Read Online When You Were Older by Catherine Ryan Hyde - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Catherine Ryan Hyde
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hurry – while I searched for cookies under the furniture.
I was down to one missing cookie when he called in to me.
‘You have to come tuck me in.’
‘Of course,’ I said. Out loud. But not to him. Not loud enough for him to hear. ‘Of course I have to go tuck him in.’
I also had to give him a kiss on the temple, right at his hairline. Just the way Mom used to do. He pointed carefully, so I’d get just the right spot.
‘Night, Buddy,’ I said.
‘Hey. Buddy. Want to know … something?’
‘Sure. What?’
‘Why wouldn’t I see her?’
I tried not to sigh. But the sigh more or less sighed itself.
‘Night, Buddy. See you in the morning.’
I turned out the light. But the world’s brightest night light must have been on at all times. All day as well as all night. Because it didn’t get much darker in Ben’s room.
16 September 2001
I CRUISED BY Nazir’s Baked Goods at six forty the following morning. Stopped out front.
If anything, the street, the town, seemed even more deserted than it had the morning before. Then again, it was Sunday. So it had some excuse.
It struck me that the bakery might be closed on Sunday. A lot of non-essential businesses were, in this Christian town. And maybe that glow of light in the kitchen was like Ben’s night light. A constant.
But then I saw a flash of her head, on her way to the oven, through the window.
I shifted my mom’s old Buick into park, and shut off the engine.
That’s when I noticed the issue with the bakery window. Right on the word NAZIR’S, someone had hit the glass with two raw eggs, which dripped their yolks obscenely down the window and on to the brick below.
I wondered if she even knew yet.
I reached for the front door. Her head came up, and she motioned me around the side. I walked around to the tiny bakery parking lot and saw an employee’s entrance into the kitchen. It was open.
She smiled when she saw me come in. That felt good. Seemed like it had been a while since anyone had.
‘So,’ she said. ‘You came back, Ben’s brother.’
I was so tired and disheartened that I was almost willing to accept that as my new name. I offered no answer of any kind.
‘We don’t open till eight on Sundays. So I don’t even have the donuts cut yet. But come in and talk to me. It won’t take too long. And I have coffee made. No offense, but you look very bad. Worse than you did yesterday. I was hoping you would feel a little better by now.’
‘I had a bad night with Ben. Have you got a bucket? Something I could put soapy water in? And maybe a scrub brush or a big sponge?’
She looked at me strangely.
‘Your mother didn’t keep such things at your house?’
‘It’s not for me. It’s for you. For your front window. Somebody hit it with eggs.’
Her smile disappeared. I heard her mutter a couple of words under her breath, but I didn’t make out what they were. I’m not entirely sure they were English.
‘Right on my father’s name?’
So that’s who Nazir is, I thought. That’s the other half of her ‘we’.
I guess I wasn’t answering fast enough. So she went on.
‘So maybe the donuts won’t just be a few minutes. I have to tend to this other matter first.’
‘No, that’s fine,’ I said. ‘You do the donuts. I’ll get the window. I just need a bucket and something to scrub with.’
She looked into my face for a long moment. ‘You’re sure?’
‘Absolutely.’
She disappeared into a back storeroom and came out with an aluminum bucket. I watched her partially fill it with hot water at the big industrial double sink. She added a shot of dishwashing liquid.
The bucket steamed as she handed it to me. I thought she’d forgotten the scrub brush, but I looked in and saw the end of it sticking up out of the sudsy water.
‘I don’t know why you’re doing this,’ she said. ‘But it’s nice. Thank you.’
‘I don’t know why you gave me coffee and donuts for free yesterday. But sometimes people are nice
I was down to one missing cookie when he called in to me.
‘You have to come tuck me in.’
‘Of course,’ I said. Out loud. But not to him. Not loud enough for him to hear. ‘Of course I have to go tuck him in.’
I also had to give him a kiss on the temple, right at his hairline. Just the way Mom used to do. He pointed carefully, so I’d get just the right spot.
‘Night, Buddy,’ I said.
‘Hey. Buddy. Want to know … something?’
‘Sure. What?’
‘Why wouldn’t I see her?’
I tried not to sigh. But the sigh more or less sighed itself.
‘Night, Buddy. See you in the morning.’
I turned out the light. But the world’s brightest night light must have been on at all times. All day as well as all night. Because it didn’t get much darker in Ben’s room.
16 September 2001
I CRUISED BY Nazir’s Baked Goods at six forty the following morning. Stopped out front.
If anything, the street, the town, seemed even more deserted than it had the morning before. Then again, it was Sunday. So it had some excuse.
It struck me that the bakery might be closed on Sunday. A lot of non-essential businesses were, in this Christian town. And maybe that glow of light in the kitchen was like Ben’s night light. A constant.
But then I saw a flash of her head, on her way to the oven, through the window.
I shifted my mom’s old Buick into park, and shut off the engine.
That’s when I noticed the issue with the bakery window. Right on the word NAZIR’S, someone had hit the glass with two raw eggs, which dripped their yolks obscenely down the window and on to the brick below.
I wondered if she even knew yet.
I reached for the front door. Her head came up, and she motioned me around the side. I walked around to the tiny bakery parking lot and saw an employee’s entrance into the kitchen. It was open.
She smiled when she saw me come in. That felt good. Seemed like it had been a while since anyone had.
‘So,’ she said. ‘You came back, Ben’s brother.’
I was so tired and disheartened that I was almost willing to accept that as my new name. I offered no answer of any kind.
‘We don’t open till eight on Sundays. So I don’t even have the donuts cut yet. But come in and talk to me. It won’t take too long. And I have coffee made. No offense, but you look very bad. Worse than you did yesterday. I was hoping you would feel a little better by now.’
‘I had a bad night with Ben. Have you got a bucket? Something I could put soapy water in? And maybe a scrub brush or a big sponge?’
She looked at me strangely.
‘Your mother didn’t keep such things at your house?’
‘It’s not for me. It’s for you. For your front window. Somebody hit it with eggs.’
Her smile disappeared. I heard her mutter a couple of words under her breath, but I didn’t make out what they were. I’m not entirely sure they were English.
‘Right on my father’s name?’
So that’s who Nazir is, I thought. That’s the other half of her ‘we’.
I guess I wasn’t answering fast enough. So she went on.
‘So maybe the donuts won’t just be a few minutes. I have to tend to this other matter first.’
‘No, that’s fine,’ I said. ‘You do the donuts. I’ll get the window. I just need a bucket and something to scrub with.’
She looked into my face for a long moment. ‘You’re sure?’
‘Absolutely.’
She disappeared into a back storeroom and came out with an aluminum bucket. I watched her partially fill it with hot water at the big industrial double sink. She added a shot of dishwashing liquid.
The bucket steamed as she handed it to me. I thought she’d forgotten the scrub brush, but I looked in and saw the end of it sticking up out of the sudsy water.
‘I don’t know why you’re doing this,’ she said. ‘But it’s nice. Thank you.’
‘I don’t know why you gave me coffee and donuts for free yesterday. But sometimes people are nice
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