kinG of the road

40

red bumps. We returned home to drop them

off.

Now there were only four of us.

Granddad, of course, sat behind the wheel.

Tina banged pots and pans in the kitchen.

My sister took pictures, leaning out the

window. And I read the map. I tried to give

Grandfather William directions, but as

usual, he wouldn’t listen. When I told him

to turn left, he insisted on turning right.

“Don’t be a backseat

driver, Grandson!” he barked.

“I know where we’re going. You forget, I’ve

traveled all over the world. I have my

own map right here inside the old noggin.”

He tapped his head. “Yep, I’ve got a

memory like a steel trap. I can find my way

to the Swiss Cheese Islands with my eyes

closed. I can make it to Mouse Everest with