The Grandfather Owl

I was walking down the street one autumn night. It was dark and the cool wind made the tips of my ears red. The only reason I could see anything ahead of me was because of the streetlights. The dim yellow lights were occasionally flickering. I continue to walk down the sidewalk passing every nice house wishing one of them were mine. I imagined what my life could be like. I wished I could live in a mansion with my mother. I wished I could afford to give my mother the world. But I couldn't. It’s not like we couldn’t afford luxuries such as medication or television, we just couldn't afford to live easily like the people in these houses. These types of homes could only be had if you won the lottery. Then I saw something, a big barn owl. It was watching me. It was only at that moment that I realized I had stopped walking. I cautiously started walking again. Its eyes seemed to follow me, then its head, then its entire body. My grandfather used to tell me that barn owls were a good omen, a sign of something good was going to happen. I was never the type to be superstitious, but its gaze kept following me. It felt like my grandfather was watching me. It was looking at me the way he always did. I rounded the corner and reached my home. I reach into the flowerpot and pull out the key. I pushed the now unlocked door open and announced my presence so the sudden sounds of me entering the room wouldn't frighten my mother. She came down the stairs and greeted me with a smile and told me she had a surprise. I followed her as she led the way into the attic and there it was. A cardboard box sitting among many others. The moonlight shone through the small window and right onto the box in a way that made it look like a scene from a movie. I walked up to the string hanging from the ceiling and gave it a light tug. The light flicked on and lit the room. Well, sort of. It was very dim. I open the box and inside is a bunch of old trinkets. Then I saw it. The surprise. It was a ring. Not only a ring but an entire jewelry box full of them gems jewels coins rubies. Everything you would imagine to be in a pirate's treasure chest. I took it all and cashed it the next day. It totaled $50,000 cash. The value came mostly from the coins. One of which dated back to 1812! I rushed home to tell my mother and she was so happy that she immediately started crying, I couldn't blame her. She grew up very poor in a third world country. Until her father (my grandfather) took his daughter and moved to America. My mother was nothing like her father. My grandfather was a very religious and strict man who always treated people as if they were nothing. Except for me and my mother. He was a good man at heart, but he did some terrible things in his life. He stole from people and left everything he got in the attic for us to find. One last favor from my grandfather. I turned to look out the window, and what did I see? That same little barn owl. The one from last night. It once again felt like my grandfather was watching me, it almost looked like it was smiling. That afternoon I went to work. I was a daytime security guard at an arcade. It was just me and my friend Tommy working. He wasn't the type to talk much and only interacted with people if he absolutely had to. This meant that I ended up dealing with customers the most. My manager calls over the walkie talkie and says to go to the men's restroom because there was a child refusing to leave the arcade.

“Your turn” Tommy blurted out quickly.

“It’s always my turn.” I remarked.

Tommy smirked and I got up from my seat and headed over there. What do you know? There's my manager Bill cornering and a crying young boy no more than 8 years old. His face was red covered in snot and tears. I take him by the hand and lead him to the office where tommy was. This is a common occurrence, so I gave the kid a tissue box and told him to clean himself up and watch the TV in the back while waiting on his parents. Of course, his parents came and were furious about us “traumatizing her baby boy”. I feel something hit my leg as their all leaving and i look down. A stuffed toy. But not just any toy. An owl. A barn owl. What luck. I walk home and run into a man wearing a suit. He doesn't say a word except “Toby Bryant”. That's my name. How did he know my name? I still don't know. He handed me an envelope. It had an address written on the outside. 1234 made-up avenue. And a letter inside. The letter explained that my mother had a long-lost sister. My grandmother had taken one of the children and left my grandfather. My mother never knew her sister existed and was told her mother had passed away in an accident. My aunt had reached out and wanted us to come and live with her. Before the great depression when everyone had so much money, they don't know what to do with it. She never invested a dime in any big fancy companies, so she was incredibly well off. She had me and my mother move in immediately. My mother lived 4 years after that. And she lived an incredible luxurious life just like she deserved. I still live with my aunt seeing as she needed 24/7 care and have a lovely fiancé and two daughters. Oh, and yesterday guess what i saw? Two barn owls. One was old and worn out, the same one from all those years ago. And a younger one. It seemed like my mother and grandfather. Anyway, I guess my grandfather was right. They are good luck. I wonder what will happen next.

The End