For Ricky

Fickle memory leaps like a shadow cat,

Sprung from a closet

into light and color of day,

And there you were, suddenly and explicably, from decades past

With your gangly arms and legs, oversized feet and hands –

your strange appearance like an over-tall Boo Radley,

pale and silent.

One day, at recess, I'd heard shouting

and the sing-song cadence of mockery.

Some boys had tied you to a tree with a jump-rope.

They were throwing kickballs at you,

And calling you names.

You remained silent,

but your flowing tears shattered me.

I remember calculating the risk of rushing to your rescue,

But instead, allowing self-preservation to prevail.

So, I stood there

While the vision of that cruelty branded itself on me;

Me, who was now suddenly complicit.

In the passing weeks, I tried to assuage my guilt by saying hi,

sitting by you when no one would.

One day, you startled me with the sound of your voice.

(I’d never really heard you speak.)

Your words were slow, and your voice husky.

I have a zoo in my back yard. Do you want to see it?

And so, one day, I walked to your house after school,

Apprehensive, but equally curious to see this “zoo.”

Your back yard was like another world.

You must have had kind parents because someone had built row

Upon row of shelves, holding one habitat after another, all carefully curated.

There were countless types of lizards, toads, snakes, birds

and all manner of furry things.

You knew everything about them – their genus and species, their diets and habits.

This was a kingdom where you were king.

Here, no one made fun of your gangly arms and giant hands

Because yours were the hands that rescued, fed, and gently held.

I lost track of you after that. I think your family moved away.

But here I am, so many years later, and I find myself

thinking of you again, wondering what became of you.

I searched Facebook, scanning through a raft of others with your common name,

Until one caught my eye.

The banner read, “Ricky Livingston’s Wildlife,” and then, “I need a place to

share videos of the wildlife that comes in my back yard.”

And there you were, now with silver hair and glasses, but the same.

I scroll through your photos, hundreds of them,

Birds at feeders, deer startled in the lens of night-vision cameras,

squirrels and foxes, rows of vegetables and flowers.

Your kingdom.

And one photo of you, rake in hand, smiling.