"Why is Gramma making mad pictures at you?" I asked Gramp. Gramp looked at me. "What pictures, Chum?" "Pictures in her mind like you're lazy. And like she wanted to hurt you," I said. Gramp's eyes got wide. He kept looking at me, and then he said, "Get your cap, Chum. We're gonna take a little walk." Gramp didn't say anything until we walked all the way to the main road and past Mr. Watchorn's corn field. I walked behind him, counting the little round holes his wooden leg made in the gravel. Fin