The Truth Is Coming


When the brave fall

I spent the morning with my G-Pops, throwing knives at an old stump in the corner of our backyard - my favorite thing in the world. He had been an Alpha trainer for GRIM (Group Retaliatory International Militia) nicknamed “The Reapers” in the late ‘60s. It’s covert stuff...really that’s all I know and that much I was sworn to secrecy. Not your typical Grandpa, I know.

My G-Pops is one tough dude. At 63 he’s in better shape than most men half his age. He’s constantly being mistaken for my dad by most at school. I think a few teachers would like to know him better...

I opened the kitchen door that led to the backyard. The muted sun traced a silhouette around me as I stood there motionless. My Grandfather’s body lay still in a pile of wet leaves.

Moments later I was in an Ambulance holding his hand begging him not to leave. The time between was gone, and a mist formed in my mind and blocked my thoughts.

I spent the next four hours in a small room with some drunk, (I hate drunks!) and a woman crying and laughing and talking some foreign language. A VERY long four hours!

Finally the Doc came in and took me to see my Grandpa. He looked like hell, like he had aged twenty years there in that room, but he was going to make it. That’s what the Doc said anyway.

We’re back home now and I’m taking care of him for a change. The Doc wants my Grandpa to come back in three days. He's not sure what caused him to go down like he did, so he wants to run more tests.

G-Pops the bravest man on the planet, but I could tell he was worried...I think he's not telling me everything.


  1. What kind of knives do you throw?

  2. Awh, I hope he feels better soon and that he's back on his feet in no time!


  3. All kinds! The two in the picture are homemade, but my favorite is G-Pop’s ballistic knife - (they’re against the law to own).

    Thanks Kate...He'll be up and bitchin' and complaining before long. Ha!