Lost Cause Read Free Page A

to live to see another day, never mind live long enough to grow old.
    â€œBut I did live a long and wonderful life. I was blessed to meet the love of my life, your grandmother Vera. It’s so sad that she passed on before any of you had a chance to meet her. I know people never speak ill of the dead—and I’m counting on you all to keep up that tradition with me—but your grandmother was simply the most perfect woman in the world. Her only flaw, as far as I can see, was being foolish enough to marry me.”
    As Grandfather talked on about how proud he was of his daughters—our mothers—and how he had loved coming to all our school plays and soccer games, my mind began to wander. Something he’d said in the video was nagging at me. My brow furrowed in concentration. He’d often talked about his time as a pilot in the Second World War, but I’d never heard him refer to almost dying as a boy. What did it all mean? I didn’t know any stories from before his time as a pilot. What had he done when he was younger that made him think he was going to die? It was a mystery.
    The flickering image on the screen drew me back to Grandfather and his story. Mom had guilted me into coming today, but wild horses couldn’t have dragged me away now.
    Grandfather was finishing off his account of how much joy we had brought him. “You boys, you wonderful, incredible, lovely boys, have been such a blessing…seven blessings…”
    Out of the corner of my eye I noticed DJ tense up. Then I realized why. There were six grandsons, not seven. Was the old man’s brain not as sharp as he thought? His voice caught and he covered it by taking a long sip of water.
    â€œBut I didn’t bring you here simply to tell you how much I loved you all,” he went on eventually. “Being part of your lives was one of the greatest achievements of my life, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything, but being there for all your big moments meant that I couldn’t be elsewhere. I’ve done a lot, but it doesn’t seem that time is going to permit me the luxury of doing everything I wished for. So, I have some requests, some last requests.”
    The six of us looked at each other, but everyone was as confused as I was.
    â€œIn the possession of my lawyer are some envelopes. One for each of you.”
    Six heads swung around, as if programmed, to look at the lawyer. He smiled and waved a fan of manila envelopes at us.
    Grandfather reclaimed our attention. “Each of these requests, these tasks, has been specifically selected for you to fulfill. All of the things you will need to complete your task will be provided—money, tickets, guides. Everything.
    â€œI am not asking any of you to do anything stupid or unnecessarily reckless—certainly nothing as stupid or reckless as I did at your ages.”
    There it was again, a reference to mysterious things he had done as a boy. What was going on?
    â€œYour parents may be worried, but I have no doubts. Just as I have no doubts that you will all become fine young men. I am sad that I will not be there to watch you all grow into the incredible men I know you will become. But I don’t need to be there to know that will happen. I am so certain of that. As certain as I am that I will be there with you as you complete my last requests, as you continue your life journeys.”
    The air in the room felt heavy with silence. We were barely breathing. Grandfather lifted his glass. “A final toast,” he said, “to the best grandsons a man could ever have.” He tipped back the glass, drained it, replaced it on the table and stared at us. “I love you all so much. Good luck.”
    The screen went black, and we all let out the breath we hadn’t realized we had been holding. The lawyer switched off the TV. “In my hands are the seven envelopes. One for each grandson.”
    â€œYou mean six.” DJ spoke the