Page 67
“Morning, Caleb.”
No response.
Milo poured himself a cup of coffee. “Did you have some breakfast?” Caleb shrugged, and Milo picked up a cereal bowl from the sink. “All evidence points to yes. Corn Flakes or Shredded Wheat?” Caleb leaned back in his chair and kicked the legs. “I think I’m in the mood for some yogurt and a banana. I’m actually in the mood for a bagel, but we’re all out.” He took a yogurt from the refrigerator and grabbed a banana from a basket on the counter. He sat across from Caleb and took a sip of his coffee.
He peeled the banana and took a bite. “Can I borrow a piece of paper?”
Caleb pushed the paper toward Milo, then the box of crayons.
“Thank you.” He studied the paper for a moment, then took out a blue crayon and drew a horse. It wasn’t a very good likeness, but you could tell it was a horse. When he finished, he held it up. “What do you think?” Caleb cocked his head, and Milo looked at the drawing. “It’s a horse.” He turned it back to Caleb. “Let’s see you do better.”
Caleb scowled for a moment, then took another piece of paper and a brown crayon. He took several minutes to draw a horse, then showed it to Milo.
“Right. Horses are brown. What was I thinking?”
Caleb smiled, then caught himself and scowled again. “Black too.”
“Yes, of course. There are black horses. Are you sure there aren’t any blue ones?”
“No blue.”
“My mistake.” He looked at the drawing again. “But other than the color, it’s not bad, right?”
“Good job, Mr. Milo.”
“Thank you.”
Wilda walked into the room, and Caleb grew somber again. “What are we doing in here?”
“Drawing horses.”
Wilda looked at the two drawings. “Very good, guys.”
“I was informed that there are no blue horses, though.”
“Right. But it’s still good.”
“Thank you.”
“When you’re done eating and drawing, would you like to finish the fireplace?”
“Give me ten minutes.”
She turned to Caleb. “It’s really nice out this morning. Do you want to go outside and play?” Caleb shrugged. “Well, if you decide to, stay on the porch or in the front yard.” When he didn’t respond, she said, “Caleb, I know you’re upset, but that doesn’t mean you get to be rude to me.” Caleb looked at her, sighed, then nodded. He got to his feet, hugged her, then went out the back door.
Wilda looked at Milo. “Obviously, I told him about Mathias not coming home.”
“I figured.”
She picked up Milo’s drawing. “Thank you for doing this with him.”
“It’s pretty good, right?”
“Would you like me to hang it on the refrigerator?”
He smiled. “Right next to his, yes. He put four words together right before you came in. He was placating me, but still, a full sentence.”
“Do you suppose he’ll ever talk to me?”
