“One day the wolf met a fox during its long journey. The fox was a trickster and known for its cunning nature. So, when the wolf arrived in its territory, only mischief was reflected within its amber eyes. In an open field the fox asked the wolf-.”

“Wyatt!”

“The fox asked the wolf “why are you here?” To which the wolf responded, “I have no home and I am lost.””

“Wyatt, where are you?”

“The fox grinned when he heard this. Opening his deceitful marrow again he said, “Then why not look up at the moon and wish for a home.” The wolf confused by these words just stared at the fox, so the fox continued “If you wish upon the moon when it is full and howl with all your heart, your wish will come true.”

“Wyatt, I am not mad, so just come out!”

“For the love of, I am in the backyard! Now, where was I? The wolf was overjoyed that her wish could be made possible. Without even considering the validity of the fox’s words the wolf left to make her wish come true.”

“There you are! Wyatt, what are you doing?” The elderly voice, that was not all to far from where I was laying, asked a question she knew the answer to. I am laying on my back with a book in hand. There are only so many possibilities to what I could be doing. She probably meant to ask why I am here and not inside.

“I am photosynthesizing.” It wasn’t true, but I do envy the way plants live their lives. Effortless and peaceful. A life where food was literally provided by the sun and your sole responsibility was to exist.

Then suddenly my entire world was engulfed in water. My clothes, hair, and even the book I was just previously reading were completely drenched.

“Considered yourself sprayed with weed killer. Now come on, I need help to finish unpacking your belongings.” Rolling off my back and wiping the droplets of water from my eyes, I stared at the source of my disrupted peace. This agent of chaos before me is my grandmother.

She is a lovely older woman with long braided grey hair. Wearing a knitted sweater, no matter the weather, and her stature could not be considered tall. Grandmother’s most notable feature is her explosive temper. I haven’t known her for very long and have already deduced that pissing her off always ends badly for me. Exhibit A: Currently within her right hand is a water hose. Exhibit B: The entire time I have been thinking and staring daggers at her, she has continued to douse me with water.

You know if it wasn’t so hot outside, I would probably catch a cold. I suddenly sneeze. Scratch that, if I die from hypothermia, I hope you get charged with manslaughter you old harpy.

“So, are you going to come inside, or do you just enjoy being soaked?” Pinching the nozzle of the hose to stop the water, grandmother motioned with her hands toward the house. I think the hint was to come inside.

“It was getting too hot outside anyway.” Picking up my now ruined book, I reluctantly walked toward the back porch.

Before I entered through the sliding door I turned towards the old woman.

“Did you really need to soak me with a hose?”  My voice sounded more quizzical than frustrated.

“No.” Was her only response before she opened the sliding door and walked inside the house with a grin painted on her face.

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I think she is just happy to have someone to harass. It must be tough being bored and old.

Slowly walking inside, I am shaken by the sudden chill that engulfs my body. Most likely from the air conditioning. If my body wasn’t soaking wet, I would probably appreciate the gust of cold wind more on such a scorching day.

Entering inside my future home, my eyes are consumed by Native American… well everything. Wallpaper based on Native American stories on the walls. Totems of gods and religious figures fixed on shelves. Dreamcatchers and tribal masks, of various sizes and shapes, were hung above from every window and door. In fact, my head just barely dodged from smacking into seven of the blasted things when I entered from the back porch. Lastly, arrowheads were littered everywhere. On counters, tables, and even on the floor.

It looked like a total mess.

 “Make sure not to get any of that water on my carpet!” Whose fault would it be if I did.

Unlike most, I decide to learn from my mistakes and not piss her off again. Passing through the kitchen, I throw the book I was reading into the garbage. It was a story book I found on one the shelves in the house. If grandma didn’t mind getting it wet, she shouldn’t mind me throwing it away.

Moving my body while soaked is difficult. The moisture is making my clothes stick to my body. Its uncomfortable in all the wrong areas.

As I make my way up the stairs leading to my room, I notice my grandma in the living room. She’s reclining in her chair watching one of her old westerns. I’ve seen the old woman watch that one before, so I guess it’s her favorite. Watching the relaxing elder fills me with guilt.

The complex feeling comes from the fact that she must be exhausted from the long trip. The flight from California to Illinois is not short after all. Making her worry when she’s this tired, as her grandson I feel that its unforgivable. In addition to making her unpack my belonging by herself while I just laze around in the backyard. I really must be the scum of the earth.

Wait a second!

With a sudden revelation, I run up the remaining stairs toward the extra room grandma is lending me while I stay with her. It’s the room at the end of the hallway. When I reach the room, I put my hand on the doorframe and gaze inside bewildered. The reason is simple. I had already unpacked my stuff, when we landed yesterday. I didn’t have much with me anyway, so it didn’t take long. Just some clothes and one picture. Being finished so quickly is part of the reason I was reading in the backyard today.

So, then why? Actually, a better question would be where. Where did these extra boxes come from?

Hesitantly, I grab the box cutter I used yesterday off the floor. In one practiced motion, I release the closest box to me from its tape restraints. Opening the box, I felt my blood freeze. Then, it started to boil when I held a single dangling dreamcatcher in my hand.

“GRANDMA!” A scream escaped from my mouth before I even realized it.

Without waiting for a response to my enraged bellow, I sprint down the stairs and make my way towards the living room.

“Hey, hey! What did I say about getting my carpet wet!” Her scolding made me realize that I still haven’t changed clothes. I am still soaking wet. My clothes are dripping droplets of water onto the sand colored carpet.

“I don’t care about your carpet! Why are there boxes filled with your native nonsense in my room?”

“Is this how young people talk to their grandparents these days? Yeesh! The future looks bleak.”

“Grandma!” I didn’t need her dodging the question.

“The boxes are my welcoming gift to you. I thought you needed something to spice up your barren room. When I checked it this morning, it looked boring. Like it was missing something.”

“I’m returning this gift, thank you.”

“Why? I think it’ll make your room cuter.”

“How are those creepy masks cute?”

“Because they remind me of my heritage. You shouldn’t be so disrespectful.” After saying that, grandma gave me a stern glare. The meaning was clear, don’t push it brat. Normally this is where the conversation would end if there wasn’t one issue with what she just said.

“You are, without a doubt, one-hundred percent Irish! What heritage are you talking about?”

“Heritage is matter of perspective!” This is false.

“If you are going to make such fuss about it, you can use your mother’s decorations from when she was here. She liked unicorns by the way.”

My mind then became filled with a room drowning in pink. Pink bedsheets, pink walls, and pink curtains all marked with a plethora of horned equestrian beasts. My stomach performed a backflip with the mental image.

“C-can’t I just leave the room as it is now.” I wanted to beg on my hands and knees to prevent from experiencing either nightmare.

“The cutest thing is that you actually believe that you have a choice. Now pick one.”

Demon. This woman is a demon.

Then I let out a sneeze.  I think I might’ve caught a cold.