Ten Years of Public Breakups, Then He Ran After My Bus novel · Chapter 39 of 40

Chapter 39: Madawaska

My father arrived on the Wednesday of the festival, in a green pickup with Aroostook plates and a hundred pounds of potatoes in the bed.

I was on the porch of the Point house when I heard the truck.

I stood up.

It came slowly down Ash Point Road, the way a man drives who has never been sure of the turns.

It stopped in the dooryard and sat there with the engine running.

For a long time nothing happened.

Then the door opened, and a big man in a plaid work shirt and a feed cap got down, one boot and then the other, and stood with his hand on the door.

He was sixty-one.

He had gray in his hair and a deep brown face, and enormous hands.

He stood in the sunlight looking at me, not sure he had the right to be there.

I hadn't seen him in four years.

I hadn't been sure I'd know him.

I knew him by the way he held his hat.

"Bernie," he said.

"Dad."

"I brought potatoes," he said.

"I see that."

"Your mother said you'd want them," he said.

"I do."

"They're Katahdins. A good year."

"Dad," I said. "Come here."

He crossed the dooryard toward me.

I met him at the bottom of the porch.

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