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“You really think that treasure of yours was worth fighting for?” Greg asked. “Against a pipe?”

“What else a man got ’cepting what he can pass on to his son, or his daughter, if she be his oldest?” Lemon Brown said. “For a big-headed boy you sure do ask the foolishest questions.”

Lemon Brown went down the stairs behind Greg. When they reached the front door the old man looked out first, saw the street was clear and told Greg to scoot on home.

“You sure you’ll be O.K.?” Greg asked.

“Now didn’t I tell you I was going to East St. Louis in the morning?” Lemon Brown asked. “Don’t that sound O.K. to you?”

“Sure it does,” Greg said. “Sure it does. And you take care of that treasure of yours.”

“That I’ll do,” Lemon said, the wrinkles about his eyes suggesting a smile. “That I’ll do.”

The night had warmed and the rain had stopped, leaving puddles at the curbs. Greg didn’t even want to think how late it was. He thought ahead of what his father would say and wondered if he should tell him about Lemon Brown. He thought about it until he reached his stoop, and decided against it. Lemon Brown would be O.K., Greg thought, with his memories and his treasure.

Greg pushed the button over the bell marked Ridley, thought of the lecture he knew his father would give him, and smiled.

—“The Treasure of Lemon Brown,”
Walter Dean Myers

Write a scene describing the discussion Greg and his father have when he gets home