I am 7-years old and my neighbor takes care of me while my mother works nights.
Mostly he watches TV, but never too loud because that would keep me awake.
We don’t talk much.
I hardly see him at all because my mother puts me to bed, and then he comes over.
One night though I hear him on the phone. I can’t make out the words until he yells, “There’s no such thing as the northern lights.”
He hangs up and turns to see me behind him.
“Why aren’t you in bed?” he asks.
“I had a bad dream.”
“Do you want some milk?”
“No.”
“Do you want me to call your mom?”
“No.”
“Well, come watch TV until you get tired.”
I find a place on the couch among the unfolded blankets.
“Do you like Johnny Carson?” he asks. “You’ll like Johnny Carson. He’s funny.”
We watch, and when he laughs I laugh too, not knowing what anything means.
Soon I am tired, and he tells me I should go back to bed.
He walks me to my room and stands at the door as I get under the covers.
When he sees that I’m settled, he goes back to his chair.
Finally, as I’m drifting off to sleep, I remember that I’ve seen the northern lights–once the summer before when my mom had the night off and we stayed up past my bedtime. I want to tell my neighbor, but I am tired and I don’t know what he’ll say if I tell him he is wrong.
