pretty. Fran says later they will probably get blue. Mother is gone and I am lonely
as the arctic see.
That night at the hospital Fran finds the address. Tom includes the photo of the
whale skeleton from the magazine and sticks on an extra stamp for luck. He
thinks: See how the flowers closest to it are brightest. See how the closest
leaves are the darkest green.
***
He sleeps, pays his rent, walks the thirty-one blocks to work. He checks the mail
every day. And winter pales and spring strengthens and Tom loses a little bit of
hope.
One morning over breakfast, Mr. Weems looks at him and says, You ain’t even
here, Tom. You got one foot across the river. You got to pull back to our side.
But that very day, it comes. Dear Tom, I liked hearing from you. It hasn’t been
ten years but it feels like a thousand. I’m married, you probably guessed that.
The baby is Arthur. Maybe his eyes will turn blue. They just might.
A bald president is on the stamp. The paper smells like paper, nothing more.
Tom runs a finger beneath every word, sounding them out. Making sure he
hasn’t missed anything.
***
I know your married and I don’t want anything but happiness for you but maybe
I can see you one time? We could meet at the aquarium. If you don’t write back
that’s okay I know why.
Two more weeks. Dear Tom, I don’t want anything but happiness for you, too.
How about next Tuesday? I’ll bring the baby, okay?
***
The next Tuesday, the first one in May, Tom leaves the hospital after his shift.
His vision flickers at the edges, and he hears Mother’s voice: Be careful,
Tomcat. It’s not worth the risk. He walks slowly to the end of the block and
catches the first trolley to Belle Isle, where he steps off into a golden dawn.
There are few cars about, all parked, one a Ford with a huge present wrapped
in yellow ribbon on the backseat. An old man with a crumpled face rakes the
gravel paths. The sunlight hits the dew and sets the lawns aflame.
The face of the aquarium is Gothic and wrapped in vines. Tom finds a bench
outside and waits for his pulse to steady. The reticulated glass roofs of the flower
conservatory reflect a passing cloud. Eventually a man in overalls opens the
gate, and Tom buys two tickets, then thinks about the baby and buys a third. He
returns to the bench with the three tickets in his trembling fingers.
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