My Great, Great Grandfather

My Great, Great GrandfatherBy Julia Brewer

My stomach clenched, and asI pressed my soft lips up to the cold, clear glass cradled in my hands, I began to think. Think about him, my father, about living an eternity and never seeing him again, even if it could only be in heaven. And think about her, my mother and everyone else for that matter, watching them grow old, and sick, and die, whileI stayed put, never moving, and never changing. Then I thought about if this was the right choice, if this is what I really wanted, andI stood there with everyone watching, just thinking.

It started back about 3 weeks ago. It was all over the news, in every paper, in every store, on every street. I remember picking up the paper on the kitchen table for the first time, reading the title "Small Sherbrook Gets a Turn", and I felt my gut sinking. I didn't do big, and I hated deals or events. Only normal simple things kept me sane, and even then people would argue otherwise. I read through the article, "Mysterious Man Allan Fredrickson Dies of Old Age." "Fredrickson, that's my name," I said to myself. Well it was my name, but my mom made me change it back to her name after my father died. She tried her best to forget about him, it was so hard for her when he passed, she couldn't even say his name anymore. I read through the rest of the story. It said that the man had been alone and was left in his house while no one even knew he was dead. It seemed no one even knew him at all. They searched his house and had found what looked like an old fountain or an oversized birdbath with water still running in it in the basement. Next to the fountain it said there was a note left which appeared to actually be a biography of the man's life. It had a copy of the said biography in the paper. "Hello, my name is Allan Fredrickson," the article said. "I was born February 3rd of 1837." I stopped to read over the last sentence again.

"1837?" I thought. "Thats impossible. This man would have been almost 200 years old." I mean he looked rather old but like late 70's, nothing close to 200 years, and it's impossible to live that long anyways. This was clearly a printing error on the editor's part. I heard my mother's footsteps coming down the stairs. I put down the newspaper. Obviously it was some kind of mistake anyways. I went up to the pantry to fix myself some breakfast. "Good morning Leah." my mother said in a raspy, morning voice.

"Morning, "I answered back "Have you read the newspaper today mom?" I asked conspicuously.

She laughed. "Well who hasn't?" she said. "This is rather big news for us here, you should know that."

"What news?" I asked curiously. "It was a mistake wasn't it?" I said in a wondering tone.

"The Fountain of Youth had been discovered here in our little town, that's big news," she said smugly. "And, well if it was a mistake, I don't think it would be spreading all over the world." What was she talking about? Sure, I mean it was a big deal here in Sherbrook. It was the top news but usually a dog running away is top news here in our little town. The rest of my morning seemed mostly normal. I got ready, and my best friend Peter came and picked me up in his brand new, red BMW.

When I got to school everyone was talking about the Fountain of Youth well that wasnt a surprise. I didnt really understand how it was such a big deal in reality though. I mean how do they know this fountain even works, how did they know this mysterious man didnt just make up the entire story. That afternoon when I got home I flicked on the TV. Of course it was a news story talking about the fountain. On the TV it showed several people talking about how it was just a scam, it was only a myth and the fountain did nothing. I turned off the TV and sighed in relief. I knew it! I laughed. It was just crap made up by some old man.

The next morning I woke up and went down stairs for breakfast. Leah! my mother said as I approached the bottom steps of the stairs. Look at this. she exclaimed very enthusiastically and handed me Todays copy of The Sherbrook Times. Oh no! I thought more about the fountain. I thought this was done with. I whined.Just read it! she insisted. I grabbed the paper from her hands and stared down at it. It said as they were moving the fountain out of the mans house another piece of paper had been found underneath it. This new piece of paper happened to be a description of the fountain itself. It clearly stated that the water of youth can be drunk by any human being but will only bring the miracle among those who share the same blood as its past user. This meant only the family of this man Allan Fredrickson could become youthful. But, no one seems to know him. I stated to my mother. I guess not. She replied. This was alright, I thought. If no one was related to him nothing would happen when they drank the water anyways. There would be no point, people would lose interest, and our town would become safe and quiet again. I went upstairs to get my stuff together before Peter arrived to pick me up again.

I remembered today for History I needed to bring my grandmothers old knitted quilt to represent something from our families past. I went upstairs to the attic to look for it or at least something I could use. I found an old box. Ah it must be in here. I said and brushed the dust off the top of it. I opened it. Inside were my dead fathers old army jacket and a photo album. I also found a book with the words Fredrickson family tree written on the front. It startled me at first because for the past while, everywhere Id been hearing the name Fredrickson, Allan Fredrickson thats is. I had almost even forgotten it was my real name. Then I thought kind of curiously about how the fountain could only be used by people related to this man. I opened the family tree strictly for curiosity, not expecting to find anything. There it showed the names, George Fredrickson: my father. Above my fathers name were my grandparents Jayne and William Fredrickson, and above them were my great grandparents, Louise and Dave Fredrickson. My eyes almost bulged out of my head when I read who my great, great grandfather was. Of course it was none other than Allan Fredrickson. I threw the book down, realizing I was late and ran down the stairs forgetting about the quilt I needed for class.

So, do you remember my Dad? I said to my bestfriend Jenny. She nodded and rubbed my shoulder as if to soothe me from pain. Remember my old name? I asked her. She laughedFredrickprick, she said as if mocking me, Yeah, well Bargoff suits you much better anyways.Its Fredrickson. I corrected her. Its just all this stuff about the Fountain of Youth and this mysterious Allan Fredrickson.She stared at me with a blank face. While Jenny was never the brightest girl I thought maybe she could have put this together, I was, after all, laying the answers out right in front of her. Then I examined her long, wavy blonde hair and light pink, shiny lips and started to giggle. Forget it. I said.Are you trying to say that you think youre related to this old dead guy? she interrupted with a questioning look on her face.Well I found this old book about my fathers family, and I found Allan Fredrickson as my great, great grandfather. I said. Her blue eyes opened wide. Oh My God! She exclaimed. So if you drink this magic water youll live forever! She seemed very excited about this. No Jenny, no. I said. I dont believe in all this stuff anyways. I said. She looked at me with a disappointed expression. Ring! The bell for my first class rang. As Jenny got up for class I made her promise me that she wouldnt tell anyone about this. I didnt want people finding out, It would be just that much more drama in my life. She looked me in the eyes. I promise! she said sincerely.

The next morning I woke up to what sounded like a riot outside. I looked out my bedroom window and standing outside my front door was a whole group of people talking and several cameras and interviewers. I hurried down the stairs calling for my mother. Mom? I yelled. Yeah I dont know whats going on either. She said sounding confused. Something to do with Allan Fredrickson I think. She said. Jenny! I thought out loud. I rushed into the kitchen and grabbed my cell phone from the counter. I TOLD YOU NOT TO TELL ANYONE! >: ( I texted her. A few seconds later I got a reply. OMG, OMG, OMG! Im sorry, Im sorry, Im sorry, I only told Peter who told Brian who told Maria who posted it on Facebook she sent. I was mad, furious with her, but I didnt have time for that now. I walked up to the front door and took a deep breath as I began to open it.

Leah, Leah! one reporter insisted. How long have you known you were related to Allan Fredrickson? Uh, UHm! I stuttered and looked away. Do you really believe in the Fountain of Youth, or do you think its just another myth? another reporter asked. From then on the questions kept pilling on. Do you understand what this discovery could mean for the world? How closely related are you to Allan? Are you going to drink from the fountain? Then as I was about to pass out someone grabbed me by the arm and pulled me out of the crowd.

Hello, I am Doctor Phillips. A handsome man said with a kind smile on his face. He was most likely in his late twenties or early thirties and had dark brown hair.This all must be a bit much for you. He acknowledged kindly. I nodded and laughed slightly. I really hope you know what this could mean for our little town, what it could mean to science. He swayed. I have to say, I didnt want to admit it, I didnt usually give in easily. Whether it be his extremely good looks or simply his great skills in the art of persuasion, it was working, and somehow after awhile I came to an agreement to drink from the fountain. Its not like I thought it would work anyways, and once this was over I could go back to my simple, happy life. Doctor Phillips was then joined by two other people. I assume they were scientists as well. They asked me and my mother a few basic questions and got some ID to provide evidence that I was really related.

The car ride to the fountain was a blur. I guess I had been too focused and nervous about what I had gotten myself into. What if the fountain really did work? I mean I knew it wouldnt, but what if it did. I tried my best to think of other things. We arrived and hundreds of people, it seemed, were standing around the fountain to view this event. More people were there then I even knew existed in the city. I closed my eyes and listened to whatever people told me to do.

My stomach clenched, and asI pressed my soft lips up to the cold, clear glass in my hands, I began to think. Think about him, my dead father, about living an eternity without him. And think about her, my mother and everyone else for that matter, watching them grow old, and sick, and die, whileI stayed put, never moving, and never changing. Then I thought about if this was the right choice, if this is what I really wanted, andI stood there with everyone watching, just thinking. I put my glass down next to the fountain and closed my eyes. I couldnt do it, even if it didnt work, I couldnt risk it. As everyone around me began to shout things my ears blurred things together and everything I heard was a giant mush of noises. Then I started to loose consciousness and everyone and everything around me went black