Grady's Boy

One night Grady finally had to leave. I wished him goodbye. I guess I never really loved him, just the peace of mind he brought me.

My bed was just as quiet without him as it was with him. He wasn’t handsome, never affectionate, but he was stable-minded. Never rose his voice. Maybe I did miss him.

Two years later, I play with my son in the sandlot. He doesn’t laugh, doesn’t smile. Just watches the trees with his cold blue eyes, holding no rattle but a fountain pen. He “writes” sand letters. He stares, gaze cruel, hands gentle.