I can still smell the freshly cut lawn by the hands of my grandfather. Pa always took care of us, even after they both left. First, it was his son to hit the road. Ironically, I even think his name was Jack. We don’t really even talk about him now. We used to, a lot. But after my mom dropped, we all kind of shut up about the whole thing. It was just too tempting, you know? For all of us to sit around and feel sorry for ourselves. I don’t mean we never did, but when we did... we really did. When Pa would find out just exactly what was going on, he’d take us all outside. We would all take turns mowing that damn lawn right out of existence.