He climbed up into the cabin half afraid that the machine would jolt to life and crush him or trap him. Once inside the cabin, he felt safer, less exposed. His father’s cologne lingered in the stale cabin air, rousing the memory of yesterday and all the secrets hidden under the soil.

When Rokon Mama arrived the following winter, I waited for him with all the curiosity of an eleven-year-old busybody. I wanted to know more about him. I had asked Mother too, who just hushed me up. Nanu had set his breakfast separately from the rest of the family.

Joshua and Eric, they are good boys.  Boys are easier.  The boys don’t give me much trouble.  Of course, Eric is spoiled, but he is small and doesn’t know.  Joshie is my best.  Joshie tells me, “Mommy, I love you so much.” He doesn’t forget the garbage or his laundry.  When I say, “Mop the floors!” Joshie mops the floors. When I say, “Vacuum the car.  Now!” Joshie vacuums the car.