Alternating Current: A Tesla Novel Read Online Free

she never knew it.
    “Did you get home
late last night?”
    He gave in. “Around
three.”
    “THREE A.M.?”
    “Yes, Grandma,
gimme five more minutes, please.”
    “Five minutes,
then I get the garden hose.”
    Phillip knew his
grandmother would never do such a thing. He rolled over and tried to go back to
sleep. Two minutes later, his grandmother returned.
    “I brought you a bowl
of cereal, throw on some old clothes and meet me upstairs when you’re ready.”
    Phillip grunted in
agreement.
    A few minutes
later, he heard loud steps above him. He hadn’t been in the attic for a while,
but he knew there was no visible pathway, it was that cluttered. He heard his
grandmother kicking things out of her way. Then there was silence.
    Phillip stomped up
the stairs. “Grandma, let’s make this quick---you’re crying, what’s wrong?”
    She didn’t answer
him.
    A quick look
around told Phillip why she was crying. The attic held so many memories. His
grandfather’s bellman uniform hung from the rafters. After all those years, could
she bear to part with it?
    Phillip noticed
his mother’s things, too. A Barbie dollhouse and a black Barbie doll. He picked
up the doll.
    “That’s Barbie’s
friend, her name is Christie. Your grandfather was so proud when he gave it to
your mother. He said if Barbie could have a Negro friend, then anyone could. It
was a different time then.” Her eyes welled with tears again.
    Phillip hugged his
grandmother. He knew she missed her husband and daughter. He missed them, too.
Even though he’d never known his grandfather and couldn’t remember his mother.
Still, the memories were there, connected to all those items in the attic. He
was certain that once his grandmother overcame her sadness, he would learn a
great deal about his mother and grandfather. “So, where should we start?” He
tried to muster a cheerful voice.
    “Oh, Sweetie,
maybe this isn't such a good idea. I'm not sure about this.”
    “It's okay,
Grandma. These are just things. It’s the memories that are important.”
    Mavis hugged her
grandson. “You’re a good boy, Phillip. Your mom would be proud of you. Your
grandfather, too.”
    Phillip picked up
a box filled with old National Geographic Magazines. “Wow, I bet these are
collector’s issues. We could sell them on e-bay.”
    “Your grandfather
will roll over in his grave. He loved those magazines. He even joined the
National Geographic Explorer’s Club.”
    “Grandpa? An
Explorer?” Phillip set the box aside. He wanted to read the old magazines
someday. He stumbled over a small tricycle and grabbed the hanging uniform to
maintain his balance. “Hey look, my mom’s tricycle”
    “No, Sweetie.
That’s yours.”
    Phillip cringed.
“But Grandma, it’s pink.”
    “This nice woman
gave it to your mother. Her daughter didn't ride it anymore. Times were tough,
besides, you didn’t care at the time. You loved it.”
    Phillip placed the
tricycle near the stairs. “This has to go.”
    The other toys had
him worried now. Dolls, tea sets, an Easy-Bake Oven, dress up clothes and more.
“Please tell me these aren’t mine.”
    “No, those
belonged to your mother.”
    Phillip sighed
with relief.
    Mavis opened a
small trunk and retrieved a beautiful dress from inside. It flowed with lace
ruffles and a puffy hooped skirt, something reminiscent of “Gone with the
Wind.”
    “I want to wear
this dress when you bury me. Don’t worry about shoes, you won’t see my feet,
but the dress is important.”
    “Grandma, I don’t
want to talk about it, we have a long time before I’ll need to worry about
that.”
    “I hope so, but
tell me you’ll honor my wishes.”
    “I promise,
Grandma.” Phillip changed the subject. "What's that?" He pointed to
five large canisters stacked nearby. Much larger than coffee cans, the logo on
the cans read "Charles Chips."
    “What are Charles
Chips?”
    “Oh, your
grandfather loved those potato chips; they were so light and