He reached for me.
“Mine,” I whispered.
IT WENT LIKE THIS:
There was yelling.
Gordo was yelling.
My father was yelling.
My mother was crying.
Kelly was in his crib, and his arms were waving.
“Kelly,” I said. I pushed a chair toward the crib. It was hard. I was little. I climbed on top of the chair as Kelly began to wail. I climbed over the bars of the crib. My father said I was a good climber.
I was careful.
I wouldn’t hurt my brother.
I climbed into the crib and lowered myself next to him.
I lay down beside him and put my hands over his ears because I was a wolf, and he was a wolf, and we heard things others could not. It was very loud.
Gordo was screaming.
My father was begging.
My mother sounded like she was choking.
“Kelly,” I said, and he punched me in the head. It was an accident. It didn’t hurt.
I remembered what my mother did when he was like this. “There, there,” I said, petting his cheek. “There, there.”
He stopped crying.
He looked at me with wet eyes.
I kissed his nose.
He smiled.
IT WENT LIKE THIS:
Boxes.
So many boxes.
Everything packed up.
“We’re leaving,” my father said.
“Why?” I asked.
“Because we have to.”
“Why?” I asked.