Thirsty?" Grampy asked, never removing the pipe from his mouth.
" Yes," was my reply." How would you like to run over to the gas station there and get yourself a bottle of coke?"
I couldn't believe my ears. Had I heard right? Was he talking to me? On my family's modest income, coke was not a part of our budget or diet. A few tantalizing sips was all I had ever had, and certainly never my own bottle.
"Okay," I replied shyly, already wondering how I would get across the street. Surely Grampy was going to come with me.
Grampy stretched his long leg out straight and reached his huge hand deep into the pocket. I could hear the familiar jangling of the loose change he always carried. Opening his fist, he exposed a mound of silver coins. There must have been a million dollars there. He instructed me to pick out a dime. After he depositedthe rest of the change back into his pocket, he stood up.
"Okay," he said, helping me down the stairs and to the curb, " I'm going to stay here and keep an ear out for the babies. I'll tell you when it's safe to cross. You go over to the coke machine, get your coke and come back out. Wait for me to tell you when it's safe to cross back."
My heart pounded. I clutched my dimetightly in my sweaty palm. Excitement took my breath away.
Grampy held my hand tightly. Together we looked up the street and down, and back up again. He stepped off the curb and told me it was safe to cross. He let go of my hand and I ran. I ran faster than I had ever run before. The street seemed wide. I wondered if I would make it to the other side. Reaching the other side, I turned to find Grampy. There he was, standing exactly where I had left him, smiling proudly. I waved.
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