“But if he don’t. That’s what I’m asking. How do I know about things like that, when Mama says one thing and Papa says another?”

Measure started to answer something easy, but he stopped himself—Alvin could see in his face how he made up his mind to say something serious. Something true, instead of something easy. “Al, I got to tell you, I wisht I knew. Sometimes I figure ain’t nobody knows nothing.”

“Papa says you know what you see with your eyes. Mama says you know what you feel in your heart.”

“What do you say?”

“How do I know, Measure? I’m only six.”

“I’m twenty-two, Alvin, I’m a growed man, and I still don’t know. I reckon Ma and Pa don’t know, neither.”

“Well, if they don’t know, how come they get so mad about it?”

“Oh, that’s what it means to be married. You fight all the time, but you never fight about what you think you’re fighting about.”

“What are they really fighting about?”

Alvin could see just the opposite thing this time. Measure thought of telling the truth, but he changed his mind. Stood up tall and tousled Alvin’s hair. That was a sure sip to Alvin Junior that a grown-up was going to lie to him, the way they always lied to children, as if children weren’t reliable enough to be trusted with the truth. “Oh, I reckon they just quarrel to hear theirselfs talk.”

Most times Alvin just listened to grown-ups lie and didn’t say nothing about it, but this time it was Measure, and he especially didn’t like having Measure lie to him.

“How old will I have to be before you tell me straight?” asked Alvin.

Measure’s eyes flashed with anger for just a second—nobody likes being called a liar—but then he grinned, and his eyes were sharp with understanding. “Old enough that you already guess the answer for yourself,” he said, “but young enough that it’ll still do you some good.”

“When’s that?” Alvin demanded. “I want you to tell me the truth now, all the time.”

Measure squatted down again. “I can’t always do that, Al, cause sometimes it’d just be too hard. Sometimes I’d have to explain things that I just don’t know how to explain. Sometimes there’s things that you have to figure out by living long enough.”

Alvin was mad and he knew his face showed it.

“Don’t you be so mad at me, little brother. I can’t tell you some things because I just don’t know myself, and that’s not lying. But you can count on this. If I can tell you, I will, and if I can’t, I’ll just say so, and won’t pretend.”