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I leave the fire roaring and open a can of beans I set it on a stone near the fla He sighs and rests his chin on my lap I scratch his head and reht with hiain Soet I ever loved hiive Shiloh the beans to usted by the way he eats He devours them sloppily, licks the can for a while, then turns to me

"Okay" I s the familiar "buddy" before it has a chance to fully foro"

Shiloh rises to his haunches and sits at my feet His spine is erect, his eyes alert His ears are cocked because the tone of ests a command

It’s time for me to do this, but I don’t knohat this is

"Go on" I point into the black woods

Shiloh stares at me ide brown eyes After a moment, he lies down His paw finds its way onto my knee

I push it off and stand up

"Get out of here" I wavenow I’m not your owner You’re on your own" I pause "You’re free"

He whiets up and strides in a so" I lift my foot as if to kick hiins to lickdissipates I wonder if my family kne hard it would be to leave him I wonder if theyht"

We assus extended toward the fire, Shiloh sprawled across my knees I reach for my backpack and unzip it

I look inside at the worn blue blanket I slept hen I was young, the baseball I taught myself to catch on endless afternoons alone in our backyard There’s a heavy photo album one of h I’m the only one in the pictures

Pictures of me as a baby, a toddler, a little boy--always alone No one ever taughtin any of the photos They end abruptly, dwarfed by blank pages where more life should be

I pull out the primers hich I learned to read and write A deck of cards with naked woun I used to shoot at doves, robins, squirrels I find the only CD I’ve ever owned--a burned copy of Bunk Johnson froe sale I listened to it once in Critias’s car when my aunts and uncles were asleep

I’s

I toss my childhood into the fire, I watch the sparks kick up I inhale the s

What worriesI’d be beaten, or worse, if the others found theht

I pull out Eureka’s racing bib from a 10K she won last summer When she unpinned it frolided toward me I tucked it into my pocket before anyone could see It arm from her body and it was mine The safety pins are still on it Nuas station where I dared to stand behind her in line, some of her hair tucked into the back of her t-shirt, so her shoulder blade My heart raced as I slid the receipt fro the cashier’s eyes

West Lafayette Stop-N-Go Cashier: Macy Time: 1:34 pm Apple Mentos 103

I pull out a T-shirt that reads The Faith Healers They’re a band froh school I found the shirt at the Salvation Army--a wife-beater someone wrote the places and dates of local shows on with a permanent marker I stole it so I could wear it in front of her I never have I see no ridiculous ht spark a conversation:

Hey, I love that band

Really? Me too!

Did the shirt shrink in the dryer or so wife-beaters two sizes too sirl I love I hold the them into the fire The receipt vanishes; the bib curls into flames The shirt beco inIt’s replaceable and irreplaceable There are millions like it but none of them like this My worn copy of The Great Gatsby is the only book I can stand to read

The book is how I know I love Eureka When I read it I find words for what she does to me And when I close it I always feel the awful ache upon reentering the world

Albion’s baffling words return: He is not like the last one

Who?

I burn Gatsby slowly, feeding hie into the fire I recite the book’s last words as they burn:

"So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past"