My father has strange eyes. One is a laughing eye, and the other is a weeping eye. My two older brothers and I have grown up afraid to ask him why he has such strange eyes. Well, we’re grown men now, getting ready to find our fortune, and we’d like to know.
My older brothers have gone in to ask him, and they’ve run out of the room in a terror because Father is so affronted, he’s attacked them with a knife.
It’s my turn now. If Father tries to attack me, I won’t budge. I have nothing to fear from him. If he’s weeping over something that he’s lost, maybe I can go out and find it.