The Mysterious Attic
My grandfather’s attic was the most mysterious area in my young childhood.
I likened myself to a young sleuth, thanks to Encyclopedia Brown. Combine that with the fact that my cousins and I had been forbidden to explore it, and I had to see what was hiding in that attic!
The next time my PaPa Roy took a nap, and I was at his house, I made my way up the steps. The house was old and the stairs creaked, but I stepped on the edge near the wall. That made the noise less. Still, I think I held my breath the entire way up that flight of stairs.
At the top of the stairs, I could see three rooms. Behind door number one I dubbed “Grandma’s Room.” My grandmother had passed away when I was a year old, so I didn’t remember her. My mom always said I was her favorite grandchild because I would sit still and let her read to me. There was a bed and a closet that had a couple of dresses hanging in it. The most interesting thing in this room was a large chest filled to the brim with old pictures. I looked at these for a little bit then moved on to door number two.
This I dubbed the kids’ room. I’m not sure why. It only contained a large metal bed and an empty dresser and closet. It didn’t take long before I moved on to door number three.
Door three turned out to be filled with the jewels I had been certain were hidden in this mysterious attic. Whereas the other rooms had been square, this one was long and housed some toys from the time my mother and her five siblings were children. I spent some time gingerly exploring the toys, but then I saw the books!
I looked through them, reading the titles and the inscriptions inside the front covers. Many of them had been presents for Christmases and birthdays. I had to stop myself from starting to read one. I would surely be caught if I got lost in a book.
I snuck back downstairs to find my PaPa still napping on the couch.
It was as if I had just returned from Narnia.