32.

I grin. There is a kindly sort of deviousness I dig about this prune. "Discretion is my middle name", I hiss between a wide sincere smile. He chuckles and there's a kind of glimmer in his eye that speaks bounds about his character. "Follow me", he whispers and starts to shuffle off. This old chap has definitely made up for that moron child, so I follow him inside. He starts to speak once I'm inside. He keeps shuffling on, not caring about the open front door. I don't care either. "Now, I rent this house for myself and my grand kids. I take care of them on account of their mother being my recently deceased daughter, rest her soul. Now their father being a no good piece of shit wound up in prison again. So, it came down to me to take care of 'em. I reckon you don't need to hear our sad sob story, but I'm sure it will shine some light on this whole mess. My grand daughter Lilly goes to the University of Washington. I couldn't tear her away from her studies so I moved out here, and dragged the boy with me. I found this place fairly cheap, but my pension's having a hard time paying for it plus what it takes to provide for two teenagers." At this point he's leading me through a run down kitchen to a set of stairs leading down to a basement. He fumbles around for a bit, but eventually he finds a light switch, and flips it. He shields his eyes from the newly lit bright light and braces himself on the banister as he starts to descend. The ancient wood moans from the pressure of his weight. I'm afraid it'll collapse and he'll plummet to his death. I wouldn't be surprised if the house fell down around us, given my luck. His tiny legs move slowly and with great purpose. Every movement seems grand and well planned. When the simplest task takes such effort I guess you don't take it for granted. He makes it to the bottom of the stairs and I let out a sigh of relief. "I'm glad you didn't die", I whisper. "What was that lad", he says with a hint of confusion.