“I'll go with him, Mom,” Johnny volunteered.

“That would be fun. See if you can figure out what he'd want to be.” She had dressed him as Luke Sky-walker from Star Wars the previous year.

She was still mulling it over a few days later, when she walked past the door to Bobby's room after he got home from school. It was a chilly day, and she had come upstairs to get a sweater. She knew Charlotte was doing homework in her room, but she could hear voices coming from Bobby's. She assumed it was one of his talking tapes and smiled when she heard Johnny talking to him. Bobby couldn't answer, but at least he could hear and see him. She could hear both voices in the room, the talking tape and Johnny's. And as she walked toward her own room, she suddenly heard the sound of laughter. She stopped, and turned around, walked slowly to the door of Bobby's room, and listened. At first, all she could hear was Johnny, talking to him. She could no longer hear the tape, but she very distinctly heard a second voice, talking to him. And without thinking, she turned the knob, opened the door, and looked at both of them. Both boys were sitting on the floor, and Bobby's toys were spread all around them, as they glanced up at her in surprise and confusion.

“What are you two up to?” she asked casually, as she stepped into the room, and closed the door behind her, so no one else would hear them. “Making a mess? Or just having fun?” Her eyes searched both her sons', sensing that they shared a secret. Her heart trembled as she looked at them, and Johnny smiled oddly at her. “Is there something funny going on here?” She looked from one to the other, and Johnny looked pointedly at his younger brother, and then whispered something to him, as she watched them.

Bobby raised his eyes slowly to hers, and she felt as though an arrow were piercing through her. She could barely breathe, as she reached a hand out to him, and then sat down next to them. She didn't know why, but she wanted to be closer to them, and she touched Bobby's face with both her hands, as tears filled her eyes for no reason she could fathom. It was as though she could feel something in him, something that wanted to be free now.

“Are you okay?” she asked breathlessly, and the small child nodded, as Johnny never took his eyes from him.

“Go on,” Johnny said, as Bobby looked from his brother to his mother.

“Hi, Mom,” Bobby whispered, as a sob broke from her, and she pulled him to her with such force that it left them both breathless, and then she pulled slowly away from him and looked down at him, laughing and crying, as she reached a hand out to Johnny and pulled him toward them.

“Hi, Bobby” was all she could answer at first. “I love you so much…. How long have you been talking?”

“Since Johnny came. He said I had to. We can't play any good games if I don't talk to him.” Johnny was smiling at both of them, as Alice tried to wipe the tears from her cheeks, but they wouldn't stop coming.

“Will you talk to all of us now?” She couldn't help wondering for how long he had been capable of it, or thinking how much it would mean to his father. But as she asked him, Bobby shook his head and looked at Johnny.

“Maybe soon, Mom,” Johnny said quietly. “We need to do this one step at a time. Bobby wants to get used to talking to you first. But he's doing real well,” he said, tousling Bobby's hair, “he said a real good word to me this morning.” Bobby giggled at the memory of the word he had dared to say to his older brother. It was one he knew he wouldn't be allowed to use, even once he started talking, no matter how grateful they were to hear his voice.

“Can't we tell Daddy?” Alice felt terrible not sharing the news with him. She knew it would make all the difference in the world to him.

“Not yet,” Johnny answered for him. “But soon, I promise.” She didn't want to push either of them, but she was sorry not to tell Jim what had happened. But she somehow felt that it was best to respect Johnny's wishes.

They sat on the floor together for a long time, talking softly so no one would hear, and after a while, Charlotte knocked on the door and stuck her head in.

“Mom, your cookies are burning,” she said matter-of-factly, seeing neither her older brother, nor the look of joy in her mother's eyes. All she saw was her mom on the floor, talking to Bobby, with his toys all around them. “I took them out of the oven,” she said, and closed the door again, as Alice stood up and kissed both her sons before she left them. She went downstairs with a lighter step than she'd had in years, and all she could think of was how Jim would feel once he knew that Bobby was talking.

Her eyes went to Bobby's often at dinner that night, and he smiled as he looked at her. They had a huge secret to share, two of them, one that he could talk, and the other that Johnny had come back to them. It formed a bond between Alice and her youngest child that they had never shared before, and he stayed in the kitchen with her for a long time that night, after they finished dinner. He said nothing to her, but she could feel his heart tucked into her own, as he helped her clean up, and when they finished, she stopped and pulled her to him. “I love you, Bobby,” she whispered to him. His arms held her tightly around her waist, and when she stepped back from him, he smiled at her, and went silently upstairs with Johnny.





Chapter 8


Thanksgiving was painful for them that year, particularly for Jim and Charlotte. Alice felt sorry for both of them, and wished that she could have shared Johnny's presence with them. He hung around between Bobby and her part of the time, and made yummy faces as he stood over the turkey, while she was carving it in the kitchen. Jim had had enough to drink by then that she didn't trust him with it, or the carving knife. She didn't want him to destroy the bird, or hurt himself.

“Boy, that smells great, Mom. It's bigger than last year,” Johnny said with admiration.

“I couldn't find one smaller than this,” she said out loud to him, wrestling with one of the drumsticks, and then licking her fingers while Johnny sniffed at the gravy. “Be careful you don't spill that.”

“Spill what?” Charlotte asked, looking blank, as she walked into the kitchen to help her.

“The gravy. Not you, I was talking to …” She was distracted and forgot that Charlotte couldn't see Johnny standing next to her.

“Who were you talking to, Mom?” Charlotte asked, looking worried.

“No one, sweetheart. I was just thinking out loud.” Charlotte looked crestfallen as she walked out, carrying a platter of sweet potatoes with marshmallows on them. Her mother was clearly out of her mind with grief, and her father was already drunk halfway through the afternoon. Johnny was gone, and she wished they didn't have to celebrate at all, as she went back to the kitchen to get the cranberry jelly. Her mother had her back to her when she walked into the room, and had just said clearly “Stop that!” Charlotte thought she was definitely crazy. “If you touch one more thing, I'm going to kill you!” Alice said, sounding good-humored.

“I thought you wanted this stuff put on the table,” Charlotte said as her mother turned around to look at her, and then blushed.

“Yes, I did. I'm sorry…. I get a little frazzled with all this cooking.”

“Mom, you've got to stop talking to yourself like that,” Charlie said, looking nervous. She'd been doing it for two months. Charlotte knew why, it was because of Johnny's death of course, but it just didn't seem normal or healthy. Even her father had noticed, but he never said anything to Alice about it. He had told Charlotte she always talked to herself now when she was alone in their bedroom. He had walked in several times when she was having a full-blown conversation with herself. “Mom, are you okay?” Charlotte asked her, as she juggled the cranberry jelly in one hand and the string beans in the other.

“I'm fine, dear. Honest. I'll be out in two minutes with the turkey.”

“Okay, now go play while we eat,” she told Johnny in a whisper before leaving him in the kitchen, and hurrying into the other room with the turkey.

“I can't miss Thanksgiving, Mom.” He looked hurt at the suggestion.

“You'll make Bobby act funny … and I'll wind up saying something I shouldn't,” she whispered to him.

“I'll be good. I promise,” he said solemnly, and then followed her in as she carried the stuffing and the carved turkey. Thanksgiving had always been his favorite holiday next to Christmas.

Alice served everyone, and Jim looked vague as he dug into his dinner. Charlotte said nothing, and Bobby smiled when he glanced up at Johnny. But Johnny put a careful finger to his lips and warned him not to look at him, which made Alice giggle.

“Whass so funny?” Jim asked, slurring his words. And Alice looked at him sadly. It was painful to see him that way, not only for her, but for the children. Bobby glanced at him with disappointment, and shook his head.

“Why did Dad have to get so drunk today?” Johnny asked her when she went back to the kitchen to carve more turkey for them.

“Why do you think?” she said with a sigh, putting more dressing on the platter. “Because we all miss you. And all the usual old stuff. It's a shame he can't see you too. I think it would help him so much. Why do you suppose they wouldn't let him see you, like me and Bobby?”

“Because he wouldn't understand it, Mom,” Johnny said without hesitation.

“I'm not sure I do either. But I sure do love it,” she said, stopping to kiss him, and then she walked back into the other room with seconds for Jim and the children.

“Talking to yourself again?” Jim asked her with a look of concern. Even after drinking too much, he could hear her talking to herself.

“Sorry,” she said, as Charlotte looked up at her miserably. She hated it when her father got drunk. And now her mother was acting crazy too. Thanksgiving without Johnny was agonizing. It seemed unfair to Alice that Charlotte couldn't see him too. But maybe she wouldn't have understood it either. Whatever the reason, she couldn't see him. He stood right next to her for part of the meal, so close that she should have been able to sense something, but she didn't. “The Adamses said they'd come by after they eat their turkey,” Alice said to everyone at the table.

“Why do they have to come here?” Jim didn't sound pleased about it. He just wanted to finish eating, and sit in front of the TV, drinking beer, and watching football.

“They're our friends, Jim,” Alice chided.

“So what? Johnny's gone, and Becky's not his girlfriend.” Alice said nothing, and they all went on eating, and a few minutes later, Charlotte helped her clear the table. It was a relief to end the meal and move around the kitchen.

“I hate him,” Charlotte said, as she set the platters down on the counter. Bobby came in with his plate, and his mother took it from him. Jim had already abandoned the table, without waiting for the pumpkin pie or the whipped cream she had made for it.

“He can't help it, Charlie. You know that,” her mother said gently.

“Yes, he can. He doesn't have to get drunk all the time. It's disgusting.” Charlotte looked heartbroken, and it pained Alice to see it.

“He misses Johnny,” Alice said, knowing full well that he also felt guilty about Bobby, and had since he'd stopped speaking.

“I miss him too,” Charlotte said practically, “so do you. You're not falling-down drunk,” she said with a grim expression. “All you do is talk to yourself. That's pretty weird, but at least it's not as sick as what he does.”

“Don't say things like that about your father,” Alice said firmly.

“Why not? It's true. Dad's a drunk, Johnny's gone. Bobby is never going to talk again.” Her eyes filled with tears as she listed the miseries that afflicted all of them, but only some of them were true. Bobby had begun to talk again, and Johnny was back, for a while at least. And she was talking to him, not herself.

“Maybe Dad will stop drinking one of these days,” Alice said with a sigh, as she cut wedges of the pumpkin pie, but no one was hungry. “People do, you know.”

“Yeah, sure,” she said, unconvinced, helping herself to a dollop of whipped cream with her finger. “I'll believe that when I see it.”

“He's been better lately,” Alice said hopefully, but Charlotte didn't look as though she agreed with her.

“Not today. He could have at least stayed sober on Thanksgiving.”

The three of them picked at their pumpkin pie, and Johnny sat at the table in his father's empty seat between Charlotte and Bobby. And as Alice started clearing the table, the doorbell rang, it was Becky and her mother and brothers and sisters. They made a noisy entrance, as Johnny sat, staring at Becky. She looked beautiful in a dark blue velvet dress, with her shining gold hair hanging down her back just the way he had loved it. Alice felt a pang of sorrow for him as she saw the way he watched her.