There’s a few neighborhood kids, in the mornings I sit on the porch with two coffee mugs, one’s filled with coffee and the other American quarters. They stop by on their way to school and take one each for lunch. When the mug is empty I light a cigar and ash into it. In the afternoons I sit on the porch with two tumblers, one with an old-fashioned and the other American silver dollars. They stop by on their way home and take one each for supper. In this country, a quarter can buy a steak for one and a dollar buys steaks for a family. On Saturdays they come inside to watch morning cartoons. This season it’s Tom & Jerry. They eat their eggs and drink their milk. We play soccer in the street with goals they helped me build and a ball I’ve had since I bought the house 15 years ago. We go back inside to the study where I read them the next chapter of a book; we’re partway through The Hobbit now, Bilbo just met Smaug. They can’t believe dragons were real. When I finish the chapter they each exchange last week’s book for a new one. They’ll pull one, ask a question, put it back. Take out another, look at the cover, read the back, smile, and tuck it under their arm. On the way out they take a five dollar bill from a jar on a shelf next to the front door and say they’ll see me Monday morning. Eventually the rains come and I go, they don’t have school then.