Зима тревоги нашей

           Sometimesamanseemstoreversehimselfsothatyouwouldsay,"Hecan’tdothat.It’soutofcharacter."Maybeit’snot.Itcouldbejustanotherangle,oritmightbethatthepressuresaboveorbelowhavechangedhisshape.Youseeitinwaralot—acowardturningheroandabravemancrashinginflames.Oryoureadinthemorningpaperaboutanice,kindfamilymanwhocutsdownwifeandchildrenwithanax.IthinkIbelievethatamanischangingallthetime.Buttherearecertainmomentswhenthechangebecomesnoticeable.IfIwantedtodigdeepenough,Icouldprobablytracetheseedsofmychangerightbacktomybirthorbefore.Recentlymanylittlethingshadbeguntoformapatternoflargerthings.It’sasthougheventsandexperiencesnudgedandjostledmeinadirectioncontrarytomynormaloneortheoneIhadcometothinkwasnormal—thedirectionofthegroceryclerk,thefailure,themanwithoutrealhopeordrive,barredinbyresponsibilitiesforfillingthebelliesandclothingthebodiesofhisfamily,cagedbyhabitsandattitudesIthoughtofasbeingmoral,evenvirtuous.AnditmaybethatIhadasmugnessaboutbeingwhatIcalleda"GoodMan."

           AndsurelyIknewwhatwasgoingonaroundme.Marullodidn’thavetotellme.Youcan’tliveinatownthesizeofNewBaytownandnotknow.Ididn’tthinkaboutitmuch.JudgeDorcasfixedtrafficticketsforfavors.Itwasn’tevensecret.Andfavorscallforfavors.