Mike Barbour approached me at the funeral and shook my hand. He said, “I didn’t know, man. I didn’t.” He was popping out of his suit, looked horribly uncomfortable, tears welling in his red-rimmed eyes. “Part of this is mine,” he said. “I ain’t askin’ you to forgive me. I just want you to know I know that.” Little acts of heroism.
Tonight, after Alicia and the kids are in bed, Mom and I put the whale tape into the VCR, turn up the sound, and sit in the porch swing listening, staring at the carpet of stars.
“God, Mom,” I say. “Sometimes there’s just no place to put this.”
“Well,” she says, “if there’s no place to put it, maybe we don’t need to put it anywhere.”
About the Author
CHRIS CRUTCHER has written nine critically acclaimed novels, an autobiography, and two collections of short stories. He has won three lifetime achievement awards for the body of his work: the Margaret A. Edwards Award for Outstanding Literature for Young Adults, the ALAN Award for a Significant Contribution to Adolescent Literature, and the NCTE National Intellectual Freedom Award.
He has been a child and family therapist with the Spokane Community Mental Health Center and is currently chairperson of the Spokane Child Protection Team. Chris Crutcher lives in Spokane, Washington.
www.chriscrutcher.com
