Chapter 2

The local elementary school was perched on a hill, about a thirty-minute walk from the house.

On my first day, Grandma held my hand and talked to me the whole way there.

"Charlotte, make sure you listen to your teachers," Grandma reminded me. "Stay out of trouble, no fighting. And I packed you some lunch."

She slipped a metal tin into my backpack. It held a cold cheese sandwich and a few cheap pickle slices.

I trailed behind her with my backpack on.

She walked agonizingly slow, keeping one hand pressed against her lower back.

"Grandma, does your back hurt?" I asked.

She waved it off. "No, just a little stiff, that's all."

When we reached the school gates, she knelt down to adjust my backpack straps.

Her hands were trembling.

I noticed her palms were covered in thick calluses, with dark dirt permanently wedged under her fingernails.

"Go on now. I'll be right here to pick you up when the bell rings," she said.

I nodded and headed inside.

When I glanced back, she was still standing there.

She gave me a little wave before turning around to start the trek home.

From a distance, her stooped figure looked so incredibly small.

All the other kids were dropped off by their parents.

Some moms lingered at the gate to give last-minute reminders and affectionate head pats.

I was the only one dropped off by a grandparent.

A girl in my class asked me, "Where are your parents?"

"They work in the city," I replied.

"Then why aren't you going to school in the city?"

I didn't know what to say.

I just looked down at my shoes and mumbled, "Because my Grandma is here."

The girl just said "Oh" and dropped the subject.

At lunch, I opened my tin.

The cheese sandwich was stale, and the pickles were unappetizing.

The boy sitting next to me took one look and muttered, "That's all you're eating?"

I ignored him and quietly finished my food.

It honestly tasted awful, but I knew Grandma had gotten up at five in the morning to put it together for me.

*****

True to her word, Grandma was waiting for me after school.

She stood by the gates clutching a heavy canvas sack filled to the brim with crushed soda cans and flattened cardboard.

I walked over, and she smiled. "Did you understand everything in class today?"

"Yeah, I got it." I nodded.

"That's good."

She took my hand, holding the heavy sack with her other arm.

I tried to help her carry it, but she wouldn't let me. "You're too little. It's too heavy for you."

But I could see she was struggling.

The sack was so heavy it was pulling her shoulder down.

On the walk home, I looked up at her. "Grandma, how much money can we get for those cans?"

She thought about it for a second. "Probably one or two bucks."

"So how much money do we have in total?"

She was quiet for a moment. "Not a lot. But enough to keep us fed."

I didn't push it.

But deep down, I already knew the truth. Grandma was broke. Dirt poor.

*****

Later that evening, I saw her out in the yard washing clothes.

She was hunched over a big galvanized tub, scrubbing the laundry piece by piece.

The water was freezing, leaving her hands raw and bright red.

I walked over and crouched down next to her. "Grandma, let me help you."

She shook her head. "No need. Go inside and do your homework."

"I already finished my it."

She looked at me for a long second before finally giving in. "Alright. Just wash your own clothes then."

I rolled up my sleeves and plunged my hands into the tub.

The water was ice cold. It felt like tiny knives against my skin.

But I kept my mouth shut, gritted my teeth, and kept scrubbing.

Grandma watched me, her eyes tearing up.

She reached out and stroked my hair. "You shouldn't have to live this hard of a life, Charlotte."

I shook my head. "It's not hard."

But honestly, my heart was breaking.

It made me think back to when I lived in the city. Mom never let me do the laundry.

She always said I was too young to worry about chores.

But now, I had to step up and do it myself because Grandma was already exhausted to her bones.

I tossed and turned in bed that night.

"When are Mom and Dad coming to see me?" I whispered.

Grandma stayed quiet for a long time. "As soon as work slows down for them, they'll be here."

She finally said softly, "When they're done with work, they'll come."

"How long will that take?"

"I don't know. It might be a little while."

I dropped the subject.

I could hear it in her voice.

She had no idea. Or maybe she did know, but just didn't want to break it to me.

I closed my eyes, and the tears started falling all over again.

Grandma gently patted my back. "Shh, don't cry. Grandma is here."

Her hands were rough and calloused.

But they were the warmest thing in the entire world.