Felix by Sofia Greenberg - Humble Pie

Felix
by
Sofia Greenberg
I. Stasis
Felix was a delicate boy, mature for a five-year-old. In the last days of summer he
practiced singing outside his mother’s trailer, his golden hair washed in the valley’s green
light – a child of foliage and sun.
At night mother laid a black tablecloth on the large Oak table in the kitchen, which was
also the living room. When the black tablecloth lay on the table, the long candles were set
out also. Always the candles went with the cloth, like the stars go with the night.
Each time mother lit the candles Felix measured them with his finger. Two fingers long,
one finger, a half, a nail. Dinner light was candlelight and even then, Felix knew this was
romantic. Romance was eating dinner by candlelight with the person you love, who is
dying.
II. Transition
Mother had been sick for a year, but was afraid of the treatment. As soon as Felix stopped
breastfeeding, Mother was sick. It was as if her breast missed Felix’s suckling so much
that it grew a tumor. Felix thought that all mothers began to die when their children
stopped nursing.
In October the space heater came out of the shed, which was also the doghouse, before
the coyotes got Jack. The space heater was one of Felix’s favorite household objects.
When he sat down, the heater was about his size, and it emitted a droning warmth and
glowed orange from within. He stared lovingly at its slotted robot face and breathed in
the burning dust.