They talked for a good while, finally able to be honest with one another. The boy explained how he saw the shop as he sold weed in the alleyway, how he started working there, even his experience with the mushrooms, everything. 

His grandmother sat quietly and listened, having to stop herself a few times from interrupting, until the boy was finished.

“You sure you want to work in that shop for the rest of your life?”She asked him.

“No, but I know that’s the path that is in front of me right now, and I’d be a damn fool not to follow it.”

“Watch your mouth.” She told him sternly. “Ok, fine, we will go down tomorrow and enroll you back into school. But it’s not going to be easy! You’re going to have to make up a lot of what you missed.”

“I can do it.” He said confidently. “I want to learn, I want to fulfill my destiny as a prophet of God.”

“Shut up!” She stood up in a rage. “You may have had some out of body experience but that doesn’t make you Jesus Christ do you understand me!? Not in my house! If you’re going to speak like that in this house then you can go stay with Labiba, do you understand me!?” She boomed.

“But grandma, prophets are just messengers of God, and God is...”

She cut him short. “Don’t you tell ME about GOD!” She began praying over him. “LORD JESUS!”

“Grandma please you’re acting ridiculous....” The old man hushed him suddenly.

“Stop it.” He whispered, “You can not interfere or project your beliefs onto someone else. What they believe is what they believe. You are here to guide a way in which a person may walk, not enforce what the road should look like.”

The boy nodded, but feeling even more flustered by the moment, he began to pray in silence. 

The old man observed both of them, praying together.

Stubborn, he thought, both of them.

Next Chapter: The Avatar