City of Fire and Ink

Grandmas Are Scary Sometimes

The day my Grandad died, I was getting my nails done. Usually, I sat in front of the television, watching Arcane while waiting for the crappy drugstore polish to dry.

Not this time. This time, I was at a salon, where they charged me half of my hourly salary to remove every possible unneeded scrap of flesh from my fingertips and make my nail beds shine. I wasn't disappointed. The polish I picked bore an uncanny resemblance to liquid gold. Yeah, I know makeup is a tool of the patriarchy used to oppress women but damn if I didn't feel a little bit like a Greek goddess after that manicure.

I remember my phone rang, three times exactly. I didn't bother to get it because I didn't want to smudge my nails. Instead I went to a Starbucks and ordered a matcha latte. I was drinking matcha lattes years before they became the gateway drug for wellness insta reels.

It had been my friend Zoe's idea. We were at a coffee shop and saw a waiter pass our table with a huge tray of nothing but green drinks. She dared me to try it and I did. Turns out it only slightly tasted like grass, but even less so if you add sugar and my personal favorite, honey.

It was 37 minutes exactly after my manicure finished that I checked my phone. Three missed calls from Appa. Three voice mails.

Sojung. It's Appa. Sniff. Please come home right away. Something bad has happened to your grandpa.

Sojung. It's Appa. Where are you? Please call me, I'm very worried.

Sojung. As soon as you get this, call me. We need you at home.

From sitting outside the Starbucks, it took me 20 minutes exactly to get home. Pardahna is a huge city, but it's public transportation is one of the best in the world. It kind of has to be, shuffling over 6 million people to and from their houses every single day.

Our apartment was located off the southwestern side of Rumi Park, which is more like a tall hilltop then a park. Appa always loved being near nature and luckily enough, he won the lottery against dozens of other families and we got the apartment. With two bedrooms, it fit me, my little sibling Kayla, and my parents comfortably for my entire childhood. When I was a teenager, I complained about it being small after being invited to the parties of my wealthy classmates who had entire penthouses to themselves. It wasn't till I was older that I realized that our house was worth even more than those glittering penthouses, simply for its proximity to trees.

It could have been worse. In cities like Eril and Teras, the air quality from lack of nature is so bad people have to wear masks so they won't catch a respiratory infection from the pollution in the air. At least Pardahna has actual trees.

Appa sat at the kitchen table with his head in his hands. Omma stood behind him, her hand on his shoulder. "Appa, what happened?"

Looking up at me, the lines around Appa's face that usually meant laughter became sadness that wrapped him like a snake "Your grandpa was at work today. He was drinking his cherry martini and when Tina came in to get the glass, she found him in the floor, not breathing." Appa's eyes hollowed and I noticed that he tucked his shaking hands under the table.

"Is he ok?!? Was it a heart attack?!?"

Appa shook his head and kept talking. "Tina called the police. When they finally arrived, they said there was poison in his cup. It's been ruled a . . ." Appa choked on the last word. "Suicide." Appa started sobbing and I felt all of my insides clench with pain. Omma stood quietly behind him, her hand on his shoulder a solid steadying presence.

Tears pricked at my eyes. Harabeoji Seok drank a cherry almond martini after lunch every day so I came to associate the smell with him. Often in bakeries, I would catch a whiff of almond and think he was standing behind me, though he never was.