Newly Wild Hedgehog

A PILLAR OF THE COMMUNITY Old Carl came knocking on my screen door again last Tuesday. Every time it’s, “Jacob, I need 20 dollars. Don’t ask why.” He knows I have to ask why. “I’m out of kite materials.”

It’s true that the children at Littlefield Park have grown up expecting Carl to spend his august days assembling box kites, handing them out, and then drifting away into the wild brush. This time I told him no.

“But the big kite race is this weekend!” he said. “How would it look if I showed up with nothing to fly?” “Just don’t go,” I said. “‘Just don’t go?’ Why don’t I just drift away into the wild brush and never show my face in this town ever again?” he said. I’m sure he was manipulating me, but save my heart if I could have slept that night had I let him leave my kitchen that way. He lost the race, he later told me, but every kite in the sky that day had been built by his hands.