Late one night, Peter arrived in Los Angeles from far away Russia. It was his first time away from home. He was coming to live with his grandfather, who had moved to America long ago. From the airplane window, the city below looked so big and scary. As he waited outside, Peter wondered, will I recognize him? When Peter's grandfather arrived, he was driving an old pickup truck and wearing a headband with his long hair, like a hippie. Not exactly the kind of grandfather Peter was expecting. Hey there, little man, said Grandfather, hop in, dude, I think you're gonna like it here. And off they went. Peter didn't enjoy the music playing on the radio, so he gingerly reached for the dial. Oh, I like this one, said Peter. Okay, that's cool, said Grandfather. A little surprised. Peter's grandfather worked as a gardener for a once famous movie star. Like many celebrities who came to Hollywood to make their dreams come true, the movie star lived in a fabulous mansion, surrounded by fancy grounds, with a swimming pool and bubbling fountains. They had arrived. Grandfather lived in a bungalow in the back of the mansion, which he shared with a pack of ducks, one of whom spent more time inside the house than outside. He thought of himself as almost human. What a big house, thought Peter, who'd grown up in a small, cramped apartment. It was nice to have an upstairs, and that's just where Peter's room was. It didn't seem like much at first, but little by little, Peter made that room his own. He found a place for the picture of his parents. And hung up new posters. Sometimes, Grandfather helped him build things, and that was cool. And as the weeks went by, Peter studied hard. At night, Grandfather read him stories. And all the while, the little duck who thought he was human became Peter's best friend.