#underscoregoeff

Awsten abruptly stopped walking. Geoff, however, had grown used to this and was hardly surprised at all when Awsten dropped the wagon’s handle in favor of smashing his face into the side of Geoff’s leg, which he squeezed tightly. “I love you, Daddy!” 

Geoff patted his back. “And I you.” He waited for Awsten to let go so that they could resume their journey, but Awsten didn’t, even after ten seconds (which was a very long time for him). Just when Geoff was about to ask Awsten if he was alright, he heard a sniffle. 

“Oh, dear,” Geoff hummed, but he knew that Awsten wasn’t sad. “Come.” He reached down and pulled Awsten’s arms off of his leg and lifted him up. 

Awsten began to loudly sob. 

“Hush now... Hush...” 

Awsten did not hush. 

Geoff reached down for the handle of the wagon and, with Awsten in one hand and the wagon in the other, resumed walking home. 

“IIIIII wanna pull my wagon!” Awsten wailed tearfully. 

“Shall I set you down?” Geoff asked without stopping. (He already knew the answer.)

“No!” 

“Then I will pull the wagon today.” 

“O-kayyyyy.” Awsten sniffed and wiped at his face and then laid his head back down on Geoff’s shoulder. Geoff felt Awsten press his forehead against Geoff’s neck, and he smiled. Next, Awsten’s thumb would slip into his mouth - 

Yes. There it went. 

“No napping, please,” Geoff warned him warmly. “It is almost time for dinner, and it will be bedtime shortly after.” 

“And bath,” Awsten piped up.

“Yes, and bathtime.” 

“And read time.” 

“Yes, reading time, as well.” 

“My new books.” 

“Yes.” 

“The one with the mad pinecone.” 

Geoff chuckled. “Yes. Whichever books you would like.” 

“All of them,” Awsten whispered. 

Geoff turned his head and pressed a kiss to Awsten’s hair. 

---

Artie, will you be my donut dog? Geoff read as Awsten laughed hysterically in his lap. 

Mr. Bing, I would love to be your donut dog! 

From that moment on, Artie and Mr. Bing were inseparable. Artie liked being a donut dog even better than he liked being a donut.

Awsten was laughing so much that Geoff had to stop reading to laugh a bit himself. 

When the book ended, Awsten clapped and bounced on Geoff’s knee. “That was the funniest book ever!” he declared. 

“I am glad that you enjoyed it.” 

“Can you read it again?” 

Geoff shook his head. 

“Pleeeeaaaase? Read it again! Read it again! Donut book!” 

“Tomorrow,” Geoff promised. “You need to relax, and the book will only wind you up.” 

Awsten frowned. “Awwwwww,” he whined. 

“Tomorrow,” Geoff repeated. “In the meantime, would you like to hear a poem?” 

Without verbally responding, Awsten clambered off of Geoff’s lap and held his arms up. Geoff got to his feet and lifted Awsten onto his chest, where Awsten molded instantly to him and laid his head on Geoff’s shoulder. 

“I thought the earth remembered me,” Geoff began, and he crossed the room to turn Awsten’s light off. 

she took me back so tenderly, arranging her dark skirts, her pockets full of -

“Lichens and seeds,” they said together, Awsten’s voice a whisper, the way that it always was when he joined Geoff in a poem. Liiii-kins. He didn’t react when the room plunged into darkness.

I slept as never before, a stone on the river bed, nothing between me and the white fire of the stars but my thoughts, and they floated light as moths among the branches of the perfect trees.

Geoff gently kissed Awsten’s temple, and he returned to stand at Awsten’s bedside. 

All night I heard the small kingdoms breathing around me, the insects, and the birds who do their work in the darkness.

His voice dropped to a barely-audible murmur.

All night I rose and fell, as if in water, grappling with a luminous doom. By morning I had vanished at least a dozen times into something better.

Geoff closed his eyes, smelling the soft scent of Awsten’s shampoo. There was quiet for several seconds, and then Awsten pleaded, “More.” 

“That is the end.”

“Moooore, Daddy.” 

“One more, honeybee,” Geoff whispered. 

“Okay,” Awsten whispered back. He lifted his thumb into his mouth and reached up to stroke the hair near Geoff’s right ear. 

At Blackwater Pond the tossed waters have settled after a night of rain. I dip my cupped hands. I drink a long time. It tastes like stone, leaves, fire. 

Awsten pulled in a shaky breath. 

It falls cold into my body, waking the bones. I hear them deep inside me, whispering oh what is that beautiful thing that just happened?

With that, Geoff carefully deposited Awsten onto his bed and pulled the covers over him. 

“I never heard that one before,” Awsten whispered to Geoff in the darkness. 

“Yes, I know.”

“What’s it called?” 

“‘At Blackwater Pond.’” Geoff leaned down to allow Awsten to hug him goodnight.

“Blackwater Pond,” Awsten repeated in wonder after he’d given Geoff a kiss on the cheek.

“At Blackwater Pond.” 

“And it’s written by Mary Oliver, too?” 

“Yes.” Geoff hugged Awsten and kissed his forehead. “Goodnight. I will see you in the morning.” He started for the door, but Awsten’s voice stopped him. 

“Daddy?” 

“Yes, Awsten.” 

He sat up. “Tomorrow, after we read the donut book again, can you tell me At Blackwater Pond some more?” 

Geoff smiled. “I would be happy to.” 

“Yay!” Awsten cheered, and then he flopped back onto his pillow.