Just before I left my house for the Juvenile Detention Center where I tutor a functionally illiterate seventeen-year old boy, the hawk flew over my head, landed on a tree branch, and took a good long look at me. Omen? Why not? On my way to Juvie, I stopped at the book store to purchase a high interest/low level reader for Edward. I was hoping to find something about basketball. There's not much that Edward and I have in common, but we're both from Cleveland and we both love basketball and by default, we're both a little obsessed with Lebron James. Edward once shook Lebron's hand at a water park and I once had a letter published in a local paper where I asked Lebron to stay. After Lebron broke up with the city of Cleveland on national TV, I've tried to ignore him. But Edward is still a fan. He told me he was happy for Lebron to get a championship ring and I couldn't help but be impressed with Edward's magnanimity.
When the universe speaks to me, I listen. I bought the book.
I didn't have a chance to read with Edward today. Just after I arrived, he was called away to get an update on his sentence. A worker chatted with me while I waited. Ms. Foree was one of the kindest people I've met at the center. She asked if she could help Edward and I showed her the book.
I never did get a chance to work with Edward. When he came back, he was too shaken up to be able to concentrate. Mrs. Foree offered to read with Edward tonight. I hope he finds some solace there. It's the least Lebron can do.