A Boy I Knew Named Troy

Charmer, older than the others or perhaps
just wiser in some worldly way,
the handsome not-quite-man who fell behind
the class but always seem to lead them, too.
I kept him after school for tutoring but
clearly he was not a fan of extra time
within the confines of a classroom.
One afternoon I sighed so loudly that he looked
up from his papers, saw the sadness on
my face.
"I wish that I could wave a magic
wand and make you want to learn," I said
in answer to the question in those piercing
eyes. He nodded in reply and said, "I wish
that you could, too."
And so the year was spent, him straggling,
not struggling to catch up, just managing to make
it to the end and pass, and that was when
I saw him last.  He's in his thirties now,
I hope still grinning like a movie star,
perhaps he's raising children of his own.
I hope he kisses them at night and waves
a magic wand and tells them that the
magic is in learning, and in love, and maybe
he remembers me and maybe he does not,
Regardless.
I remember him, the revelation that
it wasn't what I said or did, although
the saying and the doing were important.




(c) Ellen Gillette, 2014