• Essays

    They Still Need Us

    We were inside the house, my twenty-two month old son and me, and he seemed happy. We’d traveled all the previous day to get to Walla Walla, Washington for my sister’s graduation from university and both of us were ready for bed. Then, from far off, a rooster crowed. My son instantly started to cry. A terrified, gasping cry that would not be calmed. This had been happening all day: each time the rooster crowed, Abel wept. I cursed the rooster, but even then I knew it wasn’t its fault Abel was terrorized. It was mine. Upon arriving in Walla Walla the evening before, I had handed my son off…