A Deal Is a Deal

She was very old and much more frail than we had imagined. And she had a little one with her, her daughter we assumed. They were bloodied, as if they had been in a fight. Her daughter was missing most of one ear.

We were nervous, but we fed them. They were wary of us too, but too weak to refuse our kindness.

They came almost every night after that. And all that summer Charlie grew older and weaker and her daughter stronger and more robust.

And one night Charlie didn’t come. Her daughter tapped on our door. Her mangled ear glittered tragically in the moonlight. We gave her extra food. We knew we would never see Charlie again.

It has been six years since we last saw Charlie but her daughter, instantly recognizable by her ear, taps on our door several nights a week. She has no fear of us and we have no fear of her. Our cat treats her as a contemporary. Our toddler son Graham is enamored of her.

Charlie’s daughter has a family of her own now. Every year she has a new family in fact. And every year she lines her youngsters up and nudges them towards us one by one.

And sometimes we feel a little strange about the whole thing. We wonder if maybe Charlie’s dependence and her daughter’s dependence on us is wrong in some fundamental way: if perhaps we are somehow subverting the laws of nature.

But after all is said and done, we conclude, Charlie and her family were here long before we were.

And peanut butter sandwiches are cheap.

And a deal is a deal.

Photo courtesy of Don Mills Diva