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Another example, just a small thing, but-the game of sock. Tug-of-war, I should say, but Sam and Be
Anyway, I didn’t leave. The days drifted by in a pleasant haze, long periods of comfortable idleness punctuated by bursts of extreme excitement-They’re home!-and profound contentment. I worried, and sometimes I had bad dreams, but time passed and it became increasingly clearer that the dog side of me was wi
On Thursday, the principal at Be
Be
Mr. Horton came over twice to let me out, the second time in late afternoon, five or six, something like that. An amazing number of people talk out loud to dogs-you can’t believe the things they’ll say-but Mr. Horton wasn’t one of them. Where’s Sam? Where’s Be
It was getting dark when the car pulled up. Of course the engine didn’t sound any different, and of course the doors slamming were just doors slamming-but I knew before I heard Sam and Be
Sam let Be
Be
He played it twice. His face was turned away, but everything else about him answered my question. This was the first he’d heard.
His feet on the stairs sounded like doom to me; I could imagine what they sounded like to Be
He was sitting on his bed, working a puzzle. He didn’t look up, even when Sam sat next to him. “Ben.”
No answer. Intense scrutiny of puzzle.
“Is there something you have to tell me?”
Head shake.
“Be
Silence.
“Is there something you have to show me?”
Long pause, then Be
Sam looked at the envelope for a while before opening it. Not to prolong the suspense, just to put things off a few seconds longer. I sympathized.
Leaning in, I tried to read over his shoulder, but the type was too small. The letter wasn’t very long, one or two paragraphs, signed in ink. Sam sighed when he folded it and put it back in the envelope. “Okay. Tell me about this.”
Wordless and sullen, Be
“We’ve never talked about fighting before, not much, you and me. Were you angry at this boy, this-Doug? It’s okay to get mad at people, you know that. It’s what you do about-”
“He’s a poop head. He’s a dummy. He’s-” Be
“Hey, now-”
“He is.”
“Why?”
Be
“What did he do? Did he hit you first? That’s-”
“No.”
“Okay.”
“I hit him.”
“Okay. Why? Did he say something?”
“He said-he said-” Tears welled and spilled over. “He s-said…”
“What did he say?” Very gently, Sam folded Be
“He said Mommy…”
“What?”
“Is a…”
“What?’
“Vegetable.”
I made a choking sound, the closest to a sob I could come. They didn’t hear me; Be
“All right, listen. That kid was wrong.” He lifted Be
“I know.” Be
“But we don’t use that word, right? Well, except us, you and me. On rare occasions. We can say it to each other, but nobody else. How about that?”
“Okay.” A smile broke through. How cool to have a secret dirty word with Dad. I wasn’t sure I approved.
“And we don’t hit people when they say stupid things. Because they’re allowed to, it’s not against the law. People can be as stupid as they want, and we just ignore them. We can say, ‘You’re wrong,’ or maybe, ‘You’re an idiot,’ but that’s it. We don’t hit ’em, we just ignore ’em. Right?”
“Okay.” But then Be
“No, Ben, no. She’s not.”
“But she just lies there.”
“She’s asleep.”
“But what if she never gets up?”
“She will.”
“But what if she doesn’t? What if she stays like that forever? I wish she would come home! Why can’t she wake up? Why!”
“I think she will.” He took Be
“How long?”
“I don’t know. But we’re her family, you and me-”
“And Aunt Delia.”
“And Aunt Delia, and all we can do is keep thinking about her, and praying for her, and going to see her, and telling her we love her. Because she can’t help it-you know she’d come back if she could, right? You know that, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“She’s trying, but it’s very hard. She wants to be with us as much as we want her to be. We just have to keep waiting. And hoping, and not losing faith. And meanwhile, we’ve got each other.”
“I know.”
“You know.” Sam hugged him for a long time. “We’ll be okay,” he whispered over and over, until Be
So I knew what I had to do. And not tomorrow: tonight. No more stalling. I felt as if I’d woken up from an em barrassingly long nap. Why had I waited so long? Laziness, denial, cowardice-some retriever I’d been. But no more. Tonight I would begin the journey back. To myself. If I didn’t make it-and all the obstacles between me and Hope Springs had never looked so daunting-at least I’d have taken the chance. At least I’d have tried to put my family back together.
I stayed with Be