Page 362 - A Little Life: A Novel

“Yes, it’s for you,” said the brother. “Hurry, make a wish.”
He had never had a birthday cake before, but he had read about them and
he knew what to do. He shut his eyes and wished, and then opened them

and blew out the match, and the room went completely dark.
“Congratulations,” Luke said, and turned on the light. He handed him the
muffin, and when he tried to offer the brother some of it, Luke shook his
head: “It’s yours.” He ate the muffin, which had little blueberries and which
he thought was the best thing he had ever tasted, so sweet and cakey, and
the brother watched him and smiled.
“And I have something else for you,” said Luke, and reached behind him,

and handed him a package, a large flat box wrapped in newspaper and tied
with string. “Go on, open it,” Luke said, and he did, removing the
newspaper carefully so it could be reused. The box was plain faded
cardboard, and when he opened it, he found it contained an assortment of
round pieces of wood. Each piece was notched on both ends, and Brother
Luke showed him how the pieces could be slotted within one another to

build boxes, and then how he could lay twigs across the top to make a sort
of roof. Many years later, when he was in college, he would see a box of
these logs in the window of a toy store, and would realize that his gift had
been missing parts: a red-peaked triangular structure to build a roof, and the
flat green planks that lay across it. But in the moment, it had left him mute
with joy, until he had remembered his manners and thanked the brother
again and again.

“You’re welcome,” said Luke. “After all, you don’t turn eight every day,
do you?”
“No,” he admitted, smiling wildly at the gift, and for the rest of his free
period, he had built houses and boxes with the pieces while Brother Luke
watched him, sometimes reaching over to tuck his hair behind his ears.
He spent every minute he could with the brother in the greenhouse. With

Luke, he was a different person. To the other brothers, he was a burden, a
collection of problems and deficiencies, and every day brought a new
detailing of what was wrong with him: he was too dreamy, too emotional,
too energetic, too fanciful, too curious, too impatient, too skinny, too
playful. He should be more grateful, more graceful, more controlled, more
respectful, more patient, more dexterous, more disciplined, more reverent.
But to Brother Luke, he was smart, he was quick, he was clever, he was

lively. Brother Luke never told him he asked too many questions, or told