Keeping Watch

Journal

When my brother passed, the dog was the only one who still expected him at six.

I took Scout home because leaving him felt like another leaving.

I brought him in.

He sleeps in the hallway facing the door. I leave a light on.

We are both waiting for someone who isn't coming.

The light stays on.

For weeks we moved around each other like polite ghosts.

He watched the door. I watched him.

We waited anyway.

This morning he put his head on my shoe and stayed there.

I said, "All right. We'll keep watch together." And we have.

Together was the deal.

I took Scout around the block at six, my brother's hour.

He stopped at the old stoop and waited.

I waited with him.

I said my brother's name out loud. Scout's ears went up.

We walked home together, not looking back as much.

We kept walking.