Jewelweed by David Rhodes

cucumber-and-lettuce sandwiches with napkins next to a fountain was a very good thing to do. But it was also true that she liked her a lot more than she liked most people. When they got up close she even allowed Mrs. Helm to hug her, though she didn’t hug her back.
    There weren’t any chairs to sit on, so the two women carried their lunch over to the colored rocks beside the fountain. After August’s mom said a few words of prayer, they each picked up a sandwich and nibbled on it, wiping their mouths with red napkins after every bite. Ivan said he wasn’t hungry and just watched. His mother rarely talked to anyone. She said most talking went nowhere fast. But now the two women chattered away like a couple of finches, pecking at their brown-bread sandwiches and sipping from plastic cups, perched on rocks with their knees together. Several times Ivan’s mother laughed, then quickly covered her mouth with a napkin, prompting Mrs. Helm to smile and say, “Oh, Danielle, you’re such a treasure.”
    His mother even told Mrs. Helm that she was thinking about applying for a live-in job with the owners of the construction company.
    â€œOh, I hope you do,” said Mrs. Helm. “I’ve met them and they’re nice.”
    â€œI don’t see how they could be,” said his mother. “They’re rich.”
    At that point Mrs. Helm looked at Ivan and said that August was somewhere down by the creek. Ivan left his suitcase on the table and walked into the woods. It was cooler there. Before long Milton found him and flew around his head several times while he crawled through a hole in the fence. Ivan followed him across the Long Stretch, where it was hot without the shelter of the trees. Pretty soon they were back into the cooler woods again.
    August was a short distance down the creek, sitting with his back against a tree and staring into the water. Ivan could tell—even from that far away—that August was trapped in one of his moods again. He was odd that way. Ivan knew him so well that he could almost see his thoughts. Sometimes August worried about his great uncle and aunt because they were so old, other times he thought something would happen to his father when he worked without safety equipment, and then often he just worried about why people were always thinking up ways to hurt each other. There was almost nothing he couldn’t worry about.
    Ivan didn’t really understand why August got so upset by things. Compared to him, August had everything. His dad and mom were the best parents, and August’s mom was so kind and warm that sometimes Ivan could hardly keep from going up and asking her to hold him. That was stupid, he knew, because he was almost twelve, but she was like that. As for his dad, when he looked at August, Ivan could tell how much he liked him. And then August’s bedroom was nearly as big as Ivan’s whole apartment. He had a computer and he took music lessons, Science for the Gifted, and Latin. He seemed to have everything, but he still couldn’t stop worrying. Ivan told him he was too nervy, but it was like telling someone they were too small. It was just the way August was.
    As August stared into the moving water, Milton dove in circles around him, catching mosquitoes, biting flies, gnats, picnic bugs, mayflies, and no-see-ums. After he cleared the air of everything he could eat, he landed on the tree trunk several feet above August’s head, folded his pointed wings, and disappeared into the knurled bark.
    When he saw Ivan he jumped up and came over.
    August seemed to change more than anyone Ivan knew. Every time he saw him he was different. Sometimes he moved different and other times he just looked different. This afternoon his hair looked long, shaggy, and very light brown, almost blond. He also seemed bigger, almost as if his arms and legs had grown. His jeans were wet all the way up to the pockets, and water oozed out of his