"I didn't mean to do it, Grandpa," said the little girl, trying hard not to cry.
"I know." The old man kept digging the ground between the bushes behind the house using a rusty serving spoon. When the hole was big enough, he placed a tiny box inside it. "Want to speak some words?"
The little girl nodded. She moved closer and said: "I'm so sorry Mr. Snail. I didn't mean to crush you. I didn't see you. I didn't... I'm so sorry."
"Rest in peace," added the old man, and proceeded to cover the box with dirt.
"Will Mr. Snail ever forgive me, Grandpa?"
"Why wouldn't he? Mr. Snail knows it was an accident, and how sorry you are." He stood up and looked at his watch. "Your mother will be here soon. Let's go inside."
The little girl didn't move.
"Will you tell her?" she asked him.
"Only if you want me to. Do you?"
There was no answer. The little girl's gaze wouldn't leave the tiny mound.
"Is Mr. Snail going to Heaven, Grandpa?"
"No doubt Mr. Snail is there already."
"With Daddy?"
The old man shuddered. There was a quaver in his voice when he answered: "Of course."
"And will Daddy take good care of Mr. Snail?"
"I'm sure he will."
He offered her his hand. The little girl finally accepted to leave.
Just before entering the house, she said: "I miss him."
The old man opened the screen door and let the little girl go inside. He didn't want her to see his eyes getting watery again.
"So do I, sweetie," he mumbled. "So do I."
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