The Philosophy Tales - Grandpa Will - By Ellese Elliott

The Philosophy Tales - Grandpa Will


One murky night, deep inside a village, Grandpa Will sat in his dusty old chair warming his socks by the fire.   It was a cold night, colder than usual.  The wind outside howled, the vines on the trees whipped the window pane and every so often you would hear a swarm of bats shrieking and flurry past the front door.  Grandpa Will was just nodding off, his mouth wide open when he heard a creak. His head turned in an instant. Grabbing his walking stick, embellished with skulls, he slowly crept toward where the sound came from, ready to strike.
He felt his heart beating in his mouth and his knees knocked together as he saw a tall shadow stretch around the corners of the living room. 
“Grandpa, I can’t sleep.” Little Lois had stumbled out of bed “Will you tell me one of your stories, please” she begged.  Grandpa Will let out a sigh of relief and sat back down in the same chair that he had for over one hundred years. A cloud of dust filled the air as he slumped down letting out a heaving cough “ergll cough cough cough erlg cough.” He placed his stick back down beside the fire and said in a coarse voice:
            “Come and sit by the fire Lois. I will tell you a story. It begins on a cold murky night, just like- this one.”

As she sat by the fire little Lois asked, “What’s that key?” pointing to around his neck.  Grandpa Will ignored Lois and continued...

In the early hours of darkness, in a far away land, the wind howled and hail assailed the slopes of Mount Kismet. Only lit by the light of the moon, one could see a crazed scientist hiking up the mountain dragging a huge sledge of wrangled scrap.  All the villagers who dwelt below Mount Kismet knew the story of the crazed scientist, who every night trawled the mountain dragging his supplies, but no one had ever spoken to him. Some said he was lonely, others just thought he was wild, but a word to the wise, he was in fact- a genius.

That night he stumbled, at the peak of the mountain into his cave in a mad frenzy.  His work was nearly complete!
 For seventy three years the scientist had been working on ‘Project Automaton’. This project spawned out of a fateful night when wife Amelia, whilst searching for supplies for her husband, tripped and plummeted from Mount Kismet. That night she gave up her ghost and with it went the scientist’s sanity.

He had captured her ghost in a small, peculiar jar that bared an ancient symbol, the Ouroborus; The ‘eternal return’.          
The scientist believed that if he built a machine that replicated his wife he could breathe her ghost into the machine and she would come back to life.
 Tonight he added the last part to his machine.
 It was ready!
 Many scientists before him had laughed, “How stupid” they would say, “Every one knows you can’t bring a robot to life” and “Every one knows there is no such things as ghosts.” But this was the moment and he was about to find out if you can bring a machine to life.

He took the peculiar looking jar from the shelf and unscrewed the top. A whiff of perfume filled his nostrils. It was her.
 He locked his lips around the jar and he inhaled deeply inward, sucking every last drop of her ghost out of the jar. For a moment his heart felt warm. He then placed his lips over the machines and breathed out so hard he collapsed to the ground.

Feeling nostalgic from the perfume and a little light headed he pulled himself up and opened his eyes.
“And what do you think he saw?” Grandpa Will asked.
Little Lois shrugged.
The machine lay down in the same position as before and the ghost floated out of the cave towards the skies.
The scientist frantically grabbed the jar and ran out onto the mountains. He must catch her. The hail was hitting hard, the conditions were slippery. “Amelia” he shouted “Come back, come back!”
He jumped over great heights defying death over and over. How could he have been wrong, why didn’t she come back? He approached the very top of the mountain and he had her ghost in sight. He leaned over the edge, desperately reaching out.

Then the rocks became unsteady from underneath his feet and the scientist tumbled down Mount Kismet rolling and bashing into rock after rock, continuously being beaten by the hail.
From the ground he gazed up he gave one last whimper as he saw her ghost float into space and cried a single tear.
All that he had hoped for, worked for and longed for had evaporated. The crazed scientist felt beaten and his heart broken. He looked down and saw that was not the only thing broken. 
Protruding from the torn flesh was not blood covered bone, but sparks of electricity and twisted metal. He was a robot.
After all this time, was what he had tried to prove in front of him? Was he the real ghost in the machine?
The hail turned to rain.

By this time little Lois had fallen sound asleep; sure enough dreaming of her own stories she will one day tell to her grandchildren. Grandpa Will pulled a blanket over her shoulders and kissed her on the head. Grabbing his stick he walked wearily over to the far side of the room where he unveiled a box bearing a familiar symbol- the ouroboros. He removed the key from around his neck and after many years passed opened the box. As he peaked inside, a tiny beam of light sat in the box, it was her  Grandpa Will opened a window and uttered the words “I love you”- before softly blowing the last part of Amelia’s ghost into the sky.
 He cried a single tear and then he finally fell asleep.

The End 

By Ellese Elliott

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