I am home

I am home.

“DAD” is scrawled in pink and blue chalk in several places on driveway; two more on the front porch. A piece of white paper is affixed to the glass on the front storm door by means of four pieces of clear tape intersecting each corner. Yesterday, it said “WElCOM HOM DAD”. I will learn later that the drawing represents Charlie and Henry in the cockpit of a rocketship exiting the earth’s atmosphere on a journey to an “M” planet.

“Mars?” I ask.

Charlie walks barefoot on the low pavestone wall that serves as a border for the flowerbed. “No, Dad. It’s Mercury.”

Mercury is the closest planet to the sun. It has no satellites and little atmosphere. It is made of metal and rock like the earth. Sometimes you can see it at dusk with your naked eye.

The dozen tadpole shaped objects are parachutes attached to the jettisoned solid fuel boosters.

Beyond Charlie’s artful signage and through the glass, I see Charlie and Henry sitting at the table. I smell meatloaf with parsley. A Jell-o cup is stuck on Henry’s fist. Charlie is focused on a project. Henry is focused on the Jell-o. The air is still outside. The orange sky and the setting sun reflect in the door glass. Is that Mercury?

Jill comes into the frame with a white dish towel over her shoulder holding a stainless-steel spatula. I open the door.

I am home.