If looks were to be believed, he still was just a boy. Something of my age, though from his solemn quietude, I knew he was old in the soul. A boy whose black crayon would be the shortest in his box.
Sal is creative, imaginative, and intelligent. It was also important that Sal take on a role of wisdom, because it had to be left up to the reader as to if this character was really just a little boy, or if he was a fallen angel who had lived since the beginning of time. So sometimes Sal speaks in a way you might not think a thirteen-year-old boy should, but I put my trust in Sal’s ability to be a storyteller, a thirteen-year old boy, and possibly a fallen angel, all at the same time. Much like my mother, Betty, Sal was a storyteller. I saw so many of her qualities in him, and she was one of the reasons why I wanted to have him writing and telling stories. Storytelling has been a tradition in my family on my mother’s side. Both her and Papaw Landon, told stories to steer them on the path forward, and to shield them against the racism they were experiencing. Sal uses storytelling much the same way.
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