Prologue
A sound woke him. The door? Did someone leave?
Raul listened harder. A sob. Someone was crying.
He wasn’t supposed to get out of bed once Momma tucked him
in, but who was crying? It didn’t sound like Momma.
Poppa?
He raised his hands and knuckled his eyes clear of the
sleepiness. Grabbing his stuffed puppy—Momma said they couldn’t have a real
dog, not in the apartment, and bought him Ruffy instead—he climbed out of bed
and stepped lightly to the door. Maybe if he was really quiet, Momma wouldn’t
catch him, and he could find out who was crying and hop back into bed before
she noticed he’d gotten up.
Poppa told Momma to leave his door cracked so the light from
the hall could shine inside because Raul didn’t like the dark. He was too old
to be scared of the dark. Only babies were afraid of the dark, and he was a big
boy. Momma said so because he was starting school next year.
Raul peeped through the door, but couldn’t see anything. It
sounded like the noise was coming from the living room.
He eased down the carpeted hallway to the living room, his
bare feet making no sound, dragging Ruffy by his tattered ears. Poppa knelt on
the floor, his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking like they did when he
laughed. This didn’t sound like laughter to him.
Raul glanced around but didn’t see Momma anywhere.
Cautiously, he eased forward and laid a tentative hand on his poppa’s big
shoulder. “Poppa?”
Poppa didn’t hear him.
Warily, he glanced around again. Where’s Momma? It wasn’t
like Poppa to be alone.
Momma was always here, especially at night. She laughed and
said Poppa didn’t like her going out after dark because he was scared something
bad would happen to her. Raul didn’t think Poppa was scared of anything. He was
so strong and so big, but Momma said there were different types of scared. That
this scared was okay because it meant Poppa loved her and didn’t want anything
bad happening to her.
Feeling a little scared, Raul patted Poppa’s shoulder, a bit
insistently this time. “Poppa, where’s Momma?”
His father jerked and turned swiftly, startling Raul so bad
he dropped Ruffy and staggered back before falling hard onto his bottom.
“Raul,” his Poppa said, not sounding like Poppa at all. His
voice was jagged, his face wet with tears, and his skin red and blotchy.
Poppa reached out and grabbed him, pulling him into a hug.
Poppa held him so tight it was hard to breathe. Not knowing what else to do,
Raul patted Poppa on the head, the way Poppa sometimes did to him when he fell
and hurt himself and cried.
Raul still wanted to know where Momma was, but Poppa’s big
shoulders were shaking again, and the side of his neck where Poppa’s face was
buried was wet.
After a long time, when it was all Raul could do not to
wiggle his way free, Poppa’s shoulders finally stopped shaking. When Poppa
finally lifted his head, he looked so sad, so unPoppa-like, that Raul’s chest
hurt. “Poppa, where’s Momma?”
“She left.”
Raul’s forehead wrinkled. “She went to the store? But Momma
said you don’t like for her to go out at night.”
A single tear leaked out of Poppa’s eye, trailed down his
cheek to splash on Raul’s hand. “She’s not at the store, son. She’s gone.”
“Where did she go?” Raul asked curiously.
Poppa squeezed his eyes shut and breathed out so deeply his
breath felt like a soft wind in Raul’s face.
Raul laid his hand on his Poppa’s bristly cheek. “Don’t be
sad, Poppa. Momma will be home soon. Nothing bad happened to her.”
“Oh God! Oh God!” His Poppa hugged him tight again, rocking
with him so that his feet left the carpet. Slowly Poppa lowered him to the
floor and cupped both of Raul’s cheeks with his huge hands. “Raul, listen to
me, son. Momma’s not coming back.”
Raul tried to understand. “Did Grammaw Pauline get sick
again?”
Once when he was little, Momma went to stay with her momma
because she was sick
A sound woke him. The door? Did someone leave?
Raul listened harder. A sob. Someone was crying.
He wasn’t supposed to get out of bed once Momma tucked him
in, but who was crying? It didn’t sound like Momma.
Poppa?
He raised his hands and knuckled his eyes clear of the
sleepiness. Grabbing his stuffed puppy—Momma said they couldn’t have a real
dog, not in the apartment, and bought him Ruffy instead—he climbed out of bed
and stepped lightly to the door. Maybe if he was really quiet, Momma wouldn’t
catch him, and he could find out who was crying and hop back into bed before
she noticed he’d gotten up.
Poppa told Momma to leave his door cracked so the light from
the hall could shine inside because Raul didn’t like the dark. He was too old
to be scared of the dark. Only babies were afraid of the dark, and he was a big
boy. Momma said so because he was starting school next year.
Raul peeped through the door, but couldn’t see anything. It
sounded like the noise was coming from the living room.
He eased down the carpeted hallway to the living room, his
bare feet making no sound, dragging Ruffy by his tattered ears. Poppa knelt on
the floor, his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking like they did when he
laughed. This didn’t sound like laughter to him.
Raul glanced around but didn’t see Momma anywhere.
Cautiously, he eased forward and laid a tentative hand on his poppa’s big
shoulder. “Poppa?”
Poppa didn’t hear him.
Warily, he glanced around again. Where’s Momma? It wasn’t
like Poppa to be alone.
Momma was always here, especially at night. She laughed and
said Poppa didn’t like her going out after dark because he was scared something
bad would happen to her. Raul didn’t think Poppa was scared of anything. He was
so strong and so big, but Momma said there were different types of scared. That
this scared was okay because it meant Poppa loved her and didn’t want anything
bad happening to her.
Feeling a little scared, Raul patted Poppa’s shoulder, a bit
insistently this time. “Poppa, where’s Momma?”
His father jerked and turned swiftly, startling Raul so bad
he dropped Ruffy and staggered back before falling hard onto his bottom.
“Raul,” his Poppa said, not sounding like Poppa at all. His
voice was jagged, his face wet with tears, and his skin red and blotchy.
Poppa reached out and grabbed him, pulling him into a hug.
Poppa held him so tight it was hard to breathe. Not knowing what else to do,
Raul patted Poppa on the head, the way Poppa sometimes did to him when he fell
and hurt himself and cried.
Raul still wanted to know where Momma was, but Poppa’s big
shoulders were shaking again, and the side of his neck where Poppa’s face was
buried was wet.
After a long time, when it was all Raul could do not to
wiggle his way free, Poppa’s shoulders finally stopped shaking. When Poppa
finally lifted his head, he looked so sad, so unPoppa-like, that Raul’s chest
hurt. “Poppa, where’s Momma?”
“She left.”
Raul’s forehead wrinkled. “She went to the store? But Momma
said you don’t like for her to go out at night.”
A single tear leaked out of Poppa’s eye, trailed down his
cheek to splash on Raul’s hand. “She’s not at the store, son. She’s gone.”
“Where did she go?” Raul asked curiously.
Poppa squeezed his eyes shut and breathed out so deeply his
breath felt like a soft wind in Raul’s face.
Raul laid his hand on his Poppa’s bristly cheek. “Don’t be
sad, Poppa. Momma will be home soon. Nothing bad happened to her.”
“Oh God! Oh God!” His Poppa hugged him tight again, rocking
with him so that his feet left the carpet. Slowly Poppa lowered him to the
floor and cupped both of Raul’s cheeks with his huge hands. “Raul, listen to
me, son. Momma’s not coming back.”
Raul tried to understand. “Did Grammaw Pauline get sick
again?”
Once when he was little, Momma went to stay with her momma
because she was sick
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