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"I don't want to see the busybodies gaping at us, Taylor." she told him, and he said he understood.

Traveling to another community to go out to eat was at least something that pleased Noble. He wasn't as sullen, and he was, of course, very interested in everything he could see along the way and when we arrived. He even asked questions and listened with Mr. Kotes gave him answers. Mommy seemed to be pleased about all that.

Since she would never permit us to have a babysitter from the community, Mr. Kotes always had to take us along whenever he wanted to take Mommy somewhere. It was either doing that or eating at our house. There was talk between them about taking us on a trip to New York City to see the Bronx Zoo, which filled Noble's eves with excitement,

"We could go there and back in one day easily, if you want. Sarah," he told her.

Noble was pleading with his eyes, urging Mommy to agree,

"We'll see," she said with some real interest in her eve, which at least gave him some hope.

Despite his reluctance and efforts to remain aloof and disinterested in Mr. Kotes. Noble was succumbing. I saw it happening more and more. He no longer complained about him sitting in Daddy's chair, and he began to use the magnifying glass again. Soon after that, he was openly using all the tools Mr. Kotes had given him earlier.

He even began to look forward to Mr. Kotes coming to see us, anticipating that he would be bringing something new each time. It was on the tip of my tongue to ask Noble why he didn't think about Daddy as much anymore. Wasn't he afraid he would never, ever see Daddy's spirit or speak with him again? I was afraid to ask these questions, afraid he would just go running to Mommy to tell her.

Actually, I was more surprised at Mommy. Didn't she think that the more Noble grew to like Mr. Kotes, the less chance he would have to cross over and see Daddy's spirit? Why would this occur to me and not to her?

I was building up my courage to ask her that.

It was a question teasing at the tip of my mind, threatening to burst out on its own if I didn't agree to phrase it myself soon.

I was truly about to do that finally.

But I didn't get the chance. and I didn't have to ask after all.

The answer was already written in the darkness, scribbled on the wind, circling the house and preparing to enter our hearts.

We had only to listen.

6

"Someone Pushed Me"

.

It happened the night of our ninth birthday,

which to me made it even more significant. Mommy made a special dinner and a wonderful chocolate fudge cake with our names spelled out in vanilla icing. When Daddy was with us, our birthday parties were usually big events. He would bring us more gifts than we received on Christmas. Mommy always complained about how he was spoiling us, but he was undeterred.

"Birthdays are days that by definition are meant to spoil children," he said. "It makes them feel special, makes them feel significant and loved."

"Our children feel that every day of their lives," Mommy countered.

"I'm sure they do, but birthdays are still

different. Sarah. Fm surprised you don't remember

your own when you were their age and how important

all that was to you."

"I don't have anything foolish to remember. My

parents weren't foolish people," she remarked. Even when I was very little. I remember

wondering what that meant. Didn't Mommy have

birthday parties. too?