Blind Trust                                                                             

“Is anything coming?” not even slowing
down for the stop sign at the intersection
of our old gravel road and the highway.

“Nothing on my side,” I answer. Knowing
he hadn't looked before asking confirms the
ten year old son's allegiance with his father.

Dad would have never done this with Mom
riding shotgun even if she were to ever ride
in his truck, which I don't think she ever did.

I bet he never got her to light his cigarettes
either or sip foam off his beer cans I opened
from the six pack  under my side of the seat.

My best secret was that Friday night hot dog at
the varsity football game. “No need to tell Mom.
We'll just make tomorrow a no meat Saturday.”

—Carl Palmer, University Place, WA