“Like when?”
“Like when someone tells you something really special. Something only the two of you know.”
She looked off in the distance, then back at him. “Like how your scar sometimes hurts?”
He swallowed hard. “Yeah. Like that.”
“So, when do you not keep a secret?”
Happy to talk about something besides his scars, Max nonetheless chose his words with care. “Let’s say someone I cared about asked me to keep a secret. A secret that might mean the other person could get hurt or maybe get in trouble.” He paused, maintained eye contact. “Then, I couldn’t keep that secret.” He waited a beat. “Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir. I think so.” She tugged on one corkscrew curl next to her cheek. “It might not be a bad secret. I’m not sure.”
When they reached Gail’s back steps, she plopped down on the middle one and pulled the zipper of her jacket a little higher. “He’s always teasing me about stuff.”
It took a moment to pick up the thread. “Bobby?”
“Yes, sir. He’s in third grade and lives next door to my friend Bonnie down the street.”
He nodded and joined her on the steps, allowing her to proceed at her own pace.
“He’s always around at recess and lunch. He pulls my hair and stuff and calls me a nerd.” She glanced his way. “I’m in second grade, but I get to take special classes because I’m smart.”
No brag. Just facts. “And he teases you about that?”
She nodded. “He did before.”
“…Before?”
She sat up straighter and angled her body to face him. “He said I’m a bastard because I don’t have a daddy.”
Ouch…didn’t see that one coming.
“I know that’s a bad word, but I wasn’t really cussing, Max, I was just telling you what he said.”
“Roger that.”
She tilted her head to the side. “Is that soldier talk?”
“Yes. It means I understand.” He folded his hands over his knees. “Is that the secret? He called you a—bad word?”
She nodded, curls bobbing around like pogo sticks. “I’m not really sure what it means, but I don’t think it’s good. I could ask Mama, but if it ain’t good, it might make her sad, and I don’t want that.” Earnest eyes searched his. “Can you tell me what it means, Max?”
Holy crap. Walking through a minefield wasn’t half as scary as trying to find an answer to her question.
When he didn’t answer right away, she asked softly, “It is bad, isn’t it?”
He inhaled and started. “Just because your dad isn’t around doesn’t mean you’re a—that word he said.”
“But what does it mean?”
He focused on a faded plastic watering can on a table beside the steps, praying he’d say the right thing. “In my experience, when someone picks on someone else, it’s because they want their attention or because they’re bigger than the other person, and it makes them feel even bigger when they pick on someone smaller.” He cut his eyes toward her. “Understand so far?”
“Roger that. Like a bully.”
He nodded. “Sometimes a boy wants to let a girl know he likes her but doesn’t really know how. In Bobby’s case, my guess is he probably likes you but feels intimidated because he thinks you’re smarter than him.”
“I am.”
He covered his snicker with a cough. “Calling people names is never cool, Tink. It can be really hurtful and usually makes things worse.” He paused. “But my guess is when Bobby pulled your hair and stuff, he just wanted to get your attention. When that didn’t work, he tried something else.”
“Like calling me a bad name?”
“Did you talk to him?”
“Uh-huh, I mean, yes, sir.”
“Then he achieved the objective.”
Eyes wide, she sat up straight. “He called me that just so I’d talk to him?”
“I can’t be certain since I wasn’t there, but that’s my guess.”
Her mouth moved from side to side as she digested the conversation, then she gave a light huff. “Men.”
He laughed. Out loud. For the first time in a very long time, he laughed out loud.
She stood and faced him, hands planted on her tiny hips. “Well, if you’re gonna be Mama’s male companion, Max, talk nice to her. Don’t call her bad names and stuff. Women don’t like it.”
