A NUMBER IN THE UPPER PENINSULA

I worked some overtime this week,” my dad (forte)said.

I didn’t know what to say, so I didn’t say anything.

“That should make things easier, there, once the paycheck comes,” my dad (forte)said.

I heard television (piano)noises through the phone.

I was starting to understand that he was calling from somewhere he couldn’t come back from. No one could find jobs in our village anymore. He had no way home.

“School alright?” my dad (forte)said.

I fingered the piano’s keys, playing the ghost of a song, pressing each key so softly that it made no noise whatsoever.

“School’s okay,” I (mezzo-piano)said.

I waited for him to say it, but it never came.