They Robbed Their “Blind” Grandfather, Thinking He’d Never Know — But He Outsmarted Them All

Tensions immediately erupted when Alex’s blind and dying grandfather called the whole avaricious family to tell he was giving his riches to charity. His bedroom’s safe sat eerily open, tempting curious observers. Alex realized something was seriously up as each relative came into the room by themselves. His grandfather, however, disclosed a truth that altered everything when it was eventually his turn.

Alex was the black sheep, the outcast, in a family that hardly recognized him at the age of 19. His father remarried Karen after his mother died, bringing with her two snotty children and enough mental baggage to overwhelm a therapist.

Their opulent abode felt like a closet because of the way they stared at him, as though he were gum adhered to the bottom of their high-end shoes.

They only served to highlight Alex’s shabby ponytail and thrift store clothing with their immaculate hair and flawlessly coordinated ensembles.

Karen would pretend to smile sweetly and say, “Alex, wouldn’t it be more comfortable for you to eat in the kitchen?”

This was code for: You’re making me look foolish in front of my pals from the country club. His father would just gaze at his dish, captivated by a single stalk of asparagus.

The same was true of his cousins. Each of the six viewed family get-togethers as stepping stones toward their social goals, making small talk and seeming to smile at anyone who had a large fortune.

Alex frequently found himself in the kitchen assisting with dishwashing. They at least gave him human treatment. He was always given a substantial portion of Maria’s excellent chocolate cake, which she prepared for the family.

“Those folks out there?” She would give him a platter and wink. “They don’t realize what they’re lacking.”

However, Grandpa? He was unique. Despite starting the family’s fortune from scratch, he maintained his kindness and humility. He was never altered by the affluence.

The only one who actually saw Alex was him. Grandpa listened, supported, and instructed when everyone else disregarded him.

Grandpa was his mentor in everything from cultivating roses to finding comedy in difficult situations.

Grandpa and Alex would spend hours talking while sipping lemonade on the porch while the others were preoccupied with status.

On terrible days, he would say, “Remember, Alex, living well is the best revenge.” And occasionally a good practical joke.

It wasn’t until everything changed that Alex realized what that truly meant.

Grandpa became gravely ill that summer. His vision disappeared, and his health quickly deteriorated. He was soon bedridden. At that moment, the family came down, circling him like flies, their phony concern.

But Alex came every day to sit with him, read to him, and simply be there, not because of the rumors of an inheritance.

They began rereading The Count of Monte Cristo at Grandpa’s suggestion. In hindsight, Alex saw it could have been a hint.

Grandpa used to advise, “Reread the part where Edmund finds the treasure.”

Perhaps he had been attempting to contain his laughter.

Then the day arrived when everything changed.

A weak and raspy voicemail from Grandpa: “Meeting with family. Visit the house. Right now.

They rushed over. To get to the bedroom, they nearly tripped over each other. Alex lingered close to the door, standing back.

It was then that he saw the safe. It was open a little. It was never left that way by Grandpa.

His heart fell. It had been witnessed by everybody. Bella and Chloe, Karen’s girls, kept nudges and looks at it as if it were their lucky charm.

Grandpa started feebly, “I’m sorry I can’t see you anymore.” The doctors say I’m running out of time, yet I’d give anything to see your faces one more. I called you all here for that reason. I’ve finally decided to give my whole fortune to a worthy cause.

The ensuing quiet was more deafening than a cry.

Alex could practically hear their aspirations of lavish homes and trust funds being dashed. Ethan, his cousin, gasped aloud and fixed his gaze on the safe. Others hurried after, their gazes fixed on the small gap in the door.

They all had the same thought: If we take something, he won’t ever know.

Grandpa went on, “I want to talk to each of you in private.” “One by one. Who would like to go first?

Chaos ensued. Bodies surging forward, voices mingling.

“Enough!” Uncle Alex yelled. The oldest son is me. Let me go first.

It was evident from his tone that nobody would dispute it.

“Wait, Grandpa!” Alex attempted to speak, but Chloe and Bella pushed him away.

Alex observed from the hallway as each relative went into Grandpa’s room and came out grinning smugly, as if they had just won something.

His gut churned. He was fully aware of what was taking place.

The temptation was too great. They believed their sticky fingers were invisible to the blind elderly man.

The final person admitted was Alex. Nothing could be stopped by that point.

Ignoring the safe, he entered silently and sat next to the bed.

He held his hand and whimpered, “Grandpa, I’m not ready for you to go.”

His cheeks were wet with tears. Do you recall teaching me how to fish? I did not wish to cause harm to the worms. Or all those evenings when you showed me constellations while we watched the stars?

Grandpa whispered, “And you remembered them all.” “Just like when I was confined to this bed, you remembered to water my roses.”

He gave Alex’s hand a squeeze. “Alex, you’ve always had a kind heart. And the only person I could ever really trust is you.

Then an astonishing event occurred.

Grandpa took off his dark spectacles and gave him a direct look.

Sharp eyes. Unambiguous. Looking.

“You’re not blind, are you?” Alex let out a gasp.

Grandpa smiled and said, “Nope.” And I witnessed everything. Every avaricious look. All the cunning hands in that safe. They believed I couldn’t tell, but I was able to.

He gave the safe a nod. “Let’s check the remaining amount.”

As Alex opened it, his legs trembled.

It was totally deserted.

Grandpa laughed with joy.
He declared, “I filled it with ten million dollars in counterfeit currency.” And they took all of them. The actual wealth is all yours and is kept in a safe bank vault downtown.

Alex was unable to talk. His throat constricted.

Grandpa remarked, “I trust you to use it wisely.” And don’t turn around if you wish to leave this chaotic family behind. It has been years since I last glanced back.

A new medicine helped Grandpa’s condition start to improve a few days later. The physicians were taken aback. Alex wasn’t, though. Grandpa and other con artists are difficult to defeat.

Alex purchased two first-class tickets to Bali the following day.

The family exploded. Karen threatened legal action. His father insisted on a “fair share.” The cousins hurled all the insults they could think of.

Alex was indifferent.

With only their baggage and the satisfaction that justice had been done, he and Grandpa boarded the aircraft.

Alex is now sitting on a Bali beach in the sun, watching Grandpa instruct the local children in the art of making sandcastles. His pleasant, lively laughter drifts on the wind.

Would you please pass me another coconut, Alex? Grandpa yells. “A man becomes thirsty when he plans the ideal retaliation!”

After giving him the drink, Alex takes a seat next to him and watches the sky burn as the sun sets.

“Was everything worthwhile?” He queries. “Acting as though you’re blind? Configuring them?

Grandpa takes a sip and smiles. “Look around, little one. You’re grinning. You are at liberty. Additionally, they are most likely still at odds about Monopoly money. That’s worth everything, in my opinion.

With his eyes closed, Alex reclines and lets the wind caress him.

He now realizes that the finest form of retaliation is to live a good life.