Page 19 of The Summer of ’98

“Can I have a quick look? I won’t touch it, I promise. You know, one time, I slid over and split my knee open and my brother stuck his popsicle stick in it. He was only three, but it hurt. So, I know it’s super important not to touch people’s injuries.”

She nodded, tears still streaming down her face. Her gasps for air were heartbreaking. Leroy inspected her lip and gave her a light pat on the arm. “Good news, it’s just a little cut. It’s almost stopped bleeding. You know, if you get a lemonade popsicle on that, it’ll make it feel a whole lot better. I can see Mom coming—let her know Coach Leroy said you need a popsicle.”

She wiped her face with the back of her hand, nodded, and ran off toward her mom who was coming in from the parking lot.

After the practice was over, the equipment was cleaned up, and the field had cleared, Leroy and I lay beside each other in the grass. The afternoon sun was warm, but the breeze was refreshing.

“How come you made sure that little girl knew you wouldn’t touch her lip?” I asked, still thinking about the exchange and how gentle he was.

“You don’t remember being a kid and having an irrational fear that someone was going to assault your injury?”

“Not really,” I said. “You obviously have some unresolved trauma from the knee thing, though.”

He laughed. The wind carried the sound and gave it notes that had to have come from the heavens. “It’s not just me, I swear. Kids have this panic when an adult wants to see their cuts or scrapes or whatever. Watch any child when their mom inspects a cut finger or grazed knee. Their immediate response is, ‘Don’t touch it! Don’t touch it! Don’t touch it!’”

My stomach ached from laughing at the high-pitched squeal he put on in place of a child’s voice.

“It’s true!” he said.

“I guess I wouldn’t know,” I said, watching a puff of white cloud being pushed across the blue by the wind. “Mom just kept the Band-aids low enough that I could reach them if I needed them.”

From my peripheral, I saw Leroy turn his head to look at me. “Your mom didn’t help when you got hurt as a child?”

“If it was bad enough, I suppose. She just didn’t like to fuss. She said it made me more hysterical when she fussed.”

My tone was nonchalant. Factual. But the truth was, it stirred a mild hurt to admit that out loud. I’d never given it much thought before. It was just a norm. Cut knee, grab a Band-aid, get over it, and clean up the mess. Hugs and fuss were just coddling and there was no need for that.

Leroy laced his fingers with mine, the cool grass resting beneath our hands. “Noah didn’t stick a popsicle stick into my knee.”

I looked at him.

“I did it to him.”

“Leroy!”

He burst into a loud laughter. “I felt so bad.”

“You are awful.”

“I wanted to see what would happen. I didn’t think about the fact that it would hurt.”

“You’re a monster.”

“I was four! He screamed and then I screamed. It was chaotic.”

We were both doubled over with laughter, facing each other in the grass, our vision blurred.

Leroy

After dinner that night, Ellie and I were watching a movie in the living room. Mom and Dad were upstairs, retired to bed to read and catch up on the paper before they popped their sleeping pills. Mom had work in the morning and Dad had decided to give us the living room for the evening. The DVD rack beside the television was stacked from top to bottom, and I told Ellie to take her pick.

“You have a DVD player?” Her mouth fell open as she stared at all the titles. “Our VCR doesn’t even work now, it’s so old.”

DVD players were just over a year old, and as soon as they were on the market, Dad had one under the television. “Dad was like a kid on Christmas when he got that,” I explained, settling into the sofa.

“Aw,” Els cooed, running her finger down the spines of the DVDs. “Can I put it in the machine? We should watch this—”

She held up Mrs. Doubtfire and I nodded, using the remote to switch it all on. Watching her excitement, my heart sped up. The task was almost mundane to me at this point. Put the DVD into the machine, play, watch. Ellie treated it as though she was delivering the crown jewels, tongue between her lips, focused, a wiggle in her shoulders when she was done. I loved to see it.

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