Grandpa’s scar’s

It was a hot summer afternoon, mid-July, and the family reunion was going great. All the grandkids were having fun; some of them were hiking out in the words, and some were playing games, both video and board, inside the cabins or out on the park tables. Most of them were enjoying the pools and hot tub. There was a small kiddy pool and a big pool that went down to seven feet with a water slide at the deep end. It was hard to get an exact number of how many people were there; there were cousins, aunts, uncles, grandkids, and great grandkids, step sisters, and half brothers. Grandpa Ottinn, was taking a nap on one of the white wood and plastic mix pool side chairs. He had his chair set flat, and he was in his noidic white and black swim trunks, with raven and wolf designs, laying flat on his stocmach. His hands crossed under his head as he slightly snored. He was lean and fit with a reddish tint to his skin, but it was the scars that stood out. His entire body was covered with scars, they covered his back, legs, arms, and chest. They were also in distinct patterns so that it was clear they were not all accidental.

Thom, Finn, and Myrtle, three of his great grandkids were eating lunch in their swimsuits and towels two chairs down, the chair between them was empty and laying flat.

"I tell you, its the truth," Finn said with a mouthful of his second peanut butter and jelly sandwich. "He got the scars when he was fighting in the jungle during world war two. He was a prisoner and they tortured him with a knife."

"No, no, no. Don't be ridiculous." Myrtle said with a drastic shake of her head. "He is too young for world war two. It was the korean war, they tortured him, it was with a wood knife too. That is why the lines are not clear cut. That's what my dad says. He is the oldest, so its the truth." She started eating her cookies. They were girl scout cookies, and all five of her cookies were Samoas, her favorite.

Thom, the youngest of the three cousins at the age of seven, who had been listening to both Finn and Myrtle with his sandwich uneaten in his hand, sneaked another look at Grandpa Ottinn. Grandpa Ottinn's scars were the stuff of legend to him, Thom had a scar on the back of his hand from when he burned it on a camping stove three years back when he was helping mom cook breakfast, eggs and pancakes with strawberries and cream, his favorite. But, Thom's scar was just a blotch while Grandpa's was like the tattoos Thom had seen on the big guy in Moana. Moana was his favorite movie. "My mom says he did it to himself, that he was put of some kind of cult when he was younger, before he met grandma."

"No, that is ridiculous" said Mytle. Ridiculous was her favorite word since she learned how to spell it. "It was torture, what kind of person would do that themselves.

"The cookie people would," Thom said, pointing to Mytle's cookies.

Mytle stared at him. "The girls scouts do that?" She asked. "If that is case, I'm so so going to reconsider joining them."

"Lets go ask grandma! She should know!" Finn said excitedly, just finishing his sandwich. "I think she is making pancakes with strawbarries and cream!

All three of them went looking for her, and the pancakes.