Comfort & Joy

I can hear the tremor in his voice and it moves me, compels me to take a step closer. “Bobby?”

He stiffens at the sound of my voice, but doesn’t turn to me or answer.

I move closer. Edging past him, I start to sit down on the bench.

“STOP!” he screams, pushing me aside. “You’ll sit on her. ”

Something in his voice makes my blood run cold. I stop suddenly. “Bobby?”

He kneels in the dirt and slumps forward. “It’s okay now. She’s gone. You can sit. ”

He looks utterly broken, this boy who only yesterday defied his father to let me stay here. He picks up two action figures from the ground beside his knees and makes them battle. It’s Darth Vader and Count Dooku, I think. A woman doesn’t work in a high school without learning about popular culture. I finally sit down on the bench in front of him. “Are you okay, Bobby?”

“Fine. ”

“You don’t sound fine. Do you want to tell me why?”

“You’ll think I’m crazy, too. ”

“Why would I think that?”

He uses Darth to smack Dooku. “They all think I’m wacko. ”

“I doubt that. ”

He finally looks at me. “They don’t believe I see her. ”

“See who?”

It takes him a moment to say, “My mom. She’s dead. ”

I feel as if we’ve just swum out too far in cold water. “Is that who you were talking to when I got here?”

He nods. “I’m not crazy, though. I know she’s in Heaven. But I see her sometimes. Dad thinks she’s imaginary, like Mr. Patches. ”

“Mr. Patches was an imaginary friend of yours?”

Bobby makes a sound of disgust. “Uh. Yeah. When I was like . . . four. ” He goes back to his action figures, makes them fight. “I’m not imagining my mom. ”

I find myself thinking of the plane crash, when I “saw” my mom. The vision was so complete and full, I believed it and I’m an adult. A boy this age could hardly be expected to fully comprehend tricks of the mind.

Of the heart.

“I saw my mom just the other day, and she’s been dead for ten years. ”

Bobby looks up again. “Really?”

I nod. “I talk to her all the time. ”

Bobby seems to consider that, and me. “Does she talk back?”

I think about that. On a few memorable, rare occasions, I’ve felt her presence. “In a way, maybe. Mostly I think I know what she would say. ”

Bobby starts cracking the action figures together again. “He’s glad she’s dead. ”

“Who is?”

“My dad. ”