3. Lisa stood next to her tall silent grandfather and watched her parents drive off, leaving her behind. She looked up at her grandfather. He looked down at her. His skin was a little darker than hers. His hair was black and white, as if it couldn't decide which color it should be.
"You don't talk much, Grandpa," Lisa said.
"You don't visit much, Lisa," her grandfather replied.
They stood looking at each other. "Come with me, Lisa," said Grandpa. He started walking without looking back.
Lisa followed him to a large storehouse.
Lisa remembered her last visit to Grandpa's. She had played hide-and-seek with her brother Jack in the storehouse. But now Jack needed an operation. Lisa had to stay here alone for a few days.
"You coming?" Grandpa's voice sounded muffled. His words were coming from inside the storehouse.
Lisa went inside. The storehouse was full of all kinds of things. She could see him in the far corner. Lisa walked over and stood next to him. He pointed to a small wooden box with "Lisa" painted on it in bright green letters.
"Yours," he said.
Lisa bent down and opened it. In it were some old things—a bright blue feather, a tiny V-shape leaf and some dolls. She looked up at Grandpa, with tears in her eyes.
"The box stays here, but it belonged to you. No one else." Then he closed his eyes and smiled. His smile reminded Lisa of her father. Grandpa no longer seemed strange and silent.
"I may be so overcapitalized (过剩)," Lisa answered, carefully pronouncing the familiar word.
Grandpa laughed out loud. "How did that eight-year-old brain of yours find its way around a big word like 'overcapitalized'?"
"It's my dad's favourite word," Lisa replied.
Grandpa looked down at Lisa and smiled. His smile again reminded Lisa of her father. Without thinking, she reached up and took Grandpa's hand. Lisa's hand felt small and safe inside her grandfather's.
"I might need more than one visit to my box," Lisa said seriously.
"I expect," Grandpa said.