Saving Elijah

to camp.
    "Oh, yes, he's fine. He has to go for an operation every few years." Her face was very tired.
    "Octopus," Miss Stanakowski said, and some of the children repeated it. Elijah sat and gazed at the pictures, until Miss Stanakowski told the class to get ready to go. "Can I see?" Elijah asked.
    Miss Stanakowski smiled and handed him the book. By now several other mothers had arrived, and we all went in to help sort out coats and knapsacks and boots. Elijah was still sitting on the floor, oblivious to the hubbub around him, slowly turning the pages of the picture book with his pudgy fingers the way he always did.
    I bent down. "That's a beautiful book, isn't it, Elijah?"
    He gave me a hug and a big smile, then went back to the book. I tried to coax him into his snow pants, but he wouldn't budge. The other kids were already starting to clear out. Miss Stanakowski said goodbye to the last little girl, then came over to us.
    "I doubt we'll have school tomorrow," she said, glancing out the window at the whirling snow. "Or the next day."
    I stood up. "That'll be a break for you."
    "Enough is enough already. I love my class. I wouldn't exchange these for any kids on earth." She looked at Elijah and smiled. "It was his idea that I show this book to the class at story time, you know. He found it in the book corner this morning. Right, Elijah?"
    He nodded without looking up, and his fingers turned over another page.
    "Okay, little guy," I said. "Why don't we go now before the snow is up to our ears?"
    Reluctantly, he closed the book and stood up, still clutching it.
    "I think we have to leave the book here, honey."
    He pushed out his lower lip.
    "That's all right," Miss Stanakowski said. "He can have it."
    The last thing I wanted was a tantrum. "You're sure?"
    "Of course."
    I started to help him get into his snowsuit.
    "You know what he said to me today when we were having our snack?" the teacher said. "I spread peanut butter on his cracker, and he told me I looked like an angel."
    I zipped up his hood, looked him in the eyes. "Where did you hear that word, Elijah?"
    He pushed his glasses up on his nose. "From you, Mommy."
    But I had never mentioned angels to him, any more than I had ever said anything to him about babies in stomachs.
    "What does an angel look like?" I asked him.
    He laughed and pointed to Miss Stanakowski.
    "Miss Stanakowski is an angel. But don't angels have wings?"
    He nodded. "Some have lots of wings."
    I stared. "Did you see a picture of an angel with lots of wings?"
    He shook his head no. "Some angels are teachers and some angels make you forget." He pointed at Miss Stanakowski's bulging stomach. "She knows."
    What in the world was he talking about?
    "And some angels scare Mommy," he said, gazing up at me.
    I glanced at Miss Stanakowski, who seemed only perplexed by all this, but I was suddenly, staggeringly frightened.
    Then Elijah, just as suddenly, threw his arms around me and gave me his Schwarzenegger hug, and I put it out of my mind.

nineteen
    The first Monday in March was unbelievably cold, and set a record for the date. That night, as a wicked and bitter wind whipped around the house, sending snowflakes dancing across the yard, Sam came up behind me. I was fixing dinner.
    "Hey, honey." He kissed my neck. "You put out for strangers?" It was a familiar routine for us, and it went both ways. We put out for horny bastards, lizards (lounge and otherwise), floozies, turkeys, nerds, etc. It was "strangers" tonight because we hadn't made love in almost two months, a record for us.
    "Only for strangers I love," I said.
    "Later, baby."
    "Later, stranger."

    *    *    *

    Back to our normal routine, we all ate dinner together as a family that night, filling each other in on the day's events and the next day's plans. Elijah had shown us his Creatures of the Deep book every night since he got it, and now he showed it again. I announced that I was planning to go back to my writing class at the Jewish Community Center the next day, ignored Alex's comment about geezer day camp. Sam said he'd struggled all day to come up with a campaign concept for a new lemon-lime soft drink.
    Kate suggested calling it Lemonitious. "Then you could do a jingle using words that rhyme with that. Delicious. Nutritious. Scrumptitious. Like that." She started to sing a tune, using the words.
    " 'Scrumptitious' isn't a word, asshole," Alex said, frowning.
    "Alex, must you use that kind of talk," Sam said.
    "Don't even pay any