Part 22 (1/2)

Ms. Jenny comes looking for BBB, and when she doesn't find him, she jumps up on the couch and ducks her head under my hand, so that I will pet her.

I pet her with all I got.

When PJ brings me the tea, it is green-like always.

I sip it.

He sits and sips his cup.

I sip mine again-and then I start sobbing.

I sob so hard I drop my teacup and Ms. Jenny jumps off the couch and hides under the coffee table.

I can't stop crying.

I can't stop shaking.

Snot is running down my nose-spit down my chin.

It all comes out.

Everything.

My dad leaving us.

Being homeless.

My mom's murder.

BBB's having a tumor.

I'm not even an adult yet.

It's not fair.

It's really not fair.

I close my eyes so hard-trying to stop the tears.

I start to cough wildly.

I feel like I might die.

And then Private Jackson is next to me on the couch.

He's moved toward me for the first time.

I throw myself at him.

He hesitates for a second or two, but then he puts his arms around me.

I bury my head in his yellow b.u.t.ton-down s.h.i.+rt, and he holds me.

After a few minutes, I stop coughing, but I can't stop crying.

I soak his yellow b.u.t.ton-down s.h.i.+rt with hot tears.

We stay entwined like this on his couch-father-daughter style-for a long time.

When I finally let go, Private Jackson turns his face from me quickly and says, ”I will get you more tea.”

Before he leaves the room, I see that his face is also streaked with tears.

He stays in the kitchen for a long time-longer than it takes to make green tea.

When he returns, he hands me a new steaming-hot cup.

When I sip, he says, ”I just wrote a haiku in the kitchen.”

He has a piece of paper in his hand, so I ask, ”Can I read it?”

He hands it to me.

It reads: THE SUN SETTING THROUGH.

PINE TREES AT THE EDGE OF TOWN.

MAKES ME SQUINT AND SMILE.

”It's good,” I say. ”But it doesn't capture the present moment.”

”Maybe sometimes-on special occasions-every so often, it is best to capture a different moment, maybe, when the present moment is not the right moment for you. It is sometimes nice to think that more moments are always coming. Always. Like the moments when you come to visit me.”

”True,” I say, and then sip my tea, realizing that what PJ just said is like-revolutionary for him, so I don't push it. I simply enjoy the present moment-having released so much emotional baggage-as this moment bleeds into the next one.

Silence.

We sip our cups for an hour, not saying a single word, just occupying the same s.p.a.ce.

When I finish, I stand and say, ”You're a good man, Private Jackson.”

”I will wash the teacups now,” he says.

”I'm going to bring BBB here in a week or so to visit Ms. Jenny, cool?”