Passing Time

When I walked in, Grandpa was sitting in his chair, looking out of the window as usual.
He didn’t turn around straight away. It was as if he had to rein in his vision from some far away place before he could use it elsewhere.
“I’ve brought some CD’s with me that mum got from the library,” I said.
Grandpa stared at me for a moment. Half of my face was reflected in his glasses.
“William,” he croaked gently. “I want to show you something.”
I pretended not to hear him.
“I’ll just put them here,” I said, clearing some things off his table.
I picked up his tape player and unplugged it from the socket. It reminded me of the ones you see in 80’s cop films, where they would sit a suspect down at a desk in a smoky little room with nothing but a tape recorder.
I plugged in the stereo that Mum had brought round on the weekend. I had tried to explain to her how to set it up, but she acted like I was telling her how to write a computer program.
“Here,” whispered Grandpa, his chubby fingers tapping me on the shoulder.
I sat on the bed and flicked through the photos, attempting to feign surprise when I saw the ones of me playing naked in our paddling pool.
When I was finished, I handed them back and he put the album in his lap.
“1994,” he said, plodding a finger on it. “You were at nursery then.”
“Yeah, I know,” I replied. “Listen Grandpa, can I show you the-”
“How times have changed,” he breathed and turned back towards the window.
There was a knock at the door. It was Sue with the trolley.
“Tea?” she asked, opening the door halfway. “Or juice?”
“No thanks,” I said, glancing at Grandpa. “I think I’m going to go.”
I followed her out into the hallway. “If he asks, can you show him how to put on a CD? I’ve left them on the side there.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” she replied, giving me a wink. It made me blush.
The next week, I came round after school and could see that the stereo had not been used. The pile of CD’s remained where I had left them and the tape player had been plugged back in.
There was a cassette box open on the table. It was an Agatha Christie story. Mum and Dad used to buy Grandpa detective novels every year for Christmas, until his eyesight got too bad to read them.
Seeing the tape deck next to the stereo made me think that Grandpa was right about things changing. I guess it’s what he thought about most of the time when he stared out of the window.
I sat down on the bed and waited patiently for him to disengage with his thoughts. When his eyes finally came to rest on mine, I noticed that their colour matched the blue of the sky outside.
“Hey Grandpa,” I said, hoping to distract him from reaching for the photos. “I’m going to take the tape player away today. You don’t need it anymore.”
I hoped he would react, but he just resumed a medium range stare.
“It’s your birthday soon,” he whispered, the words tumbling gently from his mouth.
“Yeah, it is,” I replied, a little startled.
“What do you want?”
“Well, I thought about asking for some speakers and maybe a new phone, but…” My voice trailed off. I felt stupid. I wasn’t even sure if he had seen a mobile phone before.
I tried to change the subject. “So shall I…” But I couldn’t finish that sentence either. I couldn't think of anything else to say, so we sat in silence.
The next week, Mum said that we might as well give up on the CD player and take it to a charity shop as Grandpa was never going to use it.
I found out from Sue that there was a lady in the home whose granddaughter was converting all her vinyl to disc. I ended up swapping the stereo for her record player. It’s old, but I like it.
Maybe I'll show it to Grandpa and see what he thinks.