When I Found You (7 page)

“Can’t say as I know. Just hold a good thought.”

But Nat didn’t like snow, because it was all wrapped up in his mind with being cold, which he particularly didn’t like. So he wasn’t sure which way the good thought should go.

Gamma came back to the edge of his bed and sat, her great weight settling one side of his bed lower than the other and making the springs creak.

“Maybe my mother could come visit,” Nat said.

In the moment following the question, he saw and felt a clear reminder of why he never spoke such words out loud. The look on Gamma’s face was something like what he imagined it might be if he had viciously slapped her without warning.

And, again, that horrible filling of her eyes. The tears that never seemed to break free.

“Where on earth did that come from?’ she said.

“Well, only that it’s Christmas.”

“It’s been Christmas before, and you never said a thing like that.”

“But Jacob’s father is visiting for Christmas.”

“Oh. I see. So that’s what brought this on. Jacob’s father. Well, Jacob’s father and your mother are two entirely different cases.”

Maybe my
father
could come visit? That was his next thought. And, also, why were they such different cases?

But the slapped look had passed away from Gamma’s face, and the tears had been pulled back or swiped away, and Nat didn’t want to risk seeing any of it again. Especially not if he was the cause of it.

It isn’t nice to hurt other people, and if you absolutely must hurt someone, it’s important that you never do it on Christmas Eve or on Christmas Day, or maybe even a day or two before or after that.

25 December 1967   

In the morning, Nat ran downstairs wrapped in a blanket but still shivering. Gamma tried — but failed — to stay close on his heels.

“I guess I could put up the heat a little bit just for the special occasion,” she said.

But Nat knew it would take a long time to feel the change anyway, and he didn’t want to wait.

“Let’s just get to the opening.”

Gamma handed him two presents. “These are from me,” she said. It was the first year she had admitted that his presents were from her. In previous years she’d claimed Santa brought them. But Nat, even in his child-like willingness to believe, could not help noticing that Santa’s presents often looked a lot like Gamma’s knitting.

The first present he opened was a pretty good one. A fire truck. Made of metal and wood and painted bright red, it was about half as long as Nat was tall. And it had a real hose that pulled out, and a ladder that got longer and swung in whatever direction you wanted it to go.

“Thank you, Gamma,” he said.

The second was the inevitable knitting. A matched set with hat, mittens, sweater and scarf. Deep blue. A nice color, actually.

But nobody likes clothes for Christmas.

“Thank you, Gamma,” he said.

Then she went off in the closet and brought out the third box. It was big, and wrapped in gift paper he had never seen in this house. He felt himself begin to squirm deliciously. He wished he’d remembered to use the toilet before coming down. Not that he couldn’t hold his bladder; he was not a baby and he certainly could. But now he would have to
think
about holding it.

“And this is from the man who found you in the woods,” Gamma said, setting the big box on his lap.

The last present from The Man, the one he’d gotten three months ago for his seventh birthday, had been a very good one, to say the least. A brand-new hand-stitched leather baseball mitt. It looked very expensive. It was nicer than anything any other boy on his block had. They all oohed and aahed when he showed it off to them. It was a little big for his hand; he’d had to practice gripping it just right from the inside. But he swore his hand had gotten bigger just in the past three months, because he could handle it much better now. Either that or he had finally gotten the grip right.

He tore wildly into the paper.

Inside was a box that claimed, by the writing on it, to be a chemistry set.

He frowned at it, unable to mask his disappointment.

“But I don’t like chemistry,” he said.

“Well, he doesn’t know that, dear. Because he doesn’t know you.”

“Why does he give me presents if he doesn’t know me?”

“Because he’s the man who found you in the woods.”

‘Oh,” Nat said.

He asked no more questions because he knew the answers wouldn’t settle anything.

It was not news to him that many people in the world — the entire population of grown-ups, for example — behaved in ways he could not understand.

26 December 1967   

Jacob got to sleep over on the night following Christmas, because it was still vacation from school.

“Did you get anything good?” Jacob asked Nat, as soon as they’d gotten into his room and out of Gamma’s range of hearing.

“I got this fire truck,” he said. And showed it to Jacob. “From Ga— From my grandmother,” he corrected, realizing suddenly and for the first time that “Gamma” sounded too babyish. “Did you get anything better than this?”

“My father brought me a baseball with Joe DiMaggio’s signature on it. But I don’t think we can play baseball with it. It’s too good. And it’s in a plastic case. My mother says it’s worth a lot of money but he only gave it to me because he feels guilty. Did you get anything else?”

“Clothes. I hate clothes.”

“Everybody hates clothes.”

“And this chemistry set.” Nat pulled it out from the closet, into the middle of his bedroom rug.

“That’s a good one.”

“You think so? I hate chemistry.”

“Your grandmother gave you this? Wasn’t she afraid you’d blow the place up?”

“No, it’s from the man who found me in the woods.” A silent moment. Nat had no idea he’d said anything confusing. But he watched Jacob try and fail to sort out what seemed like straightforward information.

“A man found you in the woods? What were you doing in the woods?”

“No. I wasn’t. Not actually. I mean, I don’t think so. He’s just a man who gives presents. Isn’t he?”

“I never heard of the guy.”

“You don’t get presents from the man who found you in the woods?”

“I don’t think so.”

“I thought everybody did.”

“Nobody I ever met. Except you. What else did he ever give you?”

“That’s who I got the mitt from. He gives me something every birthday and every Christmas. He gave me an archery set. And binoculars. And he gave me an ant farm, but Gam— My grandmother wouldn’t let me keep it.”

“Boy, I wish I did have one of those woods men. Let’s see what we can make with this set.”

So they pulled out all the little test tubes and burners and bottles of various clear liquids.

Jacob decided they should try to make soap, because it was the very first project in the little booklet and seemed easiest. Nat went along, even though it sounded uninteresting, because he was pretty sure you couldn’t blow up anything with soap.

They spilled a whole bottle of something medicinally smelly on Nat’s bedroom rug in the process, but they did end up with a thick, bubbly liquid that they supposed was soap. It seemed not a very exciting conclusion to Nat, since they both avoided soap as much as possible and only washed when absolutely forced to do so.

“We could do another one,” Jacob said.

“Nah. I don’t like chemistry.”

“What do you want to do, then?”

“I don’t know.”

They lay on their backs crosswise on the bed for a few minutes, looking at the plastic stars on Nat’s ceiling.

Then Nat said, “I’ll be right back.”

He padded downstairs, his bare feet freezing.

Gamma was sitting in her big upholstered easy chair, knitting. And watching a mushy black-and-white love-movie on TV.

“Who’s the man who found me in the woods?”

Gamma sighed deeply. “Well, you’re just all full of questions lately. Aren’t you? Now I’m going to miss my show. Well, you were going to ask sooner or later. So go ahead and turn down the volume and then come back.”

Nat ran to the TV and turned it down, wincing at the fact that a man and a woman were kissing on the screen.

Gamma’s hands and knitting needles continued to fly as she talked.

“Every little boy or girl comes into the world like that,” she said. “The stork brings you, and drops you in the woods. In a special secret hiding place. And for each little boy or girl, there’s only one person in the whole world who knows how to find you. And that’s the man who found you in the woods. So if anybody ever says anything to you about your being out lost in the woods, now you’ll know what they mean.”

Her eyes remained glued to the story playing out silently on the screen.

“Jacob doesn’t have a man.”

“Everybody has a man.”

“Jacob doesn’t get presents from his man.”

“Well, then, you’re the lucky one. Aren’t you? Now run turn up the sound, hon. I’m missing the show.”

•  •  •

“You wanna trade for it?’ Jacob asked. He didn’t have to say he meant the chemistry set. They both knew what he meant.

Gamma had tucked them in and turned out the lights. They had to keep their voices down so she wouldn’t know they were awake. Because if she heard them she’d have to come back up and raise Cain.

“What’ve you got to trade?”

“My cat is about to have kittens. Trade you for a kitten. You can have your pick of the litter.”

“I should be so lucky. My grandmother would never let me keep a cat.”

“Not even in the garage?”

“She wouldn’t even let me keep the ant farm in the garage. And it was all behind glass. Hey. Maybe I could pick out a kitten but it could live at your house.”

“Not a chance. My mom says every single one has to be gone in six weeks. I’m lucky I get to keep the mom cat. I had to cry.”

“What else have you got to trade?”

“A baseball bat. But it has a crack in it.”

“Can you hit a ball with it?”

“Yeah, but one of these times it’ll pop right in half. Maybe not soon, though.”

“OK,” Nat said. “Deal.”

And they shook on the trade.

4 January 1968   

Next time he saw Jacob, it was the Monday after New Year’s Day. The first day of the new semester of school.

Jacob walked the half-block to stand at the curb and wait for the school bus with Nat. As he often did, if there was enough time.

“The bat popped in half,” Nat said.

“Already? Oh. Well. I’ll give you back the chemistry set if you want.”

“No, that’s OK.”

They stood in silence for a minute or two, watching their breath puff out in great clouds and waiting for the bus as if it were a hangman’s noose or a guillotine.

Then Jacob said, “I asked my mother. And she said you really were left out in the woods.”

“I know,” Nat said. “My grandmother told me. The day after Christmas.”

“Oh,” Jacob said.

That seemed to settle the issue between them well enough, so that it would not need to be raised again.

20 March 1973