Chapter 17
Noah started kindergarten at five.
Richard hated drop-off.
He did not admit that.
The school had been selected with Noah’s therapist, pediatrician, and the child-welfare team.
Small classes.
Ordinary lunch.
No special program invented to solve problems Noah did not have.
Richard still reviewed the security plan twice.
Miriam took the third copy away from him.
“You are sending him to kindergarten.”
“I know.”
“Not opening a hotel in Baghdad.”
Richard looked at her.
She kept the paper.
The first problem happened during the second week.
Noah came home with two wrapped crackers in his backpack.
Richard found them beside a pencil box.
His body reacted immediately.
Food hiding.
Again.
He sat on the edge of Noah’s bed.
“Why are these here?”
Noah shrugged.
“Snack.”
“You can eat snacks at school.”
“I know.”
“Then why save them?”
Another shrug.
Richard felt the old fear.
He wanted to call the teacher.
The therapist.
The principal.
Possibly the superintendent.
Instead:
“Are you worried there won’t be food later?”
Noah looked confused.
“No.”
“Then?”
“Eli gave me them.”
“Why?”
“He doesn’t like crackers.”
That was all.
Richard stared at the two packages.
Ordinary crackers.
Ordinary five-year-old trade.
He almost laughed.
“Okay.”
Noah looked at him.
“You thought something.”
“Yes.”
“What?”
Richard considered.
“You used to save food because you were worried you might need it later.”
Noah’s face changed slightly.
“I remember bread.”
Richard did not know whether he truly remembered or remembered being told.
That distinction did not need solving tonight.
“Do you still worry about that?”
“No.”
Good.
Richard left the crackers where they were.
The next morning Noah ate one in the car.
Nothing happened.
A month later Mark attended a supervised park visit.
Noah had started asking more questions during visits.
Not easier questions.
“Why did you send my clothes?”
Mark sat on a bench.
“Because I planned for you to live with Grandpa.”
“Did you ask me?”
“No.”
“I was little.”
“Yes.”
“Then how ask?”
Mark paused.
“You were too young to decide where you lived.”
Noah frowned.
That answer was legally true.
Still incomplete.
Mark tried again.
“But I should have made decisions based on what was good for you.”
Another pause.
“Not what made my life easier.”
Noah kicked leaves.
“Was I hard?”
Mark looked at him.
“No.”
“Claudia said.”
“I know.”
“Expensive.”
“No.”
Mark swallowed.
“You needed normal things.”
That sentence had come from Richard.
Now it belonged to Mark too.
“Shoes?”
“Yes.”
“Food?”
“Yes.”
“School?”
“Yes.”
Noah thought.
“Airplanes?”
Mark almost smiled.
“Probably too many airplanes.”
Noah smiled too.
Small.
Real.
After the visit Mark asked the supervisor whether he could bring a model airplane kit next time.
The supervisor asked Noah.
Noah said:
“Maybe.”
Mark accepted maybe.
Richard heard later.
He felt relieved.
Then suspicious of his own relief.
Mark behaving appropriately did not mean Richard had to trust him again.
It also did not mean Richard had to be disappointed.
May you like
Those were separate problems.
He was still learning.
