Charlie’s hung some lights
on the walls of the family room.
Mama won’t like the holes,
but even I think the lights
are pretty.
Every other minute,
Charlie looks at the clock,
her white face glowing
red and then blue in the lights.
Shouldn’t she be here
by now? she says.
She only works ’til seven.
Her voice shakes a little,
and I feel it shake my chest.
Once a parent leaves,
you wonder if it might
happen again.
She’ll be here soon, Charlotte,
Aunt Bee says.
Mama says Charlie’s
a terrible nickname for a girl.
I think it fits her just fine,
I know who climbs trees
higher than me and
drives Granddad’s tractor
and swims in a dirty pond
full of snakes.
Aunt Bee puts her arm
around Charlie,
and even though she’s twelve,
Charlie looks real small.
Aunt Bee smiles at me.
You’ll lead the song? she says.
She’s asked me once already.
I think she’s just trying
to fill the space where
Mama should be by now.