Sam nodded enthusiastically.
— “She said I had the right hands for it. That I could feel where the pain was hidden.”
Andrew looked at Matthew, who was listening with rapt attention. It was the most engaged he’d been in years.
— “Karen, maybe we could…”
— “No. Don’t even think about it.” Karen’s voice was firm. “We are going home, and I am not discussing this in public.”
She started to push Matthew’s chair, but he grabbed the wheels, stopping her.
— “Dad, please. Just once. If it doesn’t work, I promise I won’t ask again.”
Andrew looked at his son, then at Sam, then at Karen. The tension was thick.
— “Sam,” Andrew said finally. “Where exactly do you get this clay?”
— “Andrew!” Karen protested again.
— “It’s just a question, Karen.”
Sam pointed toward the foothills bordering the city.
— “There’s a trail that leads to a spring. It’s about a twenty-minute hike from here. My grandmother always went at sunrise.”
— “And you go there alone?”
— “Yes, sir. Since she passed, I’ve been looking after a few folks in the neighborhood. Nothing big, just back pain and stuff. But I’ve never tried to help someone who couldn’t see.”
Andrew made a decision that surprised even himself.
— “Alright. How about you come by our house tomorrow? We can talk about it properly.”
— “Andrew, have you lost your mind?” Karen whispered, though loud enough for everyone to hear.
— “Karen, we have a big yard. If he wants to try something, at least it’ll be in a controlled environment. And if it doesn’t work, Matthew will know we tried.”
Sam smiled for the first time.
— “You’d really let me try?”
— “We’ll talk tomorrow. Do you know where Oak Street is?”
Sam shook his head.
— “It’s in the Heights. Number 47. Big house with the black gate.”
— “I’ll find it.”
— “Two o’clock tomorrow, then.”
Matthew beamed. Karen, however, was visibly fuming.
— “See you tomorrow, Matthew,” Sam said, lightly touching the boy’s shoulder. “Take care.”
— “Bye, Sam. Thank you.”
As they walked to the car, Andrew felt the weight of Karen’s silence. She buckled Matthew in with more force than necessary.
— “Andrew, I hope you know what you’re doing,” she said finally as they pulled out of the parking lot.
— “I hope so too,” Andrew muttered.
On the way home, Matthew was more talkative than he’d been in months. He asked about the park, the sounds he’d heard, the way Sam’s voice sounded. It was as if something inside him had woken up. Karen remained silent the whole way. Andrew knew he was in for a long night.
When they got home—a beautiful two-story house in a quiet cul-de-sac—Andrew helped Matthew inside while Karen went straight to the kitchen, leaving the groceries on the counter.
— “Dad,” Matthew said as Andrew helped him out of his jacket. “Do you really think Sam can help me?”
