Grand Central station, New York City, 1930. People bustling, baby’s crying, train breaks screeching, unloading and loading, just another day at the station. People running everywhere, as they rush to catch their train. Everything rushed and moving. Total chaos. Nobody notices a shiny little object resting among the clattering of feet and shouting. The penny is kicked around several times by business men and mothers trying to catch there runaway children before it comes to rest at the feet of a little girl about three years old. She picks it up curiously, looking at both sides with interest before deciding to ask her mother about it. “Mother, what is this” she asked holding up the penny to show her mother. “That, Samantha, is a penny.” “What’s a penny?” “A penny is what we use to buy thing that only cost one cent, I used one to buy the train tickets to Grandmas house. Oh, here’s our train, let’s go to grandma’s house.
Clouds started to form as Mother and Daughter boarded the train, then rain started to fall as the walked up the steps to the front door of grandma’s house. “Should I knock on the door or should I do it?” “I can do it” Samantha said as she reached on her tipi toes for the black door knocker that resembled a birds head. The knocker gave a resounding thump as it bounced against the door. Thunder sounded in the distance as they waited for grandma to answer the door. Nobody came. “I’ll try again.”Samantha said. Thump, Thump, Thump. Still nothing. Samantha’s mom cautiously, prepared for something to jump out at her. Nothing did. “OK, stay here while I go check things out,” she said, “No, I don’t want to stay here, I want to go see grandma” Samantha argued. “Fine, but stay right behind me” Samantha’s mom sighed, “I don’t want someone to hurt you.” “I promise I’ll be careful.”
The old floor boards creaked under their weight as they went into the cold house. There was an old style kitchen with a Franklin stove straight ahead; the fire was out in the stove. There was an uncooked half eaten chicken sitting on the table, blood was splattered everywhere and the bones were scattered all over the room, silverware, and pots and pans were strewn about like a bear or some large creature had been looking for a snack. On the right, there was a living room with a couch and a rocking chair next to the fire place. There was also an armchair on its side. The cushions on the couch were all ripped open and the insides had been thrown everywhere. The armchairs legs had been broken off and thrown into the walls so they stuck. Pieces of China plates covered the floor, making it impossible to walk on without getting punctured. Grandma’s house was altogether a mess, but grandma was still missing.
“What happened in here?” asked Samantha. “I don’t know, I was wondering the same thing,” her mom responded, almost speechless for words. “Shouldn’t we call the police?” Samantha wondered out loud, remembering the safety lessons her mother had told here in case there was an emergency. “Yes we should, but let’s try to find grandma first.” She answered as she walked into the kitchen, grabbing a butchering knife as she went. “Now Samantha, you will stay right behind me, no arguing, and no questions, do you understand?” “Yes mother,” she agreed, understanding the tone in her mothers voice, it meant, “Don’t do anything without asking, and do as I say, or else.”
They walked around the bottom level of the house, the protective mother with the butcher knife raised and ready and a stern but not so sure look on her face. The bottom level was a mess, but know sign of grandma. As they turned to go up the stairs to the second level, they saw a trail of broken glass leading the way up. About half way up the stairs, they could see a tinge of red among the darkly stained oak wood. This almost confirmed Samantha’s moms thoughts. As they reached the top of the spiral staircase, they saw the almost unrecognizable face of grandma.