The Bracelet & Mr. Homan | The Dreamweaver

I went to visit my grandparents at their apartment on Maplewood.

When I arrived, my grandfather seemed agitated about something and said he didn't want to talk about it.

I approached my grandmother who was in the kitchen pantry looking frantically for something.

I asked her what she was looking for and she told me it was a "special bracelet" that she had hid long ago somewhere in the pantry but had forgotten exactly where it was.

Just then, she removed a tall cardboard package of Quaker oats she had pulled from the back of a shelf and went over to the round kitchen table dumping the entire contents of the package onto it.

She began moving her hand through the pile of oats causing them to fall onto the fall and every which way.

Finally, she stopped, and in her hand was the small silver bracelet she had been looking for.

At that moment, we heard my grandfather approaching and my grandmother took the bracelet and ran onto the back porch, opened the back door and quickly headed down the stairs to the basement.

Hearing the commotion, my grandfather ran out the front door, apparently with the intention of cutting her off in the basement before she got any further.

I decided to run down the back stairs to intervene and rather than walk down the stairs, I slid down a laundry shoot and landed on the basement floor just as my grandmother was walking in.

Just then, my grandfather arrived to the basement and confronted my grandmother about the bracelet. He began singing a deranged sort of song in a low baritone drone repeating the same lyric over and over again..."Mr Homan, Mr. Ho-man, Mr. Hooo Maaan..."

I stood there looking at my grandparents in disbelief, soon realizing the bracelet was a gift from this supposed Mr. Homan who I surmised had been my grandmother's lover.

Then I woke up.

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