Milosz Read Free Page B

them.’
    â€¨Milo tries to forgive his father. Everyone has to move beyond blaming their parents, don’t they? Particularly if their parents are dead, or presumed dead. Increasingly Milo feels a seeping regret for opportunities lost, distances maintained, intentions misunderstood. After all, as his father was so fond of telling him, he’s had it easy. Milo was not a child in war-ravaged Poland, did not cower under a table while five drunken Russians raped his beloved sister. According to Gus, Poles were spineless, letting the Nazis, then the Russians, walk all over them. According to Gus, Poles turned on Poles so they could steal their pigs. Poles betrayed the Jewish boy who’d been buried under corpses and had run naked to Gus’s father’s barn. When the Nazis came for Jakob, he was in the woods searching for his cousin, even though it was assumed that the cousin was in a mass grave along with Jakob’s parents and uncle. The Nazis lured the Jews to town squares by telling them they were taking them to Palestine. Then they’d march them to the graves, force them to strip and trample the recently murdered to make room for their own soon-to-be-dead bodies.
    When Jakob returned from searching for his cousin, Gustaw’s father told him he had to leave immediately or they would all be shot. Jakob had become like a brother to Gus; they’d shared a bed and talked about outer space and how one day Jakob would fly a rocket to the moon. Gustaw never forgave his father for ordering Jakob to leave. He watched his friend creep into the woods like an animal. Within days he was back, shivering and begging for food. Gus’s mother packed him some bread and cheese. Gus’s father told Jakob that if he returned again, he would shoot him.
    Such grim reminiscences cause Milo tremors of compassion for his father, until he remembers Gustaw swatting his head after parent-teacher interviews. ‘How can my son be such an idiot ?’ Milo knew that Gus was longing for his other sons who weren’t idiots, the ones who died before they were born.
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    Robertson tosses the ball for the dog. Fortunately for Sal, Robertson, unlike normal children, is never bored by this activity. He can play fetch for hours.
    â€˜How goes it?’ Milo asks, approaching slowly because sudden movements startle the boy.  ‘Any snails about?’
    â€˜Didn’t look.’
    â€˜Did you go to school today?’
    â€˜Nope.’ Robertson has difficulty interacting with people but not with animals. Dogs strain against their leashes to lick his palms. ‘My dad left.’
    â€˜Did he say anything to you?’
    â€˜About what?’
    â€˜Why he was leaving?’
    Robertson begins speaking in the rushed manner he adopts when he doesn’t understand but wants to appear as though he does. ‘He’s tired. I don’t know, maybe he’s just tired of me, he works too hard, maybe he just needs a rest. Mummy says it’s all right. It’s just for now. I’m not easy to be around. I get mad and I don’t know why. I’m going to finish the patio.’ Since April Robertson has been laying patio stones on gravel in symmetrical patterns. Tanis said she knew he was different when he was three and lining up his toys. He would become extremely distressed if she tried to tidy up, thereby disturbing his order.
    â€˜It’s looking good,’ Milo says, offering Robertson some cashews. The boy takes a handful and scatters them around the garden for the squirrels. Sal, ball in mouth, pants at his feet. Robertson takes the ball and tosses it. Milo lies back in the grass, not wanting to crowd Robertson with conversation. It’s hard to imagine the house without Christopher. Tanis will drink alone. Robertson will seek refuge in World of Warcraft without Christopher to stop him.
    Scratching at flea bites, Milo sees Tanis preparing dinner. How strange to set