“Things wear out over time,” I said.

“You notice the problem and you fix whatever you can.”

“What if you can’t fix it?”

I put the screwdriver down.

“Then you go find somebody who knows how to help.”

He thought about that for much longer than any eight-year-old should have had to.

I wondered how many times he had stared at the stove, the shed, or the locked bedroom door and decided there was no one who could help him.

That afternoon I phoned his school.