9780008390662

brave
Once, when we were still at the mall, I told Ivan how brave I thought he was.
The way he put up with everything that had happened to him and never
stopped being a good guy.
Ivan just looked at me. Cocked that big ol’ head of his. Nodded a bit.
“That’s not brave, Bob,” he finally said. “That’s just knowing what I can’t
change.”
“I call it brave,” I said. “I call it crazy brave.”
Ivan held a browning banana up to the light. Like it was the most beautiful
thing he’d ever seen in his long gorilla life.
I wondered whether he was going to eat it or draw it. You never knew with
Ivan.
“Seems to me there are lots of ways to be brave, Bob,” he said.
A tiny mouse, name of Eek, skittered across his cage floor. “Hey, Eek,” said
Ivan.
“Just checking for crumbs,” she said nervously, because she always sounded
nervous.
“Dibs on all leftovers,” I reminded her.
She looked so terrified that I relented. “Over there, behind the tire. Old carrot
top.”
“Respect, Bob,” she said, scampering off.