Friday November 12th, 2080: Late Night
Rodriguez Residence
"Grandpa?" Lori's little voice called out. Randy was jarred back to reality; apparently he was dozing off. "Kids, your great grandfather is very tired it seems Perhaps you should all go to sleep and we can continue this story in the morning?" Over time he became used to being called grandpa by his great grand children. He figured since it was easier to say, then they could just keep calling him that. He looked over at his wife, who looked very concerned. She had her tiny hands wrapped up over his giant right one. He attempted to take in a deep breath, despite his lungs struggling to hold a good amount of air.
"Your great grandma is right kids. I'm very exhausted and I could use some rest. By God, it's nearly midnight! Kol?" he asked. "Hmm?" Randy waved his free arm around at the kids. "Can you please escort these fine children to their rooms? I will douse the fire and be waiting in our own." "Of course." "Come on kids, to the bedrooms." All of them started to complain about not being tired, or that this was an unfair decision. When Randy stood up, he propped most of his weight on the walking cane.
Very quickly, he dumped some dirt over the fire, smothering the flames. Once he was happy enough about the security of the fire, he left. Outside of the study room was a long hallway, which stretched on for a while. Tacked into the floor was a thin red carpet, ending at the opposite side. All along the right hand side were an array of plants and windows, something that Kolleen picked up as she got older. Every few feet there was a round, dug out section where a bench was placed. The walls were red as well, all leading up to the cathedral-like ceiling. Patrick Rodriguez had been very religious, as were the rest of the family. A painting had been cast along the ceiling of Jesus and his disciples. Past this painting was that of the Heaven's lights, breaking through a thick cloud.
The very last painting was just like the Sistine Chapel, where God's and Adam's fingers were touching. "The Creation of Adam is such a magnificent work of art," Randy said as he walked down the hallway. The left side was all dug every few feet to make room for bookshelves. It took Randy nearly five minutes to reach the end of this hallway, and by then his chest was aching as it did before. He cursed, clutching a piece of his shirt tightly for a few brief seconds. When the pain decided to subside, he thought it was best to get upstairs. The room at the end of the hall was just one big circular area, with a windowed door to the right and a tall white staircase on the left.
Past the staircase, down another long hall lay the kitchen/dining room. When Randy took the first couple steps he stopped to look at some photographs on the wall. It was like a family tree starting with a very old set of couples. One was of a tall man with a thick beard standing next to a woman with very bright eyes. A golden line had been tied to its base, connecting with another that went to the photo to its left. This was of a different couple consisting of a short light haired man with a taller, dark haired woman. The line went down a bit and curved to the left which connected to another.
These photos were a bit more updated as the new generation of Rodriguez family continued onward. This next picture was of his grandpa, Patrick with his wife Paula. Patrick had always been tall and built for the most part of his life. Under his nose sat a very thin, black mustache. Paula matched her husband as she had also been very tall and she reeked of feminine beauty. Her eyes were dark, the hair was light and skin was a dark color as well. Randy kept ascending the stairs, watching the gold line connect to another picture, which was in color this time. It was of his father and mother, both of which looked so happy.
His heart ached as he remembered her. "I miss ya Mom," he whispered, kissing his fingers and placing it on her face. He did the same for his father as well, saluting him following this action. It was now time to see his part of the family tree. He was half way up the stairs now, stopping again to catch his breath. Sweat had been beading on his forehead, forcing him to wipe it away. He absolutely hated being old, especially having to deal with chest pains, aching joints and bones, memory loss. It was all a part of growing up and it took him until he saw his own grand children to realize just how ancient he had become. And when his grandchildren were holding children of their own, then his fate had been sealed.
An oncoming picture was of himself and Kolleen, both of them were in their mid twenties, smiling brightly at the camera. Kolleen already had their kids, since each of them held a baby in one arm. Of course his family went on, with their golden line really testing its spot in time. Before Randy got a chance to look at it, Kolleen reappeared at the top of the stairs.
"Randy! Why didn't you wait for me to help you?" she exclaimed, nearly running down the stairs. She quickly put his free arm around her neck and helped him the rest of the way up. Straight ahead, a big hallway branched off to four separate bedrooms with one giant door at the very end. The twins slept separately on the right leaving Charlie to the first room and Lori in the second on the left. The ceiling above somewhat mimicked that of the study hall.
This time however, there were black rafters that connected to each other every few feet, which reminded Randy of a church. The walls were red, contrasting greatly with the darkened doors. An eerie glow emanated from the chandeliers hanging down. "Let's start walking, shall we?" Kolleen asked, helping him across the floor. "I can do it myself you know? You don't have to worry about me." "I know that. I just don't want you to get hurt. I know your heart." They were a quarter of the way across the hall, when she spoke up again.
"Do you remember when Lorie said she was having twins?" He nodded almost immediately. "Yeah, you nearly flipped your lid." She snickered at him, shaking her head as she added in her famous giggle. "Not as nearly as you though. You damn near killed her fiancé." They were now half way across the room. Randy's breathing started to become labored and raspy, worrying his wife like no other problem ever did. "What about when Robert announced his wife was pregnant? You know that Ellie, our granddaughter had the twins. Robert Sr. had married Laura Lang giving us Robert Jr. My God, we're getting old, aren't we Ran-Ran?"
"Indeed we are. I can't believe it! Great grandparents… It's ridiculous!" They were three quarters of the way there now. "I'll go open the door for you." "Don't worry too much about me. I still have some fire left in this tired, old body." She patted his back and slowly inched over to the master bedroom. When the door was opened, she quickly ran back and helped him inside. "There we are Ran-Ran, you're doing great." Their room was the biggest one in the entire house. A king sized bed, with red sheets and blanket stood at the opposite side. There was a heart shaped rug in the middle and to the right sat another fireplace made of cobblestone.
The loving wife helped her laboring hubsand into the left side of the bed and sat him down before taking off his moccasins. Once she was sure that he was alright, she quickly shut the curtains on the windows and hurried to her side. Randy whipped the blanket over his legs and pulled it up over his chest. No matter how much time had past, the immaculate splendor that was his wife, took his breath away. She saw him watching and slid gracefully into her side. The two of them looked at each other just smiling as hard as a person could possibly muster.
"Goodnight, Kol," he said, leaning his face over to her. She leaned in as well, kissing him passionately. "Goodnight, Ran-Ran." She turned off her bedside light which he did in turn with his. As he lay there, he waited until that pleasant woman was lightly snoring. When he was sure she was, he clutched his chest, closing his eyes tight from the small pain that welled inside it. Eventually he felt his brain nod off to sleep, with his hand still grasping down hard onto the covers.