There is a tree in the middle of the cemetery which provides shade to those who sleep ‘neath the sod. The roots are deep and the tree is strong, with thick branches suitable for climbing—at least, that’s what Gabriel thought. His grandfather’s funeral was boring. So many people wearing dark clothes standing in the sun while one guy in white robes said things that mostly weren’t true—at least that’s what Gabriel thought. The grandfather he knew what a rough man who never smiled, as tall as a giant with rules, lot’s of rules, and you best follow the rules—at least that’s what Gabriel thought. So Gabriel left the recently upturned earth and climbed up the branches, from one to another, higher and higher, until he could see across the lake, beyond the dark parking lot, but not over the mountains. Unless he could get just one branch higher—at least that’s what Gabriel thought.