She decided that was a disappointing answer and announced that Captain Buttons still believed clouds were sheep.

For the next twenty minutes she talked about her preschool teacher, a missing purple mitten, and the adventure she expected in Boston.

I listened.

Partly because her stories were wonderful.

Mostly because I was afraid that any careless question would make her feel responsible for a history she had never chosen.

If she was my daughter, she deserved to be a child before she had to be part of my explanation.

PART 4