Chapter 53: Knoa meets a stranger
The little kid peeked through his fist rubbing his eyes, which halted after hearing his father. He looked around, but couldn’t find anyone aside from the small figures he couldn’t even recognize from the distance.
His head then spun to Knox, his rounded eyes filled with innocence and bewilderment. Knox chuckled in amusement. He stood Knoa on the ground and settled his chin on his tiny shoulders, then he pointed at the gravestones before them.
"Knoa, these stones...are where your grandma and grandpa lie."
The kid’s mouth opened, and a glint of horror passed on his face as he promptly looked back at his father and shouted, "Papa, grampa, gramma, buried?! We...stepping on them! Papa, why?!"
His hysterical reaction almost sent Knox to the ground laughing on his stomach. A child’s ignorance of things sometimes is funny and adorable. He rubbed Knoa’s back and cleared his throat to erase any trace of laughter in his voice.
"It’s okay, baby. Grandma and Grandpa are sleeping underneath. And I’m sure, they are happy to see you here, so why don’t we lay the flowers on their stones?"
Knoa looked at the flower basket and poutingly asked, "But Papa, how...they smell flowers if they sleep? They won’t wake up?"
Knox started pulling the flowers from the basket and arranging them underneath his mother’s gravestone. He smiled as he remembered something from a book he read once, and he thought that it would be helpful to explain things to his son.
He began, "Grandma and Grandpa won’t wake up ever again. They would lie here until you grow up Knoa, but that doesn’t mean they won’t smell the flowers," he paused as he saw the kid’s confused expression. Is it early to tell him the concept of death? Knox asked himself.
Either way, he decided to explain further, "Knoa, they won’t be able to see them, but they are watching over us. So, I’m sure they can smell the flowers. They can be the wind that blows your hair, or the butterflies sniffing the flowers."
Knoa’s innocent eyes followed the mentioned butterflies that hovered around the flower basket. He sat on his butt and grabbed a daisy, the butterfly flew to it and his face beamed from his newfound knowledge, "They like them!"