"Huh?" Cecilia looked around her at the gathered crowd, all curious and eager to try this cruise ship she was describing.
"Hey, that ship sounds majestic. Where can we try that cruise?" An elderly woman asked.
"Yeah, we never heard about that ship before, but I'm so taken by your description that we want to take that cruise," A young couple asked.
"I'd like to board that ship as soon as possible, it sounds relaxing to be in there," Another commented, clearly the excitement was evident in his voice.
"Uhm, no, you don't! Trust me, you don't want to board that ship anytime soon. And…uh…it's by invitation only," Cecilia pushed his grandfather inside the boutique to escape the gathering crowd. "Common Pops, time to go."
It was nearly sunset when Cecilia and her grandfather reached the intersection on their way home. "You shouldn't have bought me all these clothes, Cee," Ernesto said, showing the several paper bags he was carrying. "And this one…so very expensive, we could probably pay several months of bills if I sell this one." Dangling a metallic gold foil paper bag.
"Pops, I will never forgive you if you sell that one. I'll just keep buying you a new one," Cecilia jested at the old man.
"Who is this Chris guy you mentioned? Is he your boyfriend?" The question caught Cecilia off guard. Before she could even answer, her grandfather fired another one, "When will you introduce that punk to me? I want to meet him as soon as possible so I can warn him that I will skin him alive if he ever makes you cry." His voice, despite his age, boomed like he was speaking through a megaphone.
"Pops, stop it, you'll pop a vein at this rate. Besides, he is not my boyfriend; I can't even say if we are friends." Cecilia lamented as she confessed to her grandfather, "I just admire him, that's all."
"What do you admire about this person?" The old man asked, but this time his voice was soft and curious.
"What's there to like? He's just a rude asshole. Who doesn't know how to show an ounce of respect and care?" Cecilia started, "But there is something so endearing about the brooding, sad boy persona that he puts on. He may seem cold and distant, but that is only because of the loss that he experienced throughout his life." Cecilia gave a shallow sigh. "But if you are willing to see past his cold exterior, you will see a lonely man who just wants to build a connection with someone. Not to mention, he is so easy on the eyes," she capped off
"So, you like him," Ernesto deduced. Cecilia only replied with a nod; she knew her grandfather could read her like an open book, and there was no sense in hiding it all.
They quietly passed the intersection, but something caught the old man's attention. The old man handed all the paper bags to Cecilia and took the plastic bag with some take-out food. "Pops? Where are you taking that?" But the old man just waltzed towards the bench under the balete tree. Cecilia searched in the direction her grandfather was heading and saw a person sleeping on the bench. "It's Sir Andres?"
The old man gently placed the plastic bag of food on the bench and sat next to Andres. "Wake up! Hey, Andres, wake up!" Cecilia's grandfather kept shaking the sleeping man on the shoulders, trying to rouse him.
"Go away! What the hell do you want?" Andres swatted the old man's hands away.
"You need to eat something; alcohol alone is not good for an aging body like ours." Cecilia watched from a distance, observing how her grandfather showed compassion.
"Mind your own business, you nosy old man!" Andres snapped, "If I want to drown myself in alcohol, then I will do so; you have no right to interfere!" He sat up straight, preparing himself to leave.
"This won't bring him back," The old man said. "What you're doing to yourself, it won't bring your son back."
"What the hell do you know about losing a child? Have you ever buried your child? Because I did, I buried my son!" Andres shouted at Cecilia's grandfather.
A quiet sadness settled over Ernesto's face. "I buried both my children. My son died thirty years ago from sickness, and my daughter from an accident twelve years ago, or have you forgotten?" Andres's anger subsided when he heard what the old man said, "I understand more about losing a child than you think." Cecilia couldn't help but place her hand over her mouth in a desperate attempt to stifle herself from crying.
"At least you have your granddaughter, someone to hold onto…who do I have? No one," Andres replied, his voice threatening to break.
"Yes, I have my Cecilia, and you…still have your whole life. Do you think Wally would want to see you like this every day?" The old man sighed, "My eldest died of heart disease, and Cecilia's mother and father died because of a traffic accident, but we don't blame the disease or the accident or the driver of the truck; no one could have predicted that it would happen. Just like what happened to Wally, you could have had no way of knowing that would happen. If he could see you today, he would be heartbroken, because he is blaming himself for what is happening to you."
For a moment, silence stretched between the two men. Andres stood up and took the food. "Thank you for the meal," he told the old man. He turned to Cecilia, "Thank you." his voice was shaking, and he hastened to leave the intersection.
Cecilia sat beside her grandfather. "That was so sweet of you, Pops," she said, admiring how compassionate he was.
"It was the right thing to do, child, I just hope that it made a difference to that man and that he would see the error of his ways and clean his act before it is too late," He told Cecilia as his gaze followed Andres, till he vanished, turning a corner.
Cecilia glanced at the smiling ghost of Wally, waving his hands to her as he left to follow his father. "I'm sure of it, Pops, I'm sure of it." She placed her head over his grandfather's shoulders and began to hum his favorite song.