handwriting anywhere.
âFrom Stacey?â
Timothy nods.
âWhere did you see her?â
âI took her homework to her today.â
âSo, you told her
what I said yesterday?â
âDonât worryâI didnât have to.
She told me to wait while she wrote this.â
I tear open the envelope
and read:
Dear Mimi,
How are you? I am fine,
and I like having another vacation.
I miss you,
but weâll see each other again soon.
Iâm glad we went to shop
and Iâm glad we didnât back down
to Mr. Sperangium
(oops, did I write that?).
And I would do it all over again.
Pinkie promise??
Love,
Stacey
âThank you, Timothy.
That was nice of you.â
âSheâs your friend,â he says,
and I say, âSo are you.â
Bad News
Itâs not a baking day,
but Timothy is rapping on the back door
like heâs late for his lesson.
Papa pulls it open and Timothy tumbles in,
face flushedâbut not because heâs embarrassed or cold
or happy. His eyes are red, too.
He falls into Papa
and hangs on, shuddering.
âMy b-bro-ther.â
âWesley?â I ask.
Timothy nods violently on Papaâs shoulder.
âWhat about Wesley, son?â Papa asks,
eases Timothy away
gently
and bends to him to see his face.
âHeâs m-missing. His s-squad was att-kâd.â
Timothy gulps a breath. âMay-be     heâs       d-dead,â
he sobs, and plunges his head into Papaâs shoulder.
I go to him and smooth his hair
like heâs Baby Cake trying to fall asleep,
and Papa pats his back
until Timothy breaks away and runs his hand under his nose.
I hand him a napkin.
âHow did you hear?â Papa asks.
âMy mom (
gulp, gulp
) called.
Sheâs coming to get me.
I have to go back with her.â
âOh,â I say,
but my heart feels so much more
for Timothy,
for Wesley,
for their mom,
and me.
âFor how long?â
Timothy shakes his head. âI donât know,â
and then I feel bad for asking.
How could he know?
Now we hear Mr. Dell outside. âTimothy!â
âDo you want me to go with you?â Papa asks.
Timothy blows his nose again and shakes his head,
and I open the door.
Maybe I wonât see him again for a long time
or forever.
Papa squeezes his shoulder and says to call us
for anything he needsâ
and to tell his uncle the same thing.
I wish Mama was here, because sheâd give him food
for the trip.
âTimothy!â his uncle calls. The growl
is gone from his voice, and all I hear is worry.
The turkeys gobble in the coop like a laugh track
but nothing is funny.
âComing,â Timothy says,
and turns to me. âIf we donât leave till tomorrow,
meet me outside tonight?â
I feel like crying as I nod yes. It will be the
Full Hunterâs Moon.
Timothy closes the door and walks across our yard
to Mr. Dell, whoâs standing on his side of the fence.
I watch him
watching Timothy come closer and stop.
Their bodies tell the storyâ
Timothyâs hands answer a phone call,
Mr. Dell grows still, then folds his arms over his chest
and shakes his head.
Timothy drops his arms.
âI press my nose to the doorâ
Mr. Dell looks at our house,
then at the fence between him and Timothy,
and steps over it          to his nephew.
He rests his hand on the back of Timothyâs neck
gently
and guides him back to their house.
The Way We Say Good-bye: One
When Mama and I left Berkeley,
Auntie Sachi and Uncle Kiyoshi and Shelley and Sharon
walked us to the taxi parked at the curb
and helped the driver put our suitcases in the trunk
and opened the doors for us
and closed them after we settled in our seats
and stood nearby.
The taxi driver checked his map
and fixed his mirrors
and called in to say he was taking us to the bus station.
All
Terry Pratchett
Stan Hayes
Charlotte Stein
Dan Verner
Chad Evercroft
Mickey Huff
Jeannette Winters
Will Self
Kennedy Chase
Ana Vela