A Morning at the Wulf's House: Birds Come and Save Me

We needed to know if what he said about there being no food in the cupboards was true; after the search we no longer questioned his other instructions. I stood in his room and tried to imagine what it was like to be him and I realized that his interior landscape was much wider than mine and that I was grateful for his friendship. Noah walked in trance-like and took the guitar and mandolin--his only greeting, "Geez Dad, there's a lot of picks." Within minutes the downstairs was filled with the Tennessee Waltz. Later, when Joseph awoke and ambled outdoors I said "Good morning," then pointed to the tire swing, "look what I made for you." Joseph smiled and thanked me with genuine gratitude because he knew I was lying but also knew that I would've made him that swing if he had asked me to.

Gracie and I jumped on the trampoline--first as rabbits, then as monster and trickster, then as dad and daughter, but suddenly the feel was not right and Gracie went inside for a moment then opened the door and said, "Mom talked me into coming back out." We lay on our backs and looked at the broken tree branch and then looked at the cat playing dead and then tried to bounce on our backs. When we went inside for water Jill said to me, "I saw you watching me shoot baskets the other day." Once again, I realized that Jill has all of my numbers and I went to her and kissed her and when our lips parted she breathed on me and it was like driving through a field of blackberries and I wanted to crawl down her throat and rest my head on the dark clumps within her lungs and then she pouted and said, "Everywhere we go there is coffee. There is always coffee." And this made me think of coffee. And so I went to the freezer, as instructed, and took out the yogurt container and plied the lid and smelled the frozen beans and it made me happy to be an addict. I made the coffee, as instructed, and then greeted Benjamin at the back door and watched him feed the dog and stared at his pony tail and wondered about the comfort that his long hair provides.

I walked upstairs and Gracie followed and we stood in each of the girls rooms and looked and Gracie said, "I wish I lived in a girl house," and I felt sad for her and when I saw a cluster of feathers in Maggie's room I sang her a song about cardinals and blue jays and yellow finches coming to save a little girl and she sang the spontaneous chorus with me, "birds come and save me, birds come and save me" and this was about the one millionth time that Gracie has broken my heart.