A Visit to Grandmother
A Visit to Grandmother by William Melvin Kelley
Chig knew something was wrong the instant his father kissed her. He had always known his father to be the warmest of men, a man so kind that when people ventured timidly into his office, it took only a few words from him to make them relax, and even laugh. Doctor Charles Dunford cared about people.
But when he had bent to kiss the old lady’s face, something new and almost ugly had come into his eyes: fear, uncertainty, sadness, and perhaps even hatred.
Ten days before in New York, Chig’s father had decided suddenly he wanted to go to Nashville to attend his college class reunion, twenty years out. Both Chig’s brother and sister, Peter and Connie, were packing for camp and besides they were too young for such and affair. But Chig was seventeen, had nothing to do that summer, and his father asked if he would like to go along. His father had given him additional reasons: “All my running buddies got their diplomas and were snapped up by them crafty young gals, and had kids within a year- now all those kids, some of them gals, are your age.”
The reunion had lasted a week. As they packed for home, his father, in a far too offhand way, had suggested they visit Chig’s grandmother. “We might as well drop in on her and my brother’s.”
So, instead of going north, they just had gone farther south, had just entered her house. And Chig had a suspicion now that the reunion had only been an excuse to drive south, that his father had been heading to this house all the time.
His father had never talked much about his family, with the exception of his brother, GL, who seemed part con man, part practical joker and part Don Juan; he had spoken of GL with the kind of indulgence he would have shown a cute, but ill-behaved and potentially dangerous, five-year-old.
Chig’s father had left home when he was fifteen. When asked why, he would answer: “I wanted to go to school. They didn’t have a Negro high school at home, so I went up to
Chig knew something was wrong the instant his father kissed her. He had always known his father to be the warmest of men, a man so kind that when people ventured timidly into his office, it took only a few words from him to make them relax, and even laugh. Doctor Charles Dunford cared about people.
But when he had bent to kiss the old lady’s face, something new and almost ugly had come into his eyes: fear, uncertainty, sadness, and perhaps even hatred.
Ten days before in New York, Chig’s father had decided suddenly he wanted to go to Nashville to attend his college class reunion, twenty years out. Both Chig’s brother and sister, Peter and Connie, were packing for camp and besides they were too young for such and affair. But Chig was seventeen, had nothing to do that summer, and his father asked if he would like to go along. His father had given him additional reasons: “All my running buddies got their diplomas and were snapped up by them crafty young gals, and had kids within a year- now all those kids, some of them gals, are your age.”
The reunion had lasted a week. As they packed for home, his father, in a far too offhand way, had suggested they visit Chig’s grandmother. “We might as well drop in on her and my brother’s.”
So, instead of going north, they just had gone farther south, had just entered her house. And Chig had a suspicion now that the reunion had only been an excuse to drive south, that his father had been heading to this house all the time.
His father had never talked much about his family, with the exception of his brother, GL, who seemed part con man, part practical joker and part Don Juan; he had spoken of GL with the kind of indulgence he would have shown a cute, but ill-behaved and potentially dangerous, five-year-old.
Chig’s father had left home when he was fifteen. When asked why, he would answer: “I wanted to go to school. They didn’t have a Negro high school at home, so I went up to