Every Graduate’s Sibling Had to Make Them a Gift for Prom – I Worried About My Brother with Down Syndrome Until I Saw What He’d Made Me Enima

“Mr. Alvarez helped with the saw.”

Of course.

Mr. Alvarez lived four houses down.

Retired carpenter.

Eighty-two.

I suddenly understood the garage.

The sawdust.

Mom keeping the key.

The mysterious trips to Ferry Road.

“You worked with Mr. Alvarez?”

“Since January?”

“Sometimes Saturday.”

I looked at Mom.

She was laughing through tears.

“You knew?”

“You told me he was doing a project.”

“He was.”

“I thought school project.”

“That sounds like your problem.”

I wanted to be angry.

Danny picked up the little sparrow.

“I did this one three times.”

“Why?”

“The first one looked like a potato.”