My dad had always forbidden me to spend the night or be alone at my grandfather’s apartment. Whenever I asked my father why, he simply shrugged and said I would understand when I grew older. Well, now I’m 35 years old, and guess what, I do understand, or at least I thought I did. During my teen years and well into my 20’s, I always assumed my grandfather suffered from some kind of mental illness - some of my friends even suggested that he was some kind of a creep, especially after what happened to my brother.
My grandfather spent a lot of time in Africa, and I do mean a lot of time. I only did see him in the summertime, when he came home to Denmark to visit me and the rest of my family. He always brought home gifts, so me and my brother were always looking forward to his visit. However, as the years went by, the gifts became stranger, and stranger. I do remember one time, when I was maybe 12 or 13 years old, my grandfather brought home some kind of lizard, which was preserved in a bottle of alcohol. He explained to me that the contents of the bottle would protect me, but how and from what I can’t remember. The only thing I do remember is my dads outrage about this strange gift.
My grandfather was a very handsome man, and you would never have guessed his real age. He was a real ladies man, and he seduced a lot of women, even some of my moms friends, which as I grew older, really impressed me, since they were half his age. When I think about it, I do remember some of my lady friends found him to be quite interesting and attractive. Everyone seemed to get along with him just fine, and this just added to my confusion about not being allowed to be alone at his place.
The apartment my grandfather lived in was a part of a larger building my father owned. The apartment was on the top floor and quite big and spacious. Most of the wood beams lay bare, and most the ceiling beams were covered in strange signs and letters. The place was always very clean and tidy - even when he was in Africa, this always puzzled me, since my father insisted that no one would come and clean. Throughout the apartment were a lot of artifacts, charms, relics and other strange stuff. One of the more exotic things was a beautiful wooden door, with a very realistic naked African woman carved into it. There were strange symbols and letters on most of the ceiling beams.
I remember my brother and I were always allowed to play with all the small figurines, games, charms and of course, dress in all of the funny africans outfits. There were only a few items we were forbidden to touch or play with - I do not recall how they looked, but they were all locked away in a glass cabinet . Only my brother was ever left alone at one time in the apartment when I was around 10 years old and he must have been around 12. I remember how shocked he was when me and my dad came back and found him by the glass cabinet, which he somehow had unlocked and opened.
After that day, my brother never wanted to return to the apartment. I never got a straight answer from him about what happened, and the few times I have brought it up and asked about what really happened, both my brother and dad asurres me my brother was simply frightened by something. If this was true, then why did my brother never visit my grandfather with me and my dad ever again - even when we were both adults? Surely whatever frightened a boy would not frighten a grown man?
We slowly lost contact with grandfather after that incident, he visited us fewer times, and almost stopped sending postcards. The gifts he brought became stranger still though, but after 4 or 5 years almost all contact with him had ceased. Only my dad talked to him on special occasions.
After many, many years, the day finally came, when I got the sad call about my grandfather’s death. He had died in Africa and apparently, he had been dead for some time. For this reason, my dad had to fly to Africa to handle my grandfather’s estate, and my brother chose to accompany him. My father asked me to check in on my grandfather’s apartment, but with the clear instructions that I was not to spend the night, or stay for any length of time. I of course asked why, but before completing my sentence, my dad said rather angrily with a sad tone of voice “just do as I say boy! Please…I..I’ll try to explain everything later…” and then he handed me a spare key - alright I thought, grandfather’s death had clearly hit him harder than I thought.
It is true what they say, time really flies, and it has been maybe 20 years since the last time I was in my grandfather’s apartment. The last time I was there was in my late teens, but I’m not sure.
As I parked my car and walked towards the staircase leading up to grandpa’s apartment, I was feeling rather strange, “of course you feel this way” I thought, “It has been like 20 years since the last time you were here..it’s only normal”, so I dismissed the feeling and went inside.
My grandpa’s home felt and looked exactly like I remembered, clean and tidy, “Amazing I thought”. I spent maybe an hour just walking around, looking at stuff and being very nostalgic - I even spotted the lizard bottle that my grandfather gave me all those years ago, and the birthday card still dangled by the side.
I sat down in the living room in front of the fireplace, the chessboard me and my grandfather used to play was, as always, sat up and ready to go. I moved some of the chess pieces and thought about how he had tried to teach me this complex game. I sat there for a while thinking about grandpa and all the strange stories he had told me and of course, about all of the gifts he had brought home, a small tear rolled down my cheek.
After I had spent what seemed like an eternity in my memories, I called my dad and told him that the apartment was nice and tidy, as always, and ready to be emptied. My dad told me not to touch anything and wait until he and my brother came home, so I decided to leave and head back to my place.
As I was walking towards my car, I bumped into one of my old childhood friends. We chatted for a while and decided to go out and grab a bite to eat. As often happens in Denmark, we indulged in a fair bit of alcohol. After some hours we decided to part company. When I came back to my car, I felt too drunk to drive anywhere, so I decided to spend the night at my grandfathers.
I walked up to the apartment, and walked inside. As it was only 9:30 PM or something, a bit too early to go to bed I thought, so I lit up the fireplace and proceeded to walk over to the liquor cabinet, and wow, was I pleasantly surprised. My dear old grandfather had a lot of nice whisky, rum and other funny looking bottles, with some weird signs on it.
“Surely they must be some kind of African tribal booze” I thought to myself.
I picked a bottle of whisky, a Chivas Regal 25 year old, not the most exotic bottle I could have picked, but I did really like the Chivas brand, and I had never sampled the 25 year old.
I picked up a nice and heavy crystal whisky glass, and was about to wipe it clean of dust when I noticed that it was dustless. “eh” I thought. Clearly grandpa had hired someone to come and keep his place clean and tidy. Afterall, my grandpa was very well off financially, and what other explanation could there be? Maybe my dad came and cleaned the place, the thought made me laugh a bit.
On my way back to the fireplace, I came across the Lizard bottle. It was a 70cl bottle, with a fully intact lizard inside, which filled almost the whole bottle. As I picked up the bottle, all of the scales from the lizard began to swirl around in the clear liquid, god it was disgusting I thought. As I opened the birthday card a small envelope fell out. I picked it up and looked at it. The envelope was of a newer date, but still felt kind of old. The letter was addressed to me “Too Karsten from grandpa”, so I brought it over to the fireplace.
As I sat down in the comfy armchair, I sipped the whisky and damn, that 25 Chivas Regal did not disappoint. It was very smooth and I could clearly differentiate all of the different notes in the whisky, the finish lingered on and was very pleasant. I opened the letter and started reading:
“Dear Karsten…” it read.
“I imagine you are reading this letter because I died in Africa. I love you Karsten, and always have, but first things first.
I know your dad has warned you many times about spending any length of time in my apartment. If by any chance you are at my apartment as you are reading this, please Karsten, leave now, and take the Lizard bottle with you. I will explain everything on the following pages…”
…
Next part will follow real soon, so stay tuned.
//Karsten, Denmark