Member-only story
Good Boy
Do you know how to forget?
Every morning I take Richie outside before breakfast.
He prefers the park when nobody is around and I do too.
Yesterday he relieved himself beside a tree and an old woman stopped walking just to look at us.
I smiled.
“He’s still learning, he will improve”
She moved on and didn’t smile back.
Richie has been difficult since the accident, sometimes he refuses to eat and other times he scratches at the door.
At the café he makes weird sounds when strangers come too close.
“Good boy” I say to him.
Today it rained.
By the time we came home, muddy footprints covered the hallway.
He sat on the floor, staring at me and staying exactly where I left him.
Such a good boy.
There is a photograph which I usually avoid looking at it: two children stand in front of the sea.
Richie is smiling.
Daniel is holding his hand.
Under Richie’s face there are two dates.
I felt him pulling at the lead.
“No”.
He kept staring at the photograph.
I crouched beside him and pointed at Richie.
“Who is that?”
For a very long time he said nothing.
His eyes filled with tears.
And then, very quietly:
“Daniel.”
I smiled and gently stroked his hair.
“Good boy, Richie.”
