The next time we see my father,
he is still sick,
has been sick the entire time.
I hardly recognize him and try not
to look frightened.
He can barely stand and his skin hangs
on his body as if it is trying to go somewhere without him.
My mother tells the man in charge
that he must let my father come home
so that she can make him well.
He looks at this David standing in front
of him with a slingshot full of words, and
laughs.
The rule is that each household must offer up a male
to come work.
If she does not have another one,
my father must stay.
My mother closes her mouth.
Her weapon of words cannot slay this Goliath.
I stand tall. Chest out.
I am a boy wanting to be a man.
I dig deep and say,
“I will take his place.”
My mother begins to shape her mouth
into a no,
but Father is sick.
I am the only one left.
I am the only man in our house.
Saul is still gone.
Our hope is that he is safely in Russia by now.
She hugs me tightly
and makes the trade.
Me for my father.