So he gets up on the roof of their house every chance he gets. It started with retrieval of a frisbee, then an intentional roller skate toss, then his friend’s shoe. He gets a chair to start the ascent. Leans it up against the HVAC unit, climbs onto the unit, then pulls the chair up onto the unit, sets it on top of the steel box, then climbs on it again — this time ascending to the roof of the one-story house. The shingles are worn off where he climbs and the roof has a path-pattern where he walks the skies.
His grandmother, elderly beyond my knowledge, older than dirt, with white/gray hair down to her waist, wears man khakis and worn-out white cotton shirts, no shoes, comes outside when she hears footsteps above her while she works at the kitchen sink.
“You want to meet Jesus?!” she hollers up at the young kid. “You want to meet Jesus? Well, get down here or you’re going to meet Jesus when you fall off that roof. You ready to meet Jesus?”
He slowly ascends the chair/ladder and shakes his head, “No, ma’am,” as he watches her round the corner to the back door. He takes his shoe off, throws it onto the roof, and begins his ascent again.