Suddenly a high-pitched bark shouted out. Sammy stopped romping and jumped down to the floor, where Frenchie sat erect, staring at the interloper. The puppy crouched down in obeisance and another relationship was formed. The pup was already nearly twice the size of the little yellow dog, but Frenchie was the boss.

“Sorry I’m late,” I said while Sammy sniffed and Frenchie nipped.

“That’s okay, Daddy. I was waiting for you but I guess I fell asleep. Whose dog is that?”

“Yours.”

She stood up to hug me, then leaned back to appraise my appearance.

“What you lookin’ at?” I asked.

“Juice always told me to look you over when you come in late. He said that that was the way to tell if you were in trouble.”

Jesus, called Juice by his friends, was Feather’s adoptive brother. He’d been taking care of me ever since I took him in back in the early fifties.

“So what’s bothering you, daughter mine?”

“Who said anything was?”

“That blanket did.”

“The blanket talks to you?”

“You only wrap up in that old rag when you’re feeling sad or upset.”

Youth is beautiful. Feather’s eyes were clear and unafraid of the monster standing next to her.

“I’m scared to meet my uncle but I really want to too.”

“What are you afraid of?”

“Most of my friends get so mad at their parents. They can hardly wait to grow up and move away. They don’t have fathers like you or brothers like Juice.”

“What does that have to do with your uncle Milo?”

“I don’t know. I’m worried that if I go see him then somebody might take me away.”

“If they tried I’d send you to Monaco,” I said with complete conviction.

Sammy had started licking Feather’s fingers under Frenchie’s scrutiny.

“To Bonnie?”

Bonnie had been my girlfriend most of Feather’s life. We broke up because I didn’t know how to let her help me. So instead she ran to Ghana with an infirm tribal prince—a man who needed her more.

“Yes,” I said, “to Bonnie.”

“I thought you hated each other.”

“No, baby. We hurt each other but the love’s still there. I talk to her once a month or so. That’s how I knew that she and Joguye ran to Europe.”

“She said she’d take me?”

“Without hesitation.”

Feather yawned. I lifted her into my arms. By the time I’d carried her to the bed she was sound asleep.

I took the dogs downstairs and fed them a ritual meal. Ten minutes later they were curled up together, asleep in Frenchie’s bed.

Feather was still asleep when I looked in on her at 5:00 a.m.

I brewed French roast coffee in the electric percolator and drank the bitter brew with butter and strawberry jam on pumpernickel rye.