Page 104 of Trusting Skulls

“Thank you,” she says quietly.

“You’re welcome. Are you tired?”

She shakes her head no.

“Do you want to watch another one?”

Again, she shakes her head in the negative, but this time she sits up and faces me. So, I do the same.

“Go ahead. You can ask me.”

She knows I have questions, but she should also know I won’t voice them.

“When did you fall in love with theWizard of Oz?” I ask instead.

She laughs lightly. “Not what I was talking about, but I’ll answer. It was one of Dad’s favorites. He was a big fan of old movies.”

I’m surprised by her answer.

“They weren’t always absent. There was a time when money and circumstance kept them home.”

The crickets chirp around us, filling the silence.

“My dad was a book lover,” I say. “Willow and I didn’t watch too many movies when we were kids. My father tried to keep us away from technology as much as he could.”

She smiles, always happy to listen to me talk about my dad. “I used to read all the time, but I haven’t read a book since my freshman year of high school,” Lexie admits.

Her head drops, and I see she misses it.

“My favorite book is my survival guide. Only because it was the last book my dad gave to me.” I tap my finger over her knee. “I’m going to tell you a secret, but you can’t make fun of me. What I really love is poetry.”

My words light up her face. “What’s your favorite poem?” she asks.

“Do you like poetry too?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know, but I want to learn about all of the things you love.”

I take a deep breath. The Lexie I saw that day, sitting at the gun range, talking about handwritten letters, is back. She’s more of a deep thinker than anyone gives her credit for. I’ll do anything to nurture this side of her, because I think it’s the real her.

“It’s called “The Laughing Heart” by Charles Bukowski,” I tell her.

“I’ll have to look it up,” she says dreamily, tipping her head to look up at the stars.

“You don’t have to. I’ve memorized it.”

Her gaze drops to mine as I recite it to her.

“Your life is your life

Don’t let it be clubbed into dank submission.

Be on the watch.

There are ways out.

There is a light somewhere.

It may not be much light but

---