Creaky House II

Greta held Sarah’s sneaker against the grinding wheel, then strained, griped and groaned her way to the foot pedal. Having done so, she pumped at the pedal with a furious determination. And before she knew it, there was a whole the size of a silver dollar on the sole of Sarah’s royal red sneaker.

Sarah looked at Greta through the hole and grinned.

“Got the gum off,” said Greta.

“Oh, that’s just great!” said Sarah. “How can I go home with one sneaker. My mom’s gonna kill me!”

“OK. You take mine,” said Greta. “I’ll wear my garden boots.”

”You sure?” said Sarah.

“Sure," said Greta. “I owe you. So I‘ll just have to smash up my piggy bank again and count out a pair of sneakers worth of money. Now, give me your other sneaker. I’ll put them both in the trash.”

Having done that, Greta grabbed her grave-sweeping apprentice by the hand and led her out the door and into the cemetery.

***

Great Aunt Great stood all of three feet, two inches tall in her stocking feet. Which was the case as she stood transfixed at the goings on in the toolshed.

This morning she had woken in her old bedroom, as if from a dream, and was not quite sure if this was real or was still the dream.

Never having seen red sneakers before, Great Aunt Greta was mesmerized as she gazed into the trash can.

“Pretty,” she said.

She lifted the sneaker with the hole and held it up to the light coming through the shed’s window.

“No one will know it’s there,” mused Aunt Greta. “Except me, of course."

She sat on the stool at the grinding wheel and put the sneakers on. Twisting each foot this way and that, for a better perspective. Great Aunt Greta was not in the habit of wearing other people’s things, but she had become quite smitten with Sarah’s sneakers and, besides, she couldn’t seem to find her own shoes this morning.

As a matter of fact, she couldn’t seem to find many of the things that were in her bedroom the night she fell into a deep, dreamy sleep. Was it last night? Last week? She couldn’t remember. The only certain thing was that she was awake now, and no one seemed to notice. But she would make them notice. She was certain.

“Quite lovely,” she said, looking down at the sneakers “Now, if I only had her pretty blue stockings, my day would be perfect.”

But the day wasn’t over. And Great Aunt Greta decided to follow in the girl’s footsteps. Leaving an odd set of foot prints on the old dusty shed floor, as she made her way out of the shed and into the cemetery.