The American Dreamer: A Short Story

Tyler Young

Ms. Alston

English 2 H

October 2, 2014

The American Dreamer

As I peered outside the chilly window fogged up with my breath, I could see an endless rainstorm pouring down, each raindrop jumping off my grandparent’s driveway, which now consisted mostly of mud puddles. I quivered slightly and turned back to watch my grandpa drinking a cup of tea while looking at an old book. He was wearing a brown vest on top of a loose long-sleeve that covered his large stomach. His body has definitely been marked by the years, as his hair is white as snow, and his wrinkly hands showing as he turned the pages in the book. I moved from the sofa to stand to closer to his recliner and watched him look through the the mysterious book, his face smiling

as he turned the pages. As I walked towards him, I could smell a familiar scent of heat rub, and strong medicine. I looked at the book, which was filled with pictures of a small building and people that I’ve never seen before.
“Hey grandpa!” I said spiritedly, “what are you looking at?”
“Oh just some old pictures.

Care to take a look?”

We both moved to the sofa, and he began to show me the pictures.

“Do you know what this is?” My grandpa said to me while pointing at the small building.

“Nope. What is it?”

“Its a picture of the first store I opened in America.” He said. “When me and your grandma finally had enough money to move to America, we decided we should start a business.”

I have never heard of this story before, and I began to find myself gaining interest. I’ve never known what my grandparents did for a living after they moved into a place foreign to them. He asked me if I wanted to hear how he started his store, and I answered yes. Before telling me his story, he placed his picture book on the coffee table and went into the kitchen to refill his teacup.

“Do you want a cup of tea?” he asked me.

“Yeah, ok sure. Thanks!”

He got out the fresh tealeaves that he bought that morning, and began to prepare it with extensive care. He started off by filling the kettle with cold water. He always liked to start it this way to ensure that the tea will have all of its flavor. After the water was boiling he then placed the tea leaves into a teapot. He finally poured the perfect brown liquid into our cups and came back to the living room and placed our drinks on the coffee

table.
“Now, then. Where should I start?” my grandpa said as he picked up his picture book.
He began telling his story from his days in China, to the day he finally opened his store. He told me he had to work from 4:00am to 9:00pm everyday to make sure he had enough money to pay for family to go to America. He was determined that his family would have a much better life in America. My grandpa worked as a delivery driver and construction worker, while my grandma stayed home to look after my dad, my two uncles and two aunts.

As he was telling his story, his face was in nostalgia as if he was reliving the memories as he turned the pages.