“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.
