What About The Ritual

 PART ONE

The past week has been one of the strangest in my life, and yet also one of the best experiences I've had in a long time. Now, as the week was drawing to a close, there was a sense of melancholy, the kind you felt as your vacation was drawing to a close. I wasn't quite ready to go back to the way things were, yet I'd certainly had my fill. All I had to do now was pack my suitcase. Or rather, find Greg and get him to do it. Technically, it was his, after all.

I hadn't heard much from him this morning. It was like he was avoiding me, drawing out the inevitable. Which was ridiculous, he was the one who had gotten the worst end of the stick this week! And yet, I couldn't find him anywhere in the house.

Eventually, I thought to check the back yard, and there he was, resting on the porch. He was topless, stood in the last beams of the available sun, and quietly puffing on a cigar, which made me frown. "Hey," I called out as I approached. "What are you doing out here for?"

"Soaking in the sun, smoking a cigar." He replied nonchalantly.

"I can see that," I grumbled. "I just wish you would've asked first. Those cigars were a gift, I don't like wasting them on such frivolities."

He merely grunted, and blew a puff of smoke out into the breeze. "Believe me, I already know." He tapped his bald noggin with a grin. "I figured it was a special occassion for me. The last chance I'd have to smoke one, given how you're supposed to -" He paused for a second. "How I'm supposed to head home today."

"Yeah, yeah. Just wrap it up quick. We still have to do the ritual before your mom gets here, or you'll be stuck being Grandpa Greg until Thanksgiving, at least."

"MbeIwntbgrmpagreg," he grumbled under his breath. Something nonsensical, before he raised his voice. "Maybe you should pack if you really wanna get rid of me that badly."

"Excuse me?"

"Pack my bags while I finish this cigar. Or else it'll go to waste. Then we can do the whole switcharoo."

I tried to think of a comeback, but I could only grumble. As much as I hate him smoking my vintage cigars, I also don't want it to be wasted halfway in. And it wasn't as if Greg had packed much, I could be done in half an hour, tops. Besides, I was done arguing about these totems once again. I gave him a final death glare, before turning back to the house with a huff.

A Ritual

It started as a hypothetical. Not even that. I wasn't even the one who introduced the idea. And now our lives have been flipped, traded, intertwined. But I'm getting ahead of myself... Many decades back, whilst backpacking through Europe, I picked up a pair of of totems from an antique shop. I didn't understand the significance of them back then, I just thought they looked like unusual knick-knacks. The person who sold them to me surely didn't know either, I'm sure they can't have. Or they wouldn't have sold them to me for so cheap...

Those totems still sit on my bookshelf alongside all the other various tchotchkes I've acquired over the years. I'd never even thought to look into their origins. Why would I? They were mass-produced tat for all I knew. It wasn't until my grandson, Greg, took a sudden interest in them. I was looking after him for the week while his mother went on one of her business trips. And as soon as he arrived, he made a bee-line for my bookshelf, and plucked them right off the top. He then went off on some tirade about a documentary he'd seen on the internet about old-world rituals. Apparently, these totems were used as part of a ritual that would allow two people to air grievances by putting themselves in the other's position, and working through their issues together. Or that's how it sounded to me.

"Nuh-uh," Greg sighed with a shake of his head. "The guy on YouTube literally said they swapped minds."

"Exactly. They swapped their thoughts and troubles to better understand each other's position, and come to a mutual agreement." 

"You're not getting it, Gramps." Greg took the totems, and swapped them around in his hands. "They swapped for real life, body and mind. They each became the other!"

"Don't be ridiculous," I spat, upset by the very notion. "It's clearly metaphorical."

Suddenly, a mischievous smile crept across Greg's face. "If it's so metaphorical, why don't we give it a try?"

Grandfather Clock

Tick...Tick...Tick... Greg stared at the grandfather clock with a frown, his arms crossed. The mystery of the clock had consumed him for the entirety of his stay at his grandpa's house. It ticked, which would usually mean it worked. And yet the hands had been stuck at 1:30 all weekend. Whenever he got close, his grandpa would shoo him away, warning him not to get too close. But why did he care? It didn't look fragile or expensive, unlike the other antiques in the room.

Greg stood in front of the clock, watching the pendulum swing left to right. Its incessant ticking taunting him. It was clearly working, so why was the time completely wrong? He looked at his phone to see that it was many hours out of time. If only he could nudge the hands to the correct time, it might restart and begin working once more. But his grandpa... Thinking on it, he hadn't seen or heard his Grandpa Drew all morning. He slunk through the house, looking for the old man, eventually finding him dozing outside with the morning newspaper resting on his belly. Greg grinned, this was perfect!

He rushed back to the clock and gingerly placed a finger on the wooden panel. Then his whole hand. Then the other. Greg smiled mischievously. He was touching the grandfather clock and his grandpa wouldn't even know! As long as he kept his grubby fingers to the wood and not the glass, he wouldn't risk leaving a stray fingerprint. Now all he had to do was adjust the time. He reached up on his tiptoes, and pushed against the minute hand to move it backwards. Yet try as he might, it just wouldn't budge. Gingerly, he nudged it forwards, and the hand moved! Doing so made a weird tingle go down his back. He chocked it up to the thrill of doing something against the rules.

Tables Have Turned

Bystander

Santa Hat 11

App Exchange

Who Had It Tougher

Grandpa's Pipe

Follow The Rules

College Concerns

The Vial

Swapping Ages