Free Edward's Eyes by Patricia MacLachlan Page A

calmly. Will goes back to his book. He turns a page.
    â€œJake?” repeats Maeve.
    And when I don’t say anything she hands me Edward. Just like that. As if he were a bundle or a book. I remember sitting very still, so scared I can’t move. And then it happens. Edward opens his eyes and looks at me. His eyes are the dark mud-blue of the night sky, but there are surprising little flecks of gold in them. They stare right into my eyes. My heart begins to beat faster. I try to say something. I want to say that Edward is beautiful…the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. I want to say that I love him more than anything or anyone I know. But I am only three, and when I try to talk I can’t say all those words.
    â€œHis eyes,” I begin.
    Maeve reaches out and smooths my hair. Her hand is cool and she smiles at me because she already knows what I can’t say. Tears sting at the corners of my eyes. Maeve takes us both—Edward and me—into her arms.
    â€œEdward’s eyes,” I say into her shoulder, the tears coming at last. “Edward’s eyes.”
    Â 
    Edward is little.
    I sat on the floor, leaning against the bathtub, trying to do my homework. Maeve sent me to check on Edward.
    â€œDo it, Edward.”
    He sat on the toilet, his legs dangling.
    â€œWhere’s Motha?” he asked.
    â€œIn the kitchen.”
    â€œRead to me,” said Edward.
    â€œPlease.”
    â€œPlease,” repeated Edward.
    I picked up one of his books. I didn’t need to look at it. I knew it by heart. I closed my eyes. “In the great green room there was a telephone…”
    â€œFrench, maybe,” said Edward. Edward loved French.
    I smiled. Edward was so used to hearing all of us talk that he often used words like “maybe” and “actually” and “perhaps.”
    â€œDans la grande chambre verte il y a un téléphone…”
    â€œWhat’s that?” asked Edward, pointing to another book.
    I picked up the baseball rule book.
    â€œâ€˜The infield fly rule in baseball,’” I read. “‘The infield fly rule is there to prevent advantage to the fielders in a baseball game. The rule goes into effect when there are fewer than two outs and there are players on first and second base, or on first, second and third base. If it is a fair fly ball in the infield, the umpire can call “infield fly” or “batter is out!” whether or not the ball is caught.’”
    â€œNow do it,” I said.
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œBecause everyone does it.”
    â€œMaybe I don’t want to,” said Edward.
    I sighed.
    â€œIf you don’t go I’ll leave you here to get a ring around your bottom.”
    â€œActually, I have one,” he said.
    Sola appeared in the doorway.
    â€œWhere’s Maeve? Where’s Jack? What am I doing sitting here?” I said to her.
    â€œYour turn,” said Sola. “I did it. Will and Wren did it. This family is a democracy.”
    â€œEdward, please!” I pleaded.
    â€œI want a dollar,” said Edward.
    Sola bursts into laughter. She pulls a bill out of her jean pocket and hands it to him. We can hear her laughing down the hallway. Then it is silent in the bathroom. Edward looks at me for a moment, those blue eyes staring into mine. Then he jumps down from the toilet and flushes it.
    He hands me the dollar.
    â€œI went a long time ago,” he says. “This is yours.”
    Edward walks out the door and down the hallway. Then I hear him walking back. He stands in the doorway.
    â€œThe infield fly rule is not dumb, you know,” he announces.
    Â 
    It is Edward’s first day of kindergarten.
    â€œWe’ll walk you to school, Edward,” said Wren.
    â€œI know the way,” said Edward. “I’ll walk ahead of you. Two steps.”
    Edward held up two fingers.
    Maeve looked a little sad.
    â€œOh, I thought I’d walk with