But Lloyd could still see his grandfather in the stern of his boat, leaving and returning, surely the sea would never kill him, perhaps his boat had failed him finally, but he must have made it to some isolated cay, some beach with no road access, and if any man could survive with just a fishing line and a knife, that man was his grandfather. So at least once a week, the boy went to the wall in the night and stared out to sea and waited for the old man, until the final night, when he gazed out to sea through sheets of rain.
*Big man = God