Memory Spot- FB-FWG 300 word flash fiction based on the picture below. Trigger warning: Drug use. Comedy/Drama

Memory Spot

I could still hear the change jingle in his pockets as his size thirteen brown leather shoes stomped across the floor. Crisp mornings like these brought me to the half-rotten bench he placed under the lonely tree – in the same field where he taught me to drive his old yellow Cub tractor. 

     This was my memory spot. 

     I held a fallen branch, letting my freshly sharpened pocketknife remove layer after layer from the limb, forming a smooth surface. I could make whatever I desired out of it, another lesson from Pa. 

     “Brian.” I recognized his voice faintly calling.

     “Pa.” I whispered back. My subconscious tricked me often when it came to the old man.

     “Listen to me, son and don’t make any sudden moves.” 

     I slowly turned my head and there, standing amid the dried-out garden, hovering in the thick fog, was what appeared to be Pa. 

     “I’ve been sent back to tell you, everything you know about Heaven is true, except there’s one thing….” 

     I got up, took a step towards him; he took two steps back – warning me against seeing him. 

     “Don’t cross over, it’s not your time. Stay where the grass is green, and the trees produce leaves.” His tone quieted. 

     “What do I need to know?” I asked. 

     “The secret to Paradise – you must pay a monthly fee. Every good work done on Earth adds to your account, mine is now empty. Help me, Brian. Throw all the cash in your wallet over the threshold so I can pay my dues.” 

I took a deep breath, ran full speed ahead, and tackled my cousin. “I hate you, Heath! Get off the dope, already! You expected me to believe that grandpa returned from the grave and that I must subscribe to Heaven! Filthy Trickster!”