The Laughter by Sonora Jha

Author:Sonora Jha
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2023-02-14T00:00:00+00:00

On the drive home, the boy slept, his head lolling about against his seatbelt in the front passenger seat. The dog slept on a pile of blankets in the backseat. I still shook hard, every few minutes, from the aftermath of the events. I played over and over in my head the alternative scenario. Dead dog. Dead boy. Live dog. Dead boy. Live dog. Dead boy’s body airlifted with a split skull and twisted leg. I wanted more than anything to stop at my usual bar on the way home, to get a drink. Whiskey would be like a mother’s kiss to me right now.

I feel brave when I am alone. No kidding.

I looked over at the sleeping child. I felt a rush of tenderness. A man can no more love the thing he fears than he can predict who he will be when fear arrives.

The boy stirred awake as we arrived into the heart of Seattle. He shook his head, then stared at me.

I turned to smile at him. When I looked back ahead at the road, he still kept staring.

“You saved my life,” he said. “Thank you.”

I frowned. “I didn’t. You saved your own life. And you saved my dog’s life. I should be thanking you!”

The boy looked ahead into the traffic, as if moving these facts around in his head. Then, he chuckled softly.

I thought he was losing his mind. “What is it?” I said.

“Your face. When you came back and see me sitting there.”

“I bet I looked like I saw a ghost.”

“You made the sign of the holy cross.”

It was my turn to stare at the boy. “No, I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did. You made the sign of the holy cross.”

He laughed. I let him.

When the boy was quiet, I said, “Please let me thank you with a gift. A gesture of my profound gratitude for saving Edgar. And for saving yourself.”

“Ah, no. No, thank you. I am grateful to be alive. But . . .”

“Yes?”

“But please don’t tell my aunt what happened.”

“Are you crazy? Of course, I have to tell her. I have been going over in my head the words I will say to her. I’ll have to calm her first and then apologize, then give her the details and apologize again. I am just so glad we’re not taking you home dead in an ambulance.”

“Please. She is already too guarding of me. She will not let me go anywhere.”

“Maybe for a few days, she will be that way. But then she will settle down. I will tell her that this is how boys turn into men. I will calm her as much as I can, but we must tell her.”

The boy let out a frustrated sigh and fell quiet.

“So. Tell me what gift I may give you,” I said.

The boy thought for a while. Then, he said, “It’s not a thing. It’s an action. An activity.”

“Okay . . .” I said. “Please don’t tell me it’s hiking.”

He laughed. “Can I please use your computer? I will not do email.

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