160

The fat family trundled down the sidewalk, hoodies up against the cold drizzle, phones out and texting.  They shuffled or waddled or stopped to holler, depending on his or her way.  The large-headed dog strained on the end of his rope and chain, choking himself and earning a holler from one of the hoodies.  One of the smaller waddlers got too far ahead and elicited another holler, slightly harsher than that used on the dog, "You asshole!  Get back here!  Forchrisssake."

159

The Quizzical Cat died with a smile on its face and only Helpsome James knew why.

158

"Cranberry Hills!" cried Grandpa, startling us all at the breakfast table.  "That's where I left it!"  Grandpa went back to eating, but Mom was to embarrassed to enjoy any more of her cereal.  I wasn't nearly so sensitive; to me, this is the way Grandpa always was.  He thought about things left undone and when he finally remembered, it bubbled up and out.  Saying things out loud has a way of making them more permanent; I understood this.  I did it myself, but I could usually control the outburst if I wasn't alone.

"What did you leave, Grandpa?"  Mom glared at me with the look that said, Don't encourage him, but I really wanted to know.  After all, whether Mom acknowledged it or not, Grandpa was the most interesting member of our family.