"What's this, daddy?"
I already knew what it was. I asked him about his metals every Saturday. Every Saturday morning he would go into his den and turn his music up really loud and just sit there, staring out of the window. Whenever the electric sounds of Earth, Wind & Fire would mellow out into the melodic waves of Marvin Gay or Harold Melvin and the Blue Notes, that's when I would know that it was ok to come in.
Whenever I would wander into the room before his music changed, he would tell me to get back out.
Daddy took the brass metal, with what looked to me like fifty ribbons attached to it from my outstretched hand, looked at it, turned it over, looked at it some more, and then handed it back to me.
"That's from the war, son." He would answer me patiently, the same questions over and over, every Saturday like clockwork. This Saturday he was up earlier than usual, and mama was asleep later than usual. He almost caught me and Sammy sneaking back into the house, but thankfully he was too focused on his Earth, Wind & Fire to notice that we were already dressed so early in the morning, and that we were tiptoeing through the kitchen.
Me and Sammy always snuck out to watch the sunrise. But we would always sneak back in before anyone else was up. Not this time, though.
"What's this one?" I picked up another metal that looked like an upside down star in a circle.
"That one is for helping my friends when they needed help."
I nodded and put the metal down. I already knew that. I went and wedged myself into daddy's armchair next to him.
"You saved their lives?"
He nodded. "We saved each other's lives, son. The whole time we were over there."
He looked at me like it was no big deal.
I looked at him like he was King of the world.
"I'm not a hero, son." This is what he always said to me. "I just did what we're supposed to do. Protect the people that we love. And sometimes people that we don't even know. Because it's the right thing to do." I nodded. I knew that, too. "That's what the Bible tells us to do, right Kenney?"
"Yes." I looked at him and my heart swelled with pride because I had a hero for a daddy.
He knew I wasn't fully checked in to what he was saying. "What does the Bible say, son?" I just stared at him. My mind had already wandered to images of war and daddy marching fiercely through the jungle like he was the bravest man in the world. Like he was a lion. A king of the whole jungle...
"Greater love hath no man than this..." he began, like always.
"...that a man lay down his life for his friends," I finished, staring up at him and wanting to be just like him.
"John 15:13," we recited together.
He nodded proudly. "That's right, son. Good job." I smiled at him and leaned back against him, trying to kick my legs out like his. "We always protect our friends, no matter what. And we don't have to be afraid, either, because what?"
"Because angels run with us."
"That's right. They're always there, always protecting us. No matter what." I nodded. I knew that, too. "So we can continue to do God's work, right?" I nodded. "Helping people is what we do. It's what Duvalle men do, Kenney. We don't hurt them." I nodded.
Sometimes Uncle Rico hurt people, but he wasn't a Duvalle man, like us. "Duvalle men talk to God, all the time. We listen for guidance. We ask God to protect us and our homes and the people that we love, every night, don't we?" I nodded. "How?"
"When we pray."
"That's right." He nodded thoughtfully. "Every night. Don't ever go to bed without covering your family, son."
I shook my head. "I won't."
"We all need each other to achieve anything great. See how mama and I work together to get things done?" I nodded. "You and your sisters have to do the same thing. Long after mama and I are gone, you all still have to work together, ok?"
I nodded and felt sad. I thought about me and Sammy's dream again.
"Not any time soon, son. We're not going anywhere anytime soon, but when I'm gone you're the man of the family, right?" I nodded. "What does that mean?"
"I make sure they eat."
He chuckled. "What else?"
"I eat, too. And pay bills." The way daddy was talking to me and looking at me, made me feel more like a man the more answers I got right. "And work," I boasted proudly, because I knew that's what he was going to ask next.
"Good job son! You seem focused today." He looked at me closely. "You and Sammy must have had a good view of the sunrise this morning. Must have gone to the train tracks. Be careful up there, son." I gasped and stared at him. "It centered you," he went on, bypassing my shock, "helped you find your middle. That's where all your answers are, Kenney. Whenever you forget who you are and whose you are, and what your mama and I are teaching you, you just go back to your center and reclaim it. Never lose your center, ok son?" I nodded, still gawking at him. "Who are you?"
"Kenney Duvalle." I said it with pride and conviction, just like he taught me.
"Whose are you?"
"Yours."
He nodded. "But who do you belong to, first?"
I stopped gawking and focused. That was my first wrong answer. "God. And then I'm yours and mama's. Sammy's, and...I guess Charity's too." I hated saying that I was Charity's because she was mean as hell and if she ever heard me say it, she would try to run me. "Aunt Jazz and Rico?" I slipped that in. I had never asked daddy about whether I belonged to Aunt Jazz and Uncle Rico before.
"Son, they love you too," he put his arm around my shoulder, and I knew we were talking man to man now. "But me and your mama are your parents, understand?" I nodded. "God helped us make you, and it was only me and your mama there with God when we made you, Sammy and Charity. You respect Jazz and Rico and love them because they're adults and because they love you, too, but you come from us. We are the ones inside you. In here." He pointed to my heart. "Understand?"
Not really, but I nodded anyway, because I didn't want to let him down.
"Daddy?"
"Yeah, son?" A smile played on his lips, like he already knew what I was about to ask him.
"How did you know me and Sammy were gone?" He chuckled. "And how did you know where we went?" I stared at him. "How do you know that?"
He looked straight into my eyes. "You think I don't know when my children are in the house and when they're not?" I stared back at him, not sure if I was in trouble or what. I shouldn't have asked about it. "And where my children are, and what they're doing?" I kept my mouth shut this time and waited for him to tell me what he wanted me to know. "I always know where you are, son. You, Sammy, Charity. And what you're doing. And who you're with. I have eyes on you. Don't ever forget that."
I nodded, in awe. "Eyes..."
He nodded and didn't explain any further. I hugged him around his strong neck with my puny arms and hoped that I would be strong just like him, with eyes, when I grew up. "I love you, daddy."
He hugged me back. "I love you, too, son."
"Are you gonna tell Sammy that you have eyes on us?"
He looked at me and gave a hearty chuckle. Daddy never laughed real loud, just a chuckle. I felt his chest rumble with laughter against me. He shook his head and looked toward the kitchen where we could hear mama and Sammy singing and making breakfast. Charity always slept late on Saturdays and woke up just in time to eat.
"Nah..."
I smiled. Then I wouldn't tell her, either. That would just be our secret.
Just between the men.