Timothy and Pattress cross the fence
while I’m feeding the turkeys.
“I have some news,” he says,
taking the bucket of grain from me.
He pours it into the feeder.
“Is it good news?” I ask.
“I think so.”
“I have news, too.”
“You first,” Timothy says.
I tell him, “We’re staying in Hillsborough.”
“Cool,” he says. “Because my news is
I’m staying here till next June.”
“That’s great news,” I say, and smile.
But Timothy’s eyes look sad.
“Right?”
“Sure,” he says, and shrugs,
and keeps looking at me like he needs more
than a smile.
We give the turkeys fresh water,
and Timothy helps me lock the pen.
Pattress has been sitting outside all this time
and wags her tail when we come out.
Finally I ask, “Why are you staying here?
Doesn’t your mother want you home,
now that Wesley’s in Vietnam?”
Then he tells me a little
about his life in New York
and why he’s staying with his grumpy uncle.
“My dad and mom are divorced.
He left us when I was three.”
“Do you remember your dad?”
“Not really. My mom and Wesley
have told me stories,
but now I don’t know if I remember him or the stories.
Mom thinks I need to be around someone
who can be like a father.
She doesn’t like that I like to cook.”
“My dad likes to cook.”
“I would tell her that
if I didn’t have to keep it a secret
that I come over here.”
“You have to keep lots of secrets. Isn’t it hard
to keep them all straight?”
“I like coming over,” he says.
“It’s one of the only reasons
I even want to stay with my uncle.”
Then I say what Papa says all the time:
“You are welcome to visit us anytime.”
Timothy smiles finally.
“I wish I lived here. I wish
I had your family.”
“I don’t think you’d want to be in my family.
It’s not always easy.”
“My family isn’t easy, either.”
Now I know
that what Timothy needed more than a smile
was for me to hear his story.
I give him a hug
for the first time,
and he hugs me back
as if he has wanted to forever.
It feels good. And now I’m glad
my family voted to stay.