‹ Prequel: My 'Cool' Grandpa
My Un-'Cool' Half-Brother
The Funeral
RECAP
December 27th, 2052
"The world mourns as world renowned drummer, Tre Cool, dies aged 80 on 27th December, 2052.
His granddaughter, Mrs Rosie Armstrong-Cool, found Mr Cool dead in his Oakland mansion. He is believed to have died peacefully in his sleep.
Fans all over the world are already mourning for the loss of this amazing man."
March, 2053 Rosie's POV
Sitting in the car with Jack, Frankie and Jimmy, we drove away from the church. Jack and I were crying and holding each other's hands. Grandpa had been cremated with his favourite drum kit, just as he wanted. We still had a memorial to him in the churchyard, though.
I looked into the backseat, Jimmy was asleep and Frankie was looking at me.
"Mommy, where Ganpa?"
My Un-'Cool' Half-Brother
Rosie's POV
Jack and I got out of the car at Billie's house. He had insisted we hold the wake there. I lifted a sleeping Jimmy out of the car. Jack lifted a babbling Frankie out of the car.
"Dada, where Ganpa?"
Jack swallowed, his eyes misted with tears. "Grandpa had to go away for a while," he whispered, hugging her. He shifted Frankie's weight onto his right arm and grabbed two tissues with his left. We both wiped out eyes and made our way to the front door.
Billie opened the door. In turn, he gave us both hugs.
"How're you holding out?"
"OK. You?"
"About the same," he gave us a teary smile. "If you like, you can go and out Jimmy and Frankie upstairs."
"That'd be great. We'll be back in a second. Thanks." I walked upstairs, Jack close behind me. We put the twins in their cots upstairs. Billie and Adie loved looking after them, and had given them their own little room. I remembered how much fun we had had decorating it. I was eight months pregnant and Billie, Adie, Jack, Grandpa and I had decided to finally decorate the room.
Billie and Grandpa had wanted to paint it red and black, in their signature motif, but Jack, Adie and I were disapproving, they were babies, not teenagers. In the end, we had a mix of whites, creams, greens and yellows.
We had painted the room white (after Grandpa had tipped an entire bucket into the swimming pool, filled balloons with paint with another bucket and tipped a third bucket over Billie's head) with yellow ducklings and green flowers and water lily type things. To pacify Grandpa and Billie, we had let them paint the Kerplunk flower on one of the walls.
We were all incredibly pleased with it, no one more so than Grandpa. Then, of course, he had tipped the remainder of the paint into Billie Joe's shampoo bottle. I smiled; remembering how shocked Billie Joe had been when he walked out of the shower to find his hair was a strange kind of greeny-brown. Billie chased him round the garden, but ended up falling in the swimming pool, which was still full of white paint.
Jack and I were leaving the room when I spotted a toy on the floor. Even before I could make it out entirely, I was sure I knew what it was. Or rather, who it was.
Mr Whirly.
I remember sleeping over at Grandpa's house one night. I woke up in the morning and I heard weird noises coming from his room. I went in and Grandpa was jumping up and down on his bed.
After the initial shock (and after I stopped laughing), I looked closer and I realised he was jumping up and down on a soft toy, a monkey. I went in and asked him what he was doing.
His exact words were, "Mr Whirly bit me and stole all my ice cream and then he said that I wasn't a good drummer anymore and that I sucked and he was going to take my place in the band 'cause Mike and Billie hate me but I said that he couldn't 'cause he doesn't have thumbs and he said he'll use his mouth or his feet to hold the sticks but that's MY job and I don't like him anymore!!! He will be punished! He will he will he will!"
He ran downstairs and threw the monkey in the fire place and started giggling.
I smiled again as I remembered how angry Grandpa had been when Mr Whirly kept showing up; when he was in hospital, when we were in Milton Keynes for Green Day's final gig, heck, he'd even been at Jack and my wedding. Emma had insisted that he was my 'something old'.
Grandpa had laughed. "Emma, I'm the only something old Rosie will need."
My smiles turned to tears as I placed Mr Whirly into the cot with Frankie. I had always thought that Grandpa's favourite out of the twins had been Frankie. I don't know why, but they just seemed joined at the hip, they were so like each other, it was amazing. That was probably why she missed him so much, like I did. I kissed her forehead and began to walk out.
Jack stopped me as I was going out of the door. He pulled me into a hug.
"Don't worry Rosie. I'm here for you. Everything will be OK." We stood there for several minutes, until the doorbell rang and we realised where we were. Jack pulled two more tissues out of his pocket.
"It pays to be prepared," he smiled weakly as he handed me the tissue. Again, we wiped our eyes. We walked downstairs. I barely stifled a gasp. Standing in the hallway with Mike and Billie, was.... my father.
Billie saw the look on my face.
"Um, Rosie, I think you need to talk to this guy."
He turned towards me. His face was almost exactly like my father's, except for his eyes. He had deep brown eyes, whereas Dad's were a brilliant blue, like Grandpa's.
"Are you Rosie?"
"Y-yes. Who are you?"
"I'm Edwin, but everyone calls me Eddie."
"Oh. How did you know my grandfather?"
He chuckled grimly. "I'd never met him, nor my father. My mother wouldn't let me. She said they were trouble."
"I'm sorry?" I was confused. Who was this man?
"Tre Cool... " He sighed. "Tre Cool was my grandfather. Rosie, I'm your half-brother."
December 27th, 2052
"The world mourns as world renowned drummer, Tre Cool, dies aged 80 on 27th December, 2052.
His granddaughter, Mrs Rosie Armstrong-Cool, found Mr Cool dead in his Oakland mansion. He is believed to have died peacefully in his sleep.
Fans all over the world are already mourning for the loss of this amazing man."
March, 2053 Rosie's POV
Sitting in the car with Jack, Frankie and Jimmy, we drove away from the church. Jack and I were crying and holding each other's hands. Grandpa had been cremated with his favourite drum kit, just as he wanted. We still had a memorial to him in the churchyard, though.
I looked into the backseat, Jimmy was asleep and Frankie was looking at me.
"Mommy, where Ganpa?"
My Un-'Cool' Half-Brother
Rosie's POV
Jack and I got out of the car at Billie's house. He had insisted we hold the wake there. I lifted a sleeping Jimmy out of the car. Jack lifted a babbling Frankie out of the car.
"Dada, where Ganpa?"
Jack swallowed, his eyes misted with tears. "Grandpa had to go away for a while," he whispered, hugging her. He shifted Frankie's weight onto his right arm and grabbed two tissues with his left. We both wiped out eyes and made our way to the front door.
Billie opened the door. In turn, he gave us both hugs.
"How're you holding out?"
"OK. You?"
"About the same," he gave us a teary smile. "If you like, you can go and out Jimmy and Frankie upstairs."
"That'd be great. We'll be back in a second. Thanks." I walked upstairs, Jack close behind me. We put the twins in their cots upstairs. Billie and Adie loved looking after them, and had given them their own little room. I remembered how much fun we had had decorating it. I was eight months pregnant and Billie, Adie, Jack, Grandpa and I had decided to finally decorate the room.
Billie and Grandpa had wanted to paint it red and black, in their signature motif, but Jack, Adie and I were disapproving, they were babies, not teenagers. In the end, we had a mix of whites, creams, greens and yellows.
We had painted the room white (after Grandpa had tipped an entire bucket into the swimming pool, filled balloons with paint with another bucket and tipped a third bucket over Billie's head) with yellow ducklings and green flowers and water lily type things. To pacify Grandpa and Billie, we had let them paint the Kerplunk flower on one of the walls.
We were all incredibly pleased with it, no one more so than Grandpa. Then, of course, he had tipped the remainder of the paint into Billie Joe's shampoo bottle. I smiled; remembering how shocked Billie Joe had been when he walked out of the shower to find his hair was a strange kind of greeny-brown. Billie chased him round the garden, but ended up falling in the swimming pool, which was still full of white paint.
Jack and I were leaving the room when I spotted a toy on the floor. Even before I could make it out entirely, I was sure I knew what it was. Or rather, who it was.
Mr Whirly.
I remember sleeping over at Grandpa's house one night. I woke up in the morning and I heard weird noises coming from his room. I went in and Grandpa was jumping up and down on his bed.
After the initial shock (and after I stopped laughing), I looked closer and I realised he was jumping up and down on a soft toy, a monkey. I went in and asked him what he was doing.
His exact words were, "Mr Whirly bit me and stole all my ice cream and then he said that I wasn't a good drummer anymore and that I sucked and he was going to take my place in the band 'cause Mike and Billie hate me but I said that he couldn't 'cause he doesn't have thumbs and he said he'll use his mouth or his feet to hold the sticks but that's MY job and I don't like him anymore!!! He will be punished! He will he will he will!"
He ran downstairs and threw the monkey in the fire place and started giggling.
I smiled again as I remembered how angry Grandpa had been when Mr Whirly kept showing up; when he was in hospital, when we were in Milton Keynes for Green Day's final gig, heck, he'd even been at Jack and my wedding. Emma had insisted that he was my 'something old'.
Grandpa had laughed. "Emma, I'm the only something old Rosie will need."
My smiles turned to tears as I placed Mr Whirly into the cot with Frankie. I had always thought that Grandpa's favourite out of the twins had been Frankie. I don't know why, but they just seemed joined at the hip, they were so like each other, it was amazing. That was probably why she missed him so much, like I did. I kissed her forehead and began to walk out.
Jack stopped me as I was going out of the door. He pulled me into a hug.
"Don't worry Rosie. I'm here for you. Everything will be OK." We stood there for several minutes, until the doorbell rang and we realised where we were. Jack pulled two more tissues out of his pocket.
"It pays to be prepared," he smiled weakly as he handed me the tissue. Again, we wiped our eyes. We walked downstairs. I barely stifled a gasp. Standing in the hallway with Mike and Billie, was.... my father.
Billie saw the look on my face.
"Um, Rosie, I think you need to talk to this guy."
He turned towards me. His face was almost exactly like my father's, except for his eyes. He had deep brown eyes, whereas Dad's were a brilliant blue, like Grandpa's.
"Are you Rosie?"
"Y-yes. Who are you?"
"I'm Edwin, but everyone calls me Eddie."
"Oh. How did you know my grandfather?"
He chuckled grimly. "I'd never met him, nor my father. My mother wouldn't let me. She said they were trouble."
"I'm sorry?" I was confused. Who was this man?
"Tre Cool... " He sighed. "Tre Cool was my grandfather. Rosie, I'm your half-brother."