of course , i answer as my minds eye produces an image of my father sitting right where i am , tucking us in for the night and sharing stories of years long-passed , stories his father told him that his grandfather had shared . * the boys , the boys in my imaginary neighborhood , form a loose gang . plus , most of my family is here . '' they 'd been part of each other 's lives for twenty-four years . `` not for another four weeks at least , '' she answered . 