The Awakening

(Story Short) Gran's Reawakening

A Short side story / Author's note

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"Is this thing on? One, two, threeeee... one, two, three. Can y'all hear me?" Tapping the microphone, the way actors do in movies, Gran waited for the audience to give her their full attention. She loved how the sounds she made vibrated across the room through the stereos. She could tap all day long and could probably think up some cool rap song that would get her more famous then Kanye.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

"We hear you Gran! Get on with it!" The familiar voice came from her adorably annoying grandson. If he wasn't her flesh and blood, she wouldn't have stopped herself from throwing her cane at him.

"Don't rush me boy! I'm an old woman. You can't rush old. We take our time like fine wine." That got a few chuckles.

She tried to spot Trent among the dozen or so heads in the crowd, but it was hard to see with the piercing white light that was aimed directly at her face. Whoever was managing the stage lights was hell bent on giving her early onset blindness. She'd bet five bucks that person was Vincent.

"There's nothing old about you, Gran!" Someone else yelled, which made the audience laugh.

Gran's lips twerked up with that pleasant complement. "All of you zip your traps. I'm going to start my performance now." She said and the voices stopped like someone had pressed a pause button. "Ever since I saw Britney Spears in pom-pom pigtails, singing 'Hit me Baby, one more Time', I had a dream of one day performing on stage just like that!"

Was it just her imagination or did someone just audibly gulp?

"I'm not getting any younger and..." She started unfastening her grey wool cardigan. "this is the only chance I got. It took a lot of begging to get my daughter to agree for my time on this stage!" Gran had one more button left to unfasten and the whole pack would see the sexy crop top she bought online. It was a miracle it arrived on time for today's performance. She had to pay extra for the fast delivery, but it was well worth it to see all these youngsters see an old woman bust a move like Shakira.

"Mom!"

She took a quick glance to her left and spotted her overbearing goodie-two-shoes daughter glaring at her with clenched teeth and closed palms.

Rolling her eyes, she continued to unfasten the tough button.

"Heck with it." She muttered and she pulled the stubborn button until it popped off and rolled down the stage and off the edge. "If one of you find that button, please hand it back to me so I can sew it back on. Now then—

The microphone was abruptly snatched from her hands.

"Hey!" Gran shouted.

Someone stepped in front of her shielding her from the harsh spotlight.

"I'm sorry folks, for this unappropriated behavior. Please give me a second to have a quick conversation with our speaker. Our planned program will resume shortly." Tracy placed the microphone back on the stand and whipped back to stare daggers at her crazy mother. "You have one job!" She hissed. "I gave you a script to read out of and you pull this nonsense."

Gran shrugged, not caring one bit about her sudden off script performance. "One song is just 3 minutes. That won't hurt anyone."

"We run a distinguished establishment. An old woman in a crop top, screaming at minors to 'hit me one more time' is severely inappropriate. What will we do if they run to their parents about this?"

"What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas." She was tempted to stick out her tongue but knowing her daughter, she would probably be dragged out by her tongue.