Elliott became sick around the last week of the summer before eighth grade.
     I was worried when he didn’t show up for the first two weeks of school. I was so worried, that by the end of the first week I rode my bike over to his house afterschool.

    It was his mom who had greeted me with a smile – looking back now, I realized it was forced and her eyes were red and puffy – back then I must have chalked it up to allergies.

     I had asked if Elliott could come play and she had very politely told me that Elliott was out with his father. She had offered to give me a ride home, but I declined. I left his house not feeling any different.

    Father? Elliott said that he didn’t have a father, just his mom.

    Obviously, I knew that Elliott had a dad – my parents had given me the “birds and the bees” talk the beginning of the summer – but he just never really talked about him.

    To Elliott, it was always him and his mom against the world. So, to hear that he was with his father was strange.

    Elliott told me about his father once, not that there was much to tell because back than Elliott didn’t know a whole lot about him. Just that his name was Simon Olsen and he worked as a botany professor at the local college (he would retire a year before I entered college).

    From what Elliott said, he wasn’t a bad dad or mean to him or his mom. He just was in Elliott’s life one moment and moved out the next. No tears, just there; occupying space in his house and then not there; living across town.

    I was confused, I couldn’t stand the thought of my dad not being around. But Elliott explained that his dad wasn’t really home to begin with. He preferred to stay back at campus in the greenhouses.

   “Sometimes people leave, not cuz they don’t like each other but cuz they’re ready to move on. That’s what mom tells me.” He told me as we played in his backyard. “But I miss daddy sometimes – a lot of times.”

   He had been sad. Almost on the verge of tears, I didn’t want to see him cry, so I changed the topic. And ever since that day I didn’t ask him about his dad.

    I left his house that day thinking of Elliott, his dad and wondering when he’ll get better.