“Peyton honey, put the basketball away come inside and help us go through your granddad’s things” Peyton's mother shouted out the backdoor.

Through a huff and a puff Peyton reluctantly gathered up her old worn in basketball, her water bottle, and her cell phone that had been playing her music. She started back inside her house after nearly three hours of running drills in her own personal practice session.

She constantly worked on her skills as a player, but today it was more of a way to avoid having to deal with her feelings. Her granddad Paul had been just the absolute best. He was the one who had introduced her to basketball.

Some of her first and favorite memories were with her granddad, either sitting on his lap watching the “beautiful game” as he often called it, or him teaching her the game through little simple drills. "They build the fundamentals.” She could still hear him say those words.

She didn’t want to go inside. She didn’t want to have to face the fact that he was gone. Deep down though she knew that avoiding it wouldn’t make his loss any less real. Right now though it felt better than the truth of him being gone.

Peyton was very lucky. She was eighteen years old and this would be the first family death she had ever had to face in her life. Of course she knew that her granddad was older than any of her other grandparents. Older by over twenty years. As he had been well over ninety.

Peyton walked through the door and sat her basketball on it’s shelf near the door. She slipped her old black converse tennis shoes off and lined them up along the wall like everyone else did when they came inside the house.

She walked through the kitchen and into the large living room where boxes and boxes of her granddad’s old stuff sat.Peyton’s mom and dad sat around a table in the living room and poured through boxes, as Peyton’s grandmother Gail who was her dad’s mother dabbed at her eyes as she sat in a recliner and looked through old photo albums.

Peyton could almost feel the sadness in the atmosphere, still she could hear her granddad say “best way to get finished with something is to get started on it.” So she asked her parents “where should I start?”

Her grandmother Gail waived her over to her side as she put down the photo album. Once Peyton was nearby her grandmother put an arm around her and hugged her “sweetheart your granddad made a box just for you. Things he wanted you to have. I put it up in your room so you could have some privacy to look through those things.” She paused and wiped tears from her eyes. “There is also a letter just for you honey.” With that her grandmother stood up and kissed Peyton on the cheek and turned her loose to walk upstairs to her room.

As she walked toward the stairs that would take her to her bedroom, she noticed the look her parents gave her. It was a look that told her everything she needed to know. It would be hard going through the box in her room, but it was her granddad’s good bye to her.

Then just before she got to the stairs her mother stopped her by grabbing her hand. “Baby you don’t have to do it alone. I or you dad can come with you.”

“It’s ok mom, it’s just a box of old junk. I’ll be ok” she paused trying not to choke on her emotions. Trying so hard not to cry in front of her mother. “I promise I’m good” and with those words she started up the stairs.

On the inside Peyton wanted nothing more than to curl up in a ball and die. She wanted to cry, or scream. She wanted to purge herself of the horrible feelings she had locked inside, she just didn’t know how.

As she opened the door to her room she noticed the large cardboard box on her bed. It was taped shut but sitting on top was no doubt the letter her granddad had written to her. She took the envelope in her hands and through the beginning of a stream of tears she whispered “really granddad a letter, who writes a letter any more?”

She opened the envelope up and unfolded the single white piece of paper on the inside and began to read it.

Bunny, She hated that nickname only Granddad could call her that.

Bunny,
I know you’re probably griping because I wrote you a letter, because no one writes letters anymore. Well baby girl that's a real shame because it’s truly a lost art. It shows a personal touch that I feel is missing in the world you are growing up in.

I wrote this letter when you first went out for the basketball team. Just so you know I knew then that my mind was slipping away from me and I wanted to get this down on paper while I was still sharp enough to put something down that meant something important.

I have no idea how long I lasted after I wrote this letter. I hope I didn’t linger too long. It was never my style hold on too long. I always had a sense of when it was time to get off the stage. Wilt always said it was one of my best qualities.

What I have to say here is really very simple, but very important. Bunny I have lived a long and prosperous life. I have seen so many wonderful things and had more than any one man could ever reasonably ask for without being greedy.

I have left behind a wonderful legacy in all the wonderful people I leave behind. You above all make me the proudest. You remind me an awful lot of me when I was younger. Your tenacious, go getter attitude. Your never say die mentality makes me oh so very proud. I have no doubts that you will go on to heights that even I could never dream of reaching.

I also know the hardship it has been for you to play the game we shared for your entire life. Your short stature and slight frame make it hard to be taken seriously on the court and I know that you above all else want to be taken seriously on the court.

Bunny, basketball always came pretty easy to me. I had the height and the size to play almost any position on the court. I played in a time when the game wasn’t quite so fast but size was still a big deal.

I had hoped that you would have my or your father’s height, but you didn’t. Still your skills were hard to deny, so I had hoped that you would carve out a place for yourself in the game you loved.

Perhaps you have since your freshman year. I doubt I ever got to see you grow into the amazing young woman you are as you read this letter. If I did I doubt I remembered any of it.

Either way in the box you will find a lot of the things, most importantly though are my original Converse All Stars that I wore during my rookie season in 1956 with the St. Louis Hawks. Hopefully you will grow into them someday, and no matter what I love you.

Love you Bunny,

Your Granddad
Paul Andrews

Peyton was a little confused by the letter’s ending, but having a pair of her granddad’s actual shoes from his playing days was beyond awesome.    

So Peyton put the letter down and went about opening up the box that sat upon her bed.

Immediately she saw the old Chuck Taylor's they had her granddad's number 8 stitched into the heel. The number was just one more thing the two shared as that was Peyton's number as well.

She took them out and placed them gently on the bed as she looked through the rest of the box.

There were trophies, and awards. Pictures of her granddad with a who's who of NBA hall of famers. Each of them signed to her Granddad Paul “Highrise” Andrew's. It was amazing to see her granddad among all the games greats.  

She had know he had played in the league and even coached a little in college but not that he had known all of these people so well.

“Wow” was all she could say as she looked through an album in the bottom of the box. Her granddad had played in the league until the late 1960’s when his knees and back were just starting give him trouble.

He had been a defensive specialist who scored just enough to keep him in the league. There was even a championship ring in the very bottom of the box.

The ring went right next to the shoes. It was amazing to learn all this about a man she thought she had known pretty well to start with.

She had so many questions. The only people she could ask would be her dad and her grandmother, and now may not be the best time.

So Peyton decided to look the ring and shoes over. The ring was a 76’ers  ring from their 1967 championship. One of the few years during the era when the Celtics didn't win. That would have meant that her granddad played with the great Wilt Chamberlain at the end of her granddad's career.  

Then the realization hit her that the Wilt from the letter she had read was none other the all time great. “That's so cool” she said out loud.

She slipped the ring on her finger and it spun loosely on her finger. She tried each finger and the only one even close to being the right size was her thumb but even then it didn't really work.

She sat the ring back on her bed as she turned her attention to old tennis shoes. They were cotton fabric, with leather, and rubber soles.

The shoe laces looked worn but still good. They looked really big in her hands. She looked for a tag that showed the size. It was printed right on the shoes tongue. Size 15, her granddad had indeed been a really big man.

It was funny to think about it, now that he was gone. She had always known he was tall but she just never realized how really tall he was.

Still with his shoes being so much larger than her feet she wondered how her granddad had ever figured that she would ever fit into them.

Her feet were barely a size 7 in girl sizes. Just for fun she sat down on the bed and slipped them onto her feet and laced up the laces and tied them. They hung loosely off her feet.

She laughed at the absurdity of their size compared to her own feet. Still one last bit of fun she stood up in them and looked down at the shoes on her small feet. She wiggled her toes and they barely made it halfway down the shoe.

“How cool would it be if I was big enough to fill these shoes” Peyton wondered aloud? “I bet I would be a starter then.”

It was a likely bet since her small size was what kept her from being everything she wanted to be as a player. “To bad that'll never happen.”

She stopped talking then as she felt a sharp surging  pain in both of her feet. She could feel sweat bead up on forehead. Sweat began to run down her face and shoulders. She could feel little beads trickle down her small breasts and between her hint of cleavage.

Her knees felt weak and for a moment she was afraid she was going to fall. “What's happening to me” she asked out loud.

Her heart threatened to beat out of her damp workout t shirt. She hadn't sweat this much doing her drills. She worried for maybe a brief moment that she was having a panic attack or something worse.

It's when she feels the bottom of her feet and her toes sliding forward inside the shoes that were much too big for her that she really started to freak out. “Are my feet getting bigger” she nearly shouted.

She wiggled her toes and sure enough they touched further down toward the end of the shoe as her feet continued to move into unoccupied areas of both shoes.”This can’t be real” Peyton said as her toes began to touch the end of the large shoe.

Her shock was broken by the same shooting pain she felt in her feet work it’s way up her legs. More sweat began to form all along her body. “Oh no, no, no more please” she mumbled as the bones in her lower legs began to stretch. Then her upper legs also began to extend.

Peyton gasped loudly as she felt her short workout shorts first tighten around her thighs just before they began to rise up her thighs toward her waistline. The legs of her shorts began to split along the seams, and fabric started to tear and rip as her legs continued to grow longer and push her upward in height.

Then the pain moved up to her waist and it broadened and tore the waistband of the shorts apart. Her buttocks swelled and filled out, along with her thighs and calves which caused the shorts to rip apart even more.

Not that she could focus on any of that as the pain moved it’s way up her torso and chest. Her shirt began to rise up her midsection as her upper body grew longer. Peyton’s breasts swelled slightly but still enough that it popped her bra straps and her clasps.

Her shoulders grew wider and her arms lengthened along with her fingers. All the growth caused the shirt she wore to cling tightly to her body. Tight as it was though it continued to slide up her toned abs and upward to her ribcage. The side seams began to pop all along the sides of the shirt. The sleeves rose up her biceps and ripped apart as they reached her shoulder joint.

The pain started to ebb away and Peyton hoped that the growth was over. She couldn’t believe what had just happened. It was beyond weird. Things like that just didn’t happen. She looked at herself in her dresser mirror and she had to be nearly seven feet tall. She reached up and easily touched the ceiling.

Still panic was nearby as she had no idea how she was going to explain any of this to her family downstairs. She also wasn’t sure if it was permanent. She wondered what would happen if she took her shoes off.

She loved the height even if it was completely unexpected, so she didn’t want to go back to the way she was just moments before. She didn’t know how her granddad had done this but it was easily the best parting gift anyone could have given to anyone. She couldn’t wait to try out this new body on the court. She would be unstoppable, she just knew it.

She just knew she couldn’t keep the shoes on all the time and so that would be the first test. She untied them and slipped them off her giant boat like feet and...