They held hands as they walked down the hill, and then
Elliot-Franky-George broke away and ran down the hill to the roadside,
skipping over the stones and holding their belly as they flew down the
hillside. Alan laughed at the impatient jig they danced as they waited
for him and Brad to catch up with them, and Brad put an arm around his
shoulder and kissed him on the cheek in a moment of uncharacteristic
demonstrativeness.
He marched right into Mr. Davenport's office with his brothers in tow.
"We're back," he said.
Mr. Davenport peered at them over the tops of his glasses. "You are, are
you?"
"Mom took sick," he said. "Very sick. We had to go live with our aunt,
and she was too far away for us to get to school."
"I see," Mr. Davenport said.
"I taught the littler ones as best as I could," Alan said. He liked
Mr. Davenport, understood him. He had a job to do, and needed everything
to be accounted for and filed away. It was okay for Alan and his
brothers to miss months of school, provided that they had a good excuse
when they came back. Alan could respect that. "And I read ahead in my
textbooks. I think we'll be okay."
"I'm sure you will be," Mr. Davenport said. "How is your mother now?"
"She's better," he said. "But she was very sick. In the hospital."
"What was she sick with?"
Alan hadn't thought this far ahead.
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