Love in the Present Tense by Catherine Ryan Hyde Page B

and the guy was watching us go. He had lit a cigarette and was smoking and watching us walk home.
    But then we turned a corner and he didn’t try to follow. He let home be a secret thing from him.
    He let us be safe.

    Leonard slept with the pictures on his pillow. He slept all wrapped around the giraffe. In the morning I asked if I should put the pictures somewhere safe.
    â€œWhere?” he wanted to know.
    â€œI don’t know. Somewhere they can’t get hurt or lost.”
    â€œCan I still see them whenever I want?”
    â€œAnytime you want.”
    â€œâ€™Kay, then,” he said. “I think so.”

    For days I looked into every car I walked by.
    Most cars don’t have the keys left in, but one always will. If you look into enough cars, for enough days, one will always have the keys left in.
    Then you can go wherever you need to go.
    On our way up the coast it was night, and Leonard looked over at the moon and said it was racing us. He wanted to know who I thought would win. I told him I thought it would come out a tie.
    Then he slept the whole rest of the way.

LEONARD,
age
5: dangling dog
    When I got dropped at Mitch’s house, he was watching the six o’clock news. After Pearl left I sat down and we watched together.
    It had been raining for a long time. Days.
    On the news they were showing this guy being helicoptered out of the big concrete river thing. He’d been walking his dog in there, and then the water came up and the save-you team had to go in and get him. And get the dog. Saver-guy put on a harness and they lowered him on this rope, and he held on to the guy and the guy held on to his dog and then they just flew on out of there.
    I put my hands over my eyes. Well, over my glasses. I cupped my hands over my glasses so I couldn’t see, but so I wouldn’t have to take them off and clean them after. You learn these things.
    â€œWhat?” Mitch said.
    â€œI can’t look.”
    â€œYou afraid he’s going to drop that dog?”
    â€œDon’t tell me,” I said. Last I’d seen, the dog was just kind of dangling there. Swinging. And the guy had him under the arms. A big dog, like a German shepherd but maybe some other things, too. I’m sure the guy was holding on fierce tight, but it looked iffy. “Only tell me if it turns out okay.”
    A few seconds went by and then Mitch said, “It’s okay.”
    I took my hands down off my glasses.
    They were already on to another story.
    â€œWhat was wrong with your mom?” he said.
    â€œI dunno,” I said. “I thought everything was fine.”

    Later that night he had put me to bed on his couch downstairs. But he was still watching TV. It was this cop show.
    The cops were all the good guys.
    He was sitting next to me on the couch and I think he thought I was asleep. I could hear Pebbles and Zonker making little happy noises in the corner.
    I guess I must have started to sing. But I wasn’t really thinking about the fact that I was singing. I was just doing it.
    â€œWhat’s that?” Mitch said.
    â€œWhat’s what?”
    â€œWhy aren’t you asleep? What’s that thing you’re singing?”
    It was the song Pearl and I used to sing at bedtime.
    â€œIt’s nothing,” I said.
    â€œWhy aren’t you asleep?”
    â€œI dunno,” I said. “Just can’t.”
    I sat up and put my glasses on and we watched the rest of that cop show together. You could tell exactly who the bad guys were, and they got theirs in the end.
    Then the eleven o’clock news came on, and they showed the guy with the dog again, hanging from the helicopter.
    I put my hands over my glasses again.
    â€œLeonard,” Mitch said. “Buddy. If he didn’t drop that sucker on the live footage, he’s not going to drop him on the video replay.”
    â€œYuh,” I said. “I knew that.”

    I woke up late. I think I was having