While marching past the Trump Towers in a large group, one of Gay’s friends returns from farther along with an eight or nine-year-old boy who lost his mom and sister. Gay puts the boy on his shoulders to give him a better view to spot his family, but the boy cries at the enormity of the gathering of people. The crying boy attracts several mothers who tell him he will be okay, and soon they begin chanting “Find his mom!” which brings the woman to them. The boy clings to his mother, wrapping arms and legs around her, and the woman cries, holding him close.
A few months ago, Gay cut down a tree in his backyard and chopped it into firewood. He hates felling trees because they are homes to so many creatures. He feels bad about that, and even worse when his partner looks out the window, visualizing the non-existent garden Gay had promised and instead sees the large pile of brush. When Gay bought this house in Indiana, his mother tried to persuade him to grow his grass so the neighbors wouldn’t burn his house down. Gay imagines that this fear was fueled by her experience being married to a Black man in the early 1970s, but knows he is in no danger, despite the Confederate flag hanging in the window of the house three doors down.
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By Ross Gay