Chapter 15 - WHAT NOAH REMEMBERED
When Noah was nine, he asked me about the bat.
We were driving home from soccer practice.
Not baseball.
He never developed an interest in baseball again.
That was fine.
“Dad?”
“Yes?”
“How old was I when Travis hurt me?”
“Four.”
“Do I remember it right?”
My hands tightened slightly on the wheel.
“What do you remember?”
“The bathroom.”
“Okay.”
“Calling you.”
“Yes.”
“Uncle Derek coming.”
“Yes.”
“Mom crying at the hospital.”
I waited.
“Did Travis really hit me with a bat?”
“Yes.”
He stared out the window.
“I remember it, but sometimes it feels like a dream.”
“That can happen with old memories.”
“Was I brave?”
I almost answered immediately.
Then stopped.
“What do you think?”
He considered.
“I called you.”
“Yes.”
“So maybe.”
I smiled.
“Yes.”
Then he asked:
“Was Mom bad?”
Harder question.
“Noah…”
“Because she left me there.”
“Yes.”
“She knew he was mean.”
“Yes.”
“So was she bad?”
I took a breath.
“She made choices that were unsafe and wrong.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
He had inherited my irritation with evasive answers.
Fair.
“I don’t think people fit into good and bad as neatly as actions do.”
He frowned.
“Mom did something bad.”
“Yes.”
“Travis did something really bad.”
“Yes.”
“Did Mom change?”
“I think she has changed some things.”
He nodded.
By nine, Lena had regular daytime and occasional overnight parenting time.
No dangerous partners.
No secrecy.
No missed returns.
No attempts to minimize what happened.
Her relationship with Noah was imperfect.
But real.
He loved her.
That was sometimes difficult for me.
I never told him that.
My job was not to make him carry my unresolved feelings.
Then Noah asked:
“Do you hate Travis?”
I thought.
“I did.”
“Now?”
“I mostly don’t think about him.”
“That’s weird.”
“Why?”
“If somebody hit me, I’d think about them forever.”
I looked at him.
“You might be surprised.”
“About what?”
“How small someone can become when they’re no longer part of your life.”
He thought about that.
Then:
“Uncle Derek says Travis had bad footwork.”
I nearly drove off the road laughing.
“Uncle Derek is no longer allowed to discuss this subject.”
“Why?”
“Because he’s Uncle Derek.”
May you like
Noah nodded as though that explained everything.
It usually did.
