“And remember to listen to your grandmother,” The Boy's mother said as she headed off to work. It was what she always said. But what did his grandmother know of space stations and lost treasure? What did she know of superheros and spies?
The Boy obeyed his grandmother even though most of her orders only consisted of “Wash the dishes” or “Sweep the porch”. When The Boy came home from school he'd find her in the same spot she had been in when he left. She would be sitting in her chair at the kitchen table, a cup of strong black tea next to her, comfortable sandals resting half way off of her old, wrinkled feet, her glasses halfway down her nose, peering into a thick book full of words and totally lacking in pictures.
The only order of hers The Boy always looked forward to hearing was, “Go outside and play for awhile. Get the stink off of you,” which always came out less mean than it maybe sounds.
The Boy loved adventure. He often got his other friends in trouble. Not intentionally. He just tended to want to go further than others did. The Boy was never malicious or mean, just curious. Where does that lead? Who is that? Why is that there? All questions The Boy often felt driven to get personal answers to.