Outside the Sixth Floor Museum, there’s a man selling DVDs wrapped in newspaper. He’s wearing a shirt that says ‘TRUTH OR BUST,’ and this seems to speak to my Grandpa Darryl, who is a big fan of the truth. My Grandma Kate doesn’t mind the truth, but she’s an even bigger fan of air conditioning. She wants to go into the museum and stand where Lee Harvey Oswald stood when he killed JFK. She doesn’t want to talk to this man about his DVDs. Grandpa Darryl does. Grandpa Darryl says that museums are government funded shit factories anyway. He says, You all go on without me, I’d like to hear what this gentleman has to say. My Grandma Kate says, Suit yourself, and she takes my hand in hers. She leads me to the door of the Sixth Floor Museum, pays for our tickets. We visit rooms with old cameras and rooms with well-dressed mannequins and there are plaques mounted on every wall. Grandma Kate reads them carefully, word for word, but I don’t read a single sentence. I think about the man selling DVDs and I think about my Grandpa Darryl. I wonder what they’re talking about, if my grandpa is any closer to finding the truth. Isn’t this fun? asks my grandma as we reach the corner window where boxes are stacked identically to the crime scene photos. This is the spot. This is where Lee Harvey Oswald took his shot. I look out the window and see Grandpa Darryl talking to the DVD man. He looks excited. He’s waving his hands around and grinning wide as the DVD man points accusingly at the museum. When I turn to face my Grandma Kate, she’s smiling but it doesn’t seem real. It seems forced, like if she stops, a bullet might pierce her skull. Don’t worry, Grandma, I say. I’m having lots of fun — Look, I’m Lee Harvey Oswald! I mime holding a Mannlicher-Carcano Model 1891/38 rifle. I spin fast to the window. I aim down. Boom! Boom! Boom!