He was born as a quite ordinary boy in a tiny Czech village. After the death of his parents he was bred by his grandmother, a very kind though a bit muddle-headed woman, who used to ease her strong rheumatics pain by smoking herbs from her garden. She would make anything for the boy! So when the gentlemen in well-fitting suits came around one day, she didn’t hesitate for a moment. Face to face with her own reflection in their black sunglasses, she let the boy go with them to a holiday camp. Then she aligned money into neat packet and hid it into a straw mattress. She knew the value of things of this kind. Then she went back and melted the worm of doubtfulness in smoke of herbs. The summer came over. Leaves fell off the trees. The snow covered the ground and the boy never came to the old woman`s mind again.