Fathers, sons, and brothers : the men in my family by Lott Bret

Author:Lott, Bret
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: General, Biography & Autobiography, Biography / Autobiography, Biography/Autobiography, Literary, Personal Memoirs, Biography & Autobiography / General, Lott, Bret, Novelists, American, Men, Families
Publisher: New York : Washington Square Press
Published: 2000-10-18T16:00:00+00:00

Just yesterday the sky was the old slate gray we'd grown to recognize as a snow sky when we lived up in Massachusetts, a flat and even gray that signaled what was to come.

It came, gave us ten inches of snow the day before Christmas Eve, then cleared early this morning to reveal this day, a day filled with snow angels and makeshift cardboard sleds and trying to dig out with heavy garden shovels. Nobody has any snow shovels. No sleds. I couldn't even find my gloves. This isn't Massachusetts. It's Charleston, South Carolina; there hasn't been a white Christmas in fifty years, the news anchors and the papers have all trumpeted. Ten inches of snow in one day and one night.

"Faster," Jacob says again.

But I stop instead. We are headed away from our house, even though I can feel the temperature dropping, the sky growing dark. A few people on the street have already turned on their Christmas lights: white electric candles in the two-story to my right, alternating greens and reds lining the roof on the house to my left. We are headed away simply because Jacob asked me to tow him. I look up, see the sky directly above us, a blue so crisp and close and certain it seems I might be able to reach up, burn my fingers on the cold of it. I wait for Jacob to say something, to protest or urge me on or, simply, ask why we've stopped.

I turn, look down at him. He is lying back on the inner tube, his legs over the end closest to me, his mittened hands out to either side. We found the mittens still clipped to the sleeves of the hooded gray snow jacket he has on, a leftover from when Zeb was his age and we lived in Ohio. His head is back, the hood drawn down tight around his face: red cheeks and nose and chin, mouth, eyes. He has on sneakers, two pairs of my

100 FATHERS, SONS, AND BROTHERS

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