The man rubbed the scar on his chin
and thought back sixty-eight years
to flying over the handlebar of his
trike, landing chin down in the cinder
strewn alley. Then memory took him
to Dr. Was’ office where the family
physician numbed the then six-year-
old’s chin, pulled out the cinders
with tweezers, rinsed the wound and
clamped the torn skin together while
noticing that the boy’s father was
turning white and telling the father
to sit before he fainted. The man
remembered his father sitting and
then fainting and later hearing his
father say, “I couldn’t stand to see
you injured like that. I think it
hurt me more than it hurt you. You
were very brave, son. ” With that
fond memory, the man continued to
rub the smooth scar and the two-
day-old stubble around it.
every scar, a story .. involving blood.