loved to sit up on that old swayed back and pretend he was chasing down a herd of runaway cattle. It didn’t bother Josh in the slightest when Old Jess had to stop for a bite or two of grass before moving on to the next spot. When her grandson was old enough, Stella planned to get him a much younger pony to learn to ride on. Maybe she’d even get another horse for herself and the two of them could ride in the parades together. It was something for her to look forward to.

Joshua chattered non stop all the way uptown, not slowing down for a second as Stella hunted for a place to park. She heard all about the finger painting at preschool last week, as well as all the juicy details about his mom and dad’s last argument. She had to cover her mouth to keep herself from smiling, knowing Donna would have been mortified to have all her dirty laundry hung outside for everyone to see. When she knew for certain she could hold a straight face, she turned to Joshua.

“Umm, sweetie, maybe you shouldn’t tell anyone else but Nana about Mommy and Daddy’s argument, okay? It’ll be our own special secret, what do you say?”

His bright blue eyes widened as he looked over from his car seat. “Okay, Nana.” He looked out the window. “Are we almos’ there yet? Are we? I wanna see the ‘onies.”

“Yep,” she answered, amazed how fast a three-year-old could switch gears. “Let Nana get the car parked first, okay? We might have to walk a ways. Probably should have started out a little earlier. You up for a little walk, partner?”

“Yeah, yeah! Can we ride the ‘onies when we get there? Can we, can we?”

“Maybe later. I thought we’d have some lunch after the parade and then go ride Old Jess. How does that sound to ya?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah! Gonna ride Ol’ Jess.”

Stella had to struggle some with her hands trying to get Josh out of his car seat. Of course he wasn’t helping much by wiggling this way and that while trying to slip the harness. Then she had to pin him against the back of the car with her hip while she pulled out her lawn chair, too afraid he might try to jump out into traffic if she left him free for a second. Finally they had everything together and Stella tucked her lightweight lawn chair up under her armpit, holding onto Josh’s hand as they started up the sidewalk.

They were supposed to meet one of Stella’s friends out in front of Bart's Market, but it appeared to be where everyone else in town was planning to meet as well. It wasn’t easy trying to keep hold of her squirming grandson and not drop the chair as she weaved around the growing crowd of people. There wasn’t an open spot close to the market, but Stella was fairly certain Debbie could still find them just fifty or so feet up the street.

“Josh, sweetie, Nana’s going to set up her chair now. You stand right here until I get finished, okay? Don’t run off.”

“‘Kay, Nana. I won’t. Is the ‘onies comin’ here? Will they come right here?”

“Yep, they’ll walk right past us.”

“When? How long? How long now?”

“Won’t be long.”

A loud siren went off and all the kids standing around jumped for the curb.

“See, sweetie, the parade is just about to start. That’s probably the fire truck getting ready to lead the way.”

“Yeah, yeah. Can I sit there, Nana? Can I, with the other kids?”

Stella looked up and down the street for her friend. “Come on, Debbie, you’re gonna miss it.”

“Nana, can I?”

“Can you what, sweetie?”

“Sit there, with the rest of the kids.”

Stella frowned, not sure she wanted Joshua that far away. But the only alternative would be to sit down on the curb with him and she didn’t think her back would take the punishment. “Okay, Josh, but you sit right in front of Nana, okay? You don’t run out for candy unless I say you can. Can you do that?”

It was a useless question. Joshua was already at the curb, squeezing in between two other boys about his same age. She relaxed some when he looked back, a huge smile turning up the corners of his mouth, his eyes shining so bright they sparkled. When he looked this happy it was hard to refuse him anything. What the hell, she thought. That’s what grandma’s are for, spoiling the grandkids. Let mom and dad take care of any discipline problems. She’d already raised hers.

The sirens wailed again and a police car slowly began to head their way. Not far behind came the fire truck with three firemen and a spotted Dalmatian sitting on top. Joshua started to stand up and Stella had to yell out. “Sit down, Joshua.”

He looked back and she could tell he hadn’t heard a word.

“Joshua,” she said a little louder, “I said to sit down.”

“Look, Nana, look. The dog. Can I pet him, Nana? Please?”

“No, baby, they have to keep going. Sit down and watch the rest. Look, a float is coming next. Isn’t it pretty?”

His attention was already back on the parade and Stella could sit back and relax for a few minutes. The parade was almost half over when she finally caught sight of her friend on the opposite side of the street. Debbie was packing her own lawn chair and trying to weave around all the people. When Stella caught her eye, Debbie smiled and waved. She’d have to wait for the next float to go by before she could cross the street.

Finally Debbie got across and Stella stood up to greet her. “What happened,” she asked. “You almost missed it all.”

“Gawd,” she said, pulling Stella in for a quick hug. “It’s lucky I made it at all. Phone wouldn’t stop ringing and I had to move Lee’s truck to get my car out. I just about didn’t come, but I figured you’d be waiting. How’s it been so far?”

"Oh, you know, it’s a parade. But Joshua’s having a great time. You made it in time for the horses anyway. That’s the best part.”

Debbie used to go with Stella when she hit the rodeos. They’d been good friends for most of their lives. Debbie never did the barrel racing, but she sure could sit a horse back in her younger years.

Debbie was just getting her lawn chair set up beside Stella’s when they heard a scream from somewhere up the road. A little trickle of unease slid through Stella’s mind. She stood, trying to get a look, but there were far too many people in the way.

“Nana, look, the ‘onies are comin’. Come on, come on, look.”

Joshua stood up and took a step out into the street.

“No, Joshua, you get back here.”

But he wasn’t listening. Stella could see whatever was going on up the street had him captivated. More screams were heard, but this time she knew something must be wrong.

“Joshua, come back here! Now! You listen to Nana.”

He wasn’t hearing anything. Stella’s heart dropped when he took a couple more steps out into the street. She knew he wasn’t trying to disobey, he was just going with the rest of the kids, trying to see what was going on.

“Stella,” Debbie called, “There’s a runaway wagon, two Draft horses pulling. Gotta get the kids out of the way.”

Debbie was much taller than Stella. She could see over the heads of a lot of those standing around.

“Josh! Josh! You get back here. Right now!”

She could hear the noise now, even if she couldn’t see anything yet. People screaming, running. But they were all running towards Stella and she couldn’t get through.

“Josh, Joshua.” Oh God, please help me.

It was like the world slowed down to a snail's crawl. Joshua was standing alone, almost in the middle of the street, people scattering like ants, running off in every direction. Stella looked up the street and saw two huge, dark bay Drafts pulling a covered wagon. No driver and the horses were running panicked.

So close, she thought. I won’t make it.

Joshua looked back and she could see the fear in his eyes. He was too scared now to move.

“Dear Jesus, please help me.”

Stella ran. She didn’t take her eyes off her grandson in his little black cowboy boots and his black cowboy hat. Those bright blue eyes opened so wide as he reached out to her.

Stella felt her fingers close on his pretty western shirt, and then she whirled, lifting him in an arch over her own body, still praying for help when she let him go. Stella couldn’t see his eyes anymore, but she saw his tiny body flying through the air. He’s okay, she thought, just as the horse on the right hit her dead center in the chest.

Stella didn’t feel anything. She knew it was bad by the sound of the crowd, but she didn’t feel any pain. She could hear people shouting, some saying to get back as others called for an ambulance.

Voices, so many voices and all she wanted to hear was the one.

“Nana, I want my Nana.” He was crying. “Nana, Nana.”

He was crying, but Stella knew her grandson was alive and that was all that mattered. The horses had missed him. It’s okay, baby, she wanted to say. Don’t cry.

Nana’s going to sleep for a little while, then you and I will go ride Old Jess. Everything will be okay.

The End

Imprint

Publication Date: 12-28-2009

All Rights Reserved

Dedication:
To all grandmothers out there who show such dedication to their grandchildren. You are an inspiration to all mothers. If I were given only a portion of your unselfish spirit, I know I'd be a much better mother for it. Only through a child's eyes do we catch the sparkle of God's love shining back.