Little man

A young boy visibly upset hiding it behind a masculine response he doesn't yet understand. The boys grandfather (papa) shaped out of stone from many years of pain sit next to each other on on a swing bench nestled between two great pine trees, no more then a few feet away from a house constructed before his own time.

Papa: I saw you sitting out here all alone, you make your mama worried sometimes with how little you talk son'

What's on your mind little man?

little man: Papa, I think I'm afraid of dying.

*The old man sits back a little*

Papa: Son its a little early for you to be thinking of such a thing. I'm guessing that's what has you all worked up the walls and such. 

*a plane is heard overhead slowly passing over, humming its great big engines to the land below. The wind picks up briefly whisking cold spring air around them as if someone had just turned on the air conditioning.*

Papa: I have thought a lot about it before, maybe not at your age but its something every man has to face one day, be it alone or with his family. It's not something you'll have to face for a long time son. 

*papa gives the young boy a nudge with his shoulder*

Papa: Be glad it wont be something you'll have to think about for a long time

*little man smirks*

Papa: How about we go inside and talk to ya momma and nana

*they both hop up from the swing and walk together to the house while papa makes a few old hit quips and little man cheerfully struts along side him*