Chapter 11
Caleb started having nightmares about the blindfold.
Not the bat.
The darkness.
He would wake crying:
“I can’t see Micah.”
That broke me.
We did not destroy the blindfold.
I wanted to.
But objects are not guilty.
Instead Leah from household staff turned it into fabric strips for an art project.
Not ceremonially.
Practical.
The boys glued pieces onto cardboard animals.
Caleb made a terrible blue dinosaur.
Micah made something he insisted was a lion.
Neither looked recognizable.
Good.
The blindfold disappeared into ordinary mess.
The bat stayed with the party supplies.
For months Caleb would not touch it.
Then one afternoon he asked to hit the actual piñata.
I froze.
Micah noticed.
“Dad scared.”
Children are cruel observers.
“A little.”
Caleb looked at me.
“I hit tiger?”
“Yes.”
Micah shouted:
“Not me!”
Both boys laughed.
I did not.
Then I did.
We hung a new piñata outside.
No blindfold.
Caleb wanted to see.
Important.
He swung.
Missed completely.
Micah laughed.
Caleb laughed too.
Second swing.
Candy everywhere.
No fear.
No post.
No Brielle turning anyone toward a sound.
That was healing.
May you like
Not forgetting.
Choice returning to the same action.
