Enter Laughing
My brother and I assumed
that it was just another Monday -
it is tempting to add something here
like "in retrospect, foolishly"
because that is what I would
normally write, but it's always
easiest to see the foolishness
of the past when we are safely out of its
grip. We sat on our front porch,
waiting for the school bus; across the street
mothers were kissing fathers goodbye,
kids were streaming outdoors.
The milkman had just parked his truck
and was loading up a wire crate with cartons,
when my brother and I, glancing up at the
sound of rattling glass bottles, saw the milkman
freeze and point up at the sky, screaming
hysterically. We both jumped up and ran out
into the yard, looking up at where the milkman
was pointing, into the blue, clear morning sky,
and we saw, quite clearly, quite undeniably -
for its contours and shapes were unmistakable -
nothing at all. The milkman dropped the crate
and glass bottles shattered and milk exploded
onto the sidewalk in front of our house. Our mother
ran onto the porch at the sound and looked up also,
calling out to us, What is it, what is it, and my brother
and I had looked at each other and then at her,
and shrugged. We all stood, motionless for a moment,
until another mother, Mrs. Kupcin from next door,
went to the milkman and put her arm around his shoulder
and led him into her house. My brother and I turned
and walked to the bus stop, our mother going in and
coming back out with a broom to sweep up the broken
bottles. Watch out for the glass, she called to us,
as we sidestepped chunks of dead milk bottle.
What was that, my brother asked, and I looked over his
shoulder, up into the morning sky and saw again
repeating over and over, limitless to the farthest
reaches of observable time and vision, nothing.
Many years later, I was playing at the Kupcins' house
with their son, and Mrs. Kupcin brought me a glass of
milk. It had been a long time since I had thought of the
milkman, but the glass before me brought him back to mind,
and so I asked her what had happened when she had
brought him inside. She didn't answer me for a long time
but when she did, she said: go play with Ryan.
And I was confused, because her son was named Alexander.