Tag Archives: Uncle Steve

Relative Uncertainty: Part 2

I considered asking him if visiting my house would help him. In my “brilliant kid who’s starting his own engineering firm” identity, it made sense. Why would he come to visit me in the first place? I couldn’t help him.

That would have led to questions that I didn’t want to answer over the phone, especially if he’d known that my grandpa, his father, was the Rocket.

“Sure,” I said, “most of us are home tonight. So at least you won’t be alone.” Continue reading Relative Uncertainty: Part 2

Relative Uncertainty: Part 1

I put my dishes into the dishwasher, letting the door shut with a click. Despite the 80s look, which included big silvery plastic buttons surrounded by fake wood grain, it still worked. It worked better than my parents’ dishwasher in fact. Theirs tended to leave bits of food if you didn’t rinse the dishes before putting them inside.

It didn’t seem likely that 80s dishwashers were that much better (or longer lasting) than present-day appliances. I’d never taken it apart, but I wouldn’t have put it past my grandfather to stick alien tech or his own tech inside. It beat having to fix or replace the dishwasher. Continue reading Relative Uncertainty: Part 1

Memories: Part 3

Grandpa stared out at the water, not saying anything else.

“What precautions?” I asked.

Turning back to me, he said, “I don’t know. The regular ones they took with all of their families, but more than that on the advice of Gunther. He wasn’t there, but Joe mentioned his name.”

We talked longer than that, but he didn’t have anything more to add about the block, Grandpa Vander Sloot, or anything about the League. We talked about Grandma who’d taken the car into town to do grocery shopping. She didn’t know that Grandpa Vander Sloot was the Rocket or that I’d be flying in this morning. Grandpa Klein had chosen our meeting time to make sure she’d continue to remain ignorant. Continue reading Memories: Part 3