again, but still couldn’t. Then there were some grown-ups gazing down to him, then more. Soon there was a crowd of people looking on with fascination. Then without warning a man appeared next to him, bent over Conner and said, “Give me your arms.” When Conner reached up, the man grabbed his wrists and pulled as hard as he could. Conner thought his arms were going to break, but then his feet started coming loose and with a slurping sound he rose from the goop, though his jeans stayed behind.
        In a minute, he was standing next to the trench in only a t-shirt and underpants, covered entirely with mud, the observers amused, pointing and laughing. Then out of nowhere his mother appeared and led him away. He was mortified to be outside in only his underwear, but his mother Carol walked him home without speaking and then ran a bath for him.
        She didn’t spank or reprimand him for wandering off that day. And he never told her about seeing his father at Skip’s house. He was too distraught over his close call and didn’t want to admit it had happened in the first place.
        But whenever he’d see his father after that, he’d envision him at Skip’s house that Sunday afternoon. But he never broached the subject with him or anyone else, believing he himself was in the wrong. He wasn’t supposed to be so far away from home that day. And he assumed that event was another one of those mysterious adult activities he didn’t comprehend but knew not to challenge. Gradually, he thought about it less and less.

#

        During the following months, Conner sensed something different at home. As infrequently as he typically saw his father, he was seeing him less and less. There had always been traces of his existence at home, occasional sightings on the weekends, his keys on the table, his car in the front driveway. But one day, it occurred to him he hadn’t seen his father for a long time. He walked into the living room where Sharon sat at the dining room table doing homework, his mother in the kitchen with Celia.
        “Where’s Daddy?” he said.
        Sharon looked up with her wide-set eyes, high forehead and straight-cut bangs without saying a word, then got up and went to the kitchen.
        A minute later, his mother called him. When he stepped to her side, she told him to sit at the kitchen table next to her. In a gentle voice she told him Daddy wasn’t going to be coming home for a while. He was going to live somewhere else for the time being.
        “Where?”
        “In another house.”
        “Why?”
        “Because it’s what he needs