THIS STORY WAS WRITTEN for my own son, a seven-year-old boy who is an avid reader. It is intended for children, approximately kindergarten through the fourth grade, touching on the subjects of Life, Death, and God.

Perhaps it's a little unusual for a children's story to deal with themes that are typically thought of as pretty heavy, but children become curious about these things at this age, and they experiment with the ideas in sometimes very irreverent ways. Oddly, kids are interested in Life, Death, and God, but they don't seem to take it very seriously - maybe they understand something grownups don't.

This story of a feisty grandfather, who, to his own surprise, returns from death to help out his grandson, uses kid-level-humor to present general themes, with some fantastic elements, and a touch of action. I hope that many parents, as well as their kids, will find it not only entertaining, but useful in understanding the universe around them.

ONE:
Dog of Death

The dog lowered his head, bared his massive teeth, and started barking viciously. Jake wasn't sure there were man-eating dogs, but if there were, this would be one. This huge monster dog, named Stinky, lived next door to Jake, so there was no way to avoid passing him every day walking to and from the school bus stop. Jake was scared of Stinky. Every day seemed like this would be the day Stinky would attack. The only thing that stopped the snarling animal was an invisible fence - the kind that gives the dog a little electric shock from its dog collar if it tries to go out of its yard.

As Jake froze in fear, he looked to make sure the collar was there. It was. His best friend, Tania, and the other kids from the bus were still walking home. Jake had to appear brave in front of them. Taking a deep breath and trying to not look afraid, he slowly walked past Stinky.

He made it. His mom was waiting at the front door. Safe at home one more time. But Jake wasn't happy, only relieved. Things had not been going well for him lately. There was Stinky, of course, but also third grade had not been going very well. His teacher, Mr. Leesberger, didn't seem to like him. Mr. Leesberger, with his food-stained shirts, constantly runny nose, and no-nonsense approach to teaching, made Jake just a little afraid. Instead of elementary school, Jake wished he could go to wizard school like those kids in the books everyone was reading. And there was a test tomorrow on Ancient China that Jake hadn't studied for at all. He'd have to study for hours that night. Then there was the thing about his grandpa.

"Hi, you handsome guy," his mom said. "I see you're not scared of Stinky anymore. That's great, 'cause there's no need to be, you know."

"Yeah, right," Jake glumly said. His mother trusted invisible fences. He didn't trust anything he couldn't see.

"What do you want for a snack?" asked his mom, as he dropped his backpack inside the front door.

"Nothin'. Not hungry."

His mom made that worried-look face. "You okay? You've been down for weeks."

"Yes, mom," he said, and rather than try to explain everything to her, he just said, "I have to read about Ancient China all night."

His mom watched him ramble into the family room. She still looked worried, but sighed and walked back into the laundry room. She knew that Jake's grandpa was part of the problem.

TWO:
A Month Ago

A month ago, summer break had ended. It had been a great summer, better than ever. Jake had spent lots of time with his grandfather, Grandpa Leon, who was retired and had lots of time for doing cool things with Jake. He took him fishing at the pond in the park, using plastic lures - not worms, thank you; he bought ice cream for them; he taught Jake to make rude noises with his hand and armpit; he played soccer with him (slow version); he played pretend wizards for hours - he was old Professor Doofus; he made Jake laugh all the time. Once he took him to a movie that his parents said he shouldn't see until he was thirteen, and, even though it was a little too scary, it was great! Leon was a pretty awesome old guy. A "rascal" his dad said. He really loved his grandpa.

Then five days before third grade started, Grandpa Leon died! He actually died!

It was hard to understand. A little like long division. One day, Leon was fine, then he was sick a few days, then he was gone, and no where to be found. A lot like the time he went fishing in Wyoming for ten days. He was gone but all of his stuff was still around - his clothes, his books, his candy bars, the smelly stuff he rubbed on his hands and elbows to make them feel better.

"What happened?" Jake had asked his dad.

"Jake," he said, "Grandpa had a bad heart attack."

"I know that," said Jake. "I sat in the room with him at the hospital while he slept."

"Yeah," said his dad. "And he didn't get well, like we hoped. And now he's gone."

"A person just can't be gone," Jake tried to explain to his dad.

"Well, he is. But I'm sure he's gone to a nice place. And he'd had a great life. He was pretty old. Ninety-two! You don't get much better than that."

"I don't understand it," said Jake.

"Well, death is a mystery. We just have to let him go, and get on with our lives."

That's what his dad had said, but getting on with his life wasn't so easy. He missed Grandpa Leon. Leon had a way of making bad things better - and now he couldn't do that anymore, dag nabbit. Jake thought this whole death thing was really rotten. Then the neighbors bought Stinky at the ASPCA and third grade started. Just great.

THREE:
China through the Ages

Now, sitting on the green sofa in the family room, he stared at a book entitled China through the Ages. It was thick. The pictures weren't that good. Although there was a photo of a great big wall that looked - well, great. "I wonder what they call it?" thought Jake.

"Great."

"What?" he said.

"Great. It's in China. It's a wall. And it's great. What would you call it?"

Jake laughed. "A great wall in China?"

"You are such a knucklehead," said Grandpa Leon. "We have got to send you to school someday to learn something!"

Jake laughed again and looked up from the book - and looked around the room. He was alone.

For a long time, he just sat there. He was almost holding his breath, waiting to hear the voice again. He really thought he had been talking with his grandpa. His dead as a doornail grandpa! His grandpa, Jake thought, who had passed away, departed, deceased, crossed over, kicked the bucket, bought the farm, shuttled off this mortal coil, croaked, was pushing up daisies. Finally, he even stood up and searched around the room, behind the sofa, out the window. No Grandpa Leon. He thought maybe he had fallen asleep and dreamed it, but he didn't really believe that. It seemed too real.

"That seemed too real," said his grandpa.

This time Jake looked at the big chair that had a tear in the seat cushion, and on top of that cushion sat Leon. Jake looked very surprised. Leon looked even more surprised!

"You're dead," shouted Jake.

"I know!" shouted Grandpa.

"What are doing here?" shouted Jake, alarmed.

"I don't know!" shouted Grandpa, alarmed.

They stopped shouting, both staring wide-eyed at each other.

"Okay, let's just calm down," said Leon.

"Okay, good idea," said Jake.

"We'll figure this out."

"Okay ... should I go get mom?"

"No. This would freak her out."

For another few moments they were quiet. Then Leon said, "I don't think this was supposed to happen, me showing up like this."

Jake looked at him carefully. He looked like he usually looked: bald on top, shaggy gray hair on the sides, round cheeks, Hawaiian shirt, faded jeans, and sneakers. "How did you get here?"

"I was thinking about you. I do that a lot. Then I was thinking about talking with you. Then I was talking with you. Then, poof, I was here, like magic."

"This is weird," whispered Jake.

"Very," said Leon.

Leon looked as if he was trying to remember something, and then said, "I think this coming-back-from-the-dead-kind-of-thing is very rare. Usually, once you're gone you're gone, one-way ticket, no turning back, the die is cast, burn your bridges behind you, you can't go home again."

Thinking this over, Jake said, "That's probably good, otherwise it would get confusing who was here and who was there."

Grandpa Leon considered this and asked, "Where is there and where is here?"

"See. Confusing," said Jake.

"Anyway, good to see you, Jake!"

"Yeah, you too. I missed you."

Again, they fell into silence, trying to figure out what was going on and what to do next.

FOUR:
Are You a Ghost?

"Grandpa, are you... You don't think... Leon, are you a ghost?"

Leon's eyes grew wide again and his jaw dropped open. "Oooo. I don't know. Man, that would be scary. I'd scare myself! Remember that movie we saw last summer? I don't want to be scary like that. Shouldn't have taken you to that movie. What was it rated, anyway?"

Jake laughed, "You're not scary, Grandpa."

"Well, then maybe I'm not a ghost, not a poltergeist, a spirit, an apparition, a specter, a shade. Hey, maybe I'm the undead, a zombie, the living dead, the walking dead, a mummy, a vampire!"

"It's a totally awesome idea," grinned Jake, "but you don't smell quite as bad as the undead. So, what are you?"

Leon thought for a moment, and then said simply, "I'm in the afterlife."

"Then you must be a ghost of some sort. Cool, Grandpa. Can you fly around like a ghost?"

"How should I know? I'm new at this."

Jake got an inspired look in his eye. "Try," he said.

A sly smile crept across Leon's face. First, he stood up. Then he kind of squatted like he was about to jump into the air, but before doing anything else he lifted off the floor and floated around the room, bouncing lightly off the walls and ceiling like a big, old, hairy balloon animal. Leon just said, "Fun."

Running around below him, Jake was thrilled. "Can you go through walls?" he asked. At that, Leon looked at the wall behind the sofa and then (looking like a football player dashing for the goal) he shot towards it. He hit the wall, bounced off of it, hit the other the wall, banked off the floor, and headed for the ceiling. Jake could hear him making little noises like "Yikes. Owe. Whoa." When he got to the ceiling, he stopped bouncing - he went through it. But not quite all the way. It took Jake a moment to figure out just what he was seeing. There on the ceiling of the family room were Grandpa's legs, just his legs, dangling and kicking around like some broken ceiling fan. Panic swept over Jake. Where was Leon?

Jake looked at the legs swinging over his head and decided the rest of Grandpa must be upstairs. Like he was jumping hurdles in P.E., Jake charged up the stairs. He wasn't quite sure where he'd find his grandfather; he'd never thought about what rooms were above the family room. First he ran into his parent's bedroom. No Leon, not even under the bed.

Then he ran into the bathroom. At first he thought, "No Leon, again." But he was wrong. Sitting on the toilet was his grandfather. The thought "I didn't think ghosts had to do that" flitted through his mind, but now he saw he wasn't sitting on the toilet - he was sticking out of it! Water was dripping over his bald head, and he was grinning like the Cheshire Cat, the cat that swallowed the canary, like an idiot.

"No potty jokes!" he warned.

Jake became very serious and said, "Are you okay, Grandpa? You look pooped!" And Jake and Leon laughed like they hadn't laughed in weeks.

FIVE:
Higher, Drier Ground

After Leon managed to lift himself to higher, drier ground, he perched on the edge of the bathroom sink and said, "I don't think I'd make a very good ghost."

"If you're not a ghost, what are you, Grandpa?" Then with great admiration for his grandfather, he said, "I think you're an Angel."

Leon smiled at the compliment, but said, "Oh, I doubt that. Angels are way too special for this old guy to be one. But thanks anyway."

From downstairs, Jake heard his mother calling up. "Jake, who are you talking to? What are you doing up there?"

"Nothing, Mom."

"I heard a lot of noise and running around."

"I just really, really had to go - bad."

His mother didn't say anything, but Jake could hear her walking back to the kitchen. "Grandpa, I've been wondering, what happens when you die?"

"I wondered that too. Man, talk about something hard to describe! It's really interesting though! You might feel nothing, at first; then, you'll feel happy. There might be this neat light that shines on you that's so pretty you want to run to where it's coming from and jump into it like a swimming pool on a hot day. It seems like you get to see some old friends or family who died before you did, and maybe they show you around."

"You don't seem very certain about any of this. Didn't you go through it?"

"Oh, yeah, it's just that when you're here, on this side of life, it's a little hard to remember the details of the other side of life. Or maybe there aren't a lot of details. Maybe it's just one big feeling of happiness."

Jake remembered, "Like when your mom or dad hugs you?"

"Yeah, sort of like being hugged by your mom and dad all the time."

"Who hugs you when you're gone?"

"I guess I'd have to say God."

Jake was very impressed with this. "You've actually met God?" he asked.

"Well, yes and no. I think I am God."

"What?" Jake nearly shouted. "You are God?"

"Well, yes and no. Maybe I'm a tiny part of God."

"Like his head?"

"More like his toenail or a hair in his nose," said Leon, smiling. "No, it's more like God is Everything, and I'm part of Everything, therefore I'm part of God. Have you studied logic in school yet?"

"No, I'm not logical yet. So when you died, where did you actually go?"

"Back to God."

"And where is God?" Jake asked.

"I suppose I'd have to say everywhere since God is Everything."

Jake's brain was beginning to get a little tired from thinking too hard, but he said anyway, "How can you still be you, and also be part of Everything?"

"That's a simple one. A raindrop is still a drop of water, but when it falls into the ocean, it's also part of the whole ocean."

"This is totally confusing," said Jake. "Then what's the difference between being alive and being dead?"

It appeared that Leon was stumped for the moment by this complex theological question asked by an eight-year-old. Then he perked up and said, "The difference is just your point of view!"

"Okay, you're going to have to explain that one."

Join us next month for the second half
of Grandpa Leon Comes Back!

© Ken Lambert, 2007

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Ken Lambert is a playwright, actor, and director who recently moved from New York City, with his wife and eight-year-old son, to rural Virginia where he works with Hampton Roads Publishing Company and directs plays with area professional theatres, colleges, and theatrical organizations.