Agnes Came Home Early from Ireland and Found Her Grandson Locked Out of Her Tulsa House

I wiped down the counters with a damp rag while the sound of his engine faded off toward the county blacktop.

Benji sat on the rug by the refrigerator.

He stacked three wooden blocks, tapped them over, and stacked them up again.

I asked him whether he wanted a warm bath before bed.

He nodded without looking up.

At eight o’clock the next morning, sunlight reached the edge of my kitchen table.

Benji was asleep in his room.

I sat by myself with a fresh pot of coffee and my old green canvas incident logbook.