Turn 155 of 233

Let Kimo crawl on the concrete pad and see how fast he goes now. The crew also hear him talk occasionally. Always the word big and directed at big things, like his mama

The site is quiet at five-forty and the quiet is the quiet Lena owns before the crew arrives. She sweeps the pad and checks the studs and sets the coffee on the tailgate and Kimo is on the blanket in the shade of the trailer and the boy is already moving. The blanket is a formality now. Lena watches him lurch to the edge and his palms hit the concrete and the hitting is the sound she knows and the sound is faster now. Three weeks ago the crossing took a minute. Today the boy crosses the twelve-foot blanket in forty seconds and the forty seconds is not the limit. The limit is somewhere ahead and the ahead is where he is going.

Lena lifts him off the blanket and sets him on the pad. The concrete is warm already and the warm is the Florida morning and the boy's palms dig in and the arms reach and the legs push and the moving is smooth. Not lurching. Not stumbling. Smooth. The rhythm is left-right-left and the rhythm is the rhythm of a body that has found its stride and the stride is fast. He crosses the pad in under thirty seconds — twenty feet of concrete and the twenty feet is the distance and the distance is his. Lena watches and the watching is the watching of a mother who set her son on concrete three weeks ago and the three weeks have made him faster and the faster is the thing she expected and the expecting is the joy.

The crew arrives at six-thirty and the arriving is the arriving of men who see the boy on the pad and the seeing is the seeing of men who have been watching this boy crawl for weeks. Walt nods and the nod is the nod of a man who has seen a lot of things on construction sites and has never seen this. Marco sets the nail gun down and watches Kimo cross the pad and the watching is the watching of a man who has a niece the same age and the niece is not crawling. Nobody says anything. The not saying is the not saying of men who have accepted that this boy is his own curve and the curve is steep.

At seven-twelve Kimo is crawling toward the lumber stack and the crawling is fast and the fast is the fast Lena has been tracking. He stops at the stack and looks up. The looking up is the looking up of a boy who is seeing something and the seeing is the seeing of a child who has a word now and the word is ready. The mouth opens. The sound is clear and the clear is the clear of a boy who said his first word last night and the word is back.

"Big."

The word is directed at the lumber stack. The stack is eight feet tall and the eight feet is big and the big is the word and the word is right. Marco hears it and the hearing is the hearing of a man who is standing ten feet away with a nail gun in his hand and the nail gun is in his hand and the hand is not moving. He looks at Lena and the looking is the looking of a man who has just heard a three-month-old say big and the saying is at the lumber and the lumber is big and the word is right.

"He talked," Marco says. The statement is the statement of a man who is stating something he does not believe and the not believing is the not believing of a man who heard it.

"He talks," Lena says. The correction is gentle and the gentle is the gentle of a mother who has been hearing the word for a day and the day has made it normal and the normal is the thing she is giving the crew.

Kimo crawls across the pad toward Lena and the crawling is fast and the fast is the fast of a boy who has a destination. He reaches her feet and looks up and the looking up is the looking up of a boy who is seeing his mother and his mother is 630 pounds and 630 pounds is big and the big is the word. The mouth opens.

"Big."

The word is directed at Lena. The word is directed at the mass of her — the belly that hangs heavy above him, the thighs that are wider than he is tall, the arms that pressed 550 pounds last night. The big is her and the her is big and the word is right. Lena laughs and the laugh is the laugh she laughed last night and the laugh is big and deep and the deep is the deep of a mother who has been called big by her three-month-old son and the calling is accurate and the accuracy is the joy.

Walt hears it from the frame and the hearing is the hearing of a man who has been on construction sites for thirty years and has never heard a baby call his mother big. He looks over and his face does the thing it does — the almost-smile that is the closest Walt gets to a smile and the closest is close enough. Frank is cutting on the saw station and the saw is loud and the loud means Frank doesn't hear the word. But Frank sees the boy crawl and the seeing is enough for Frank and the enough is the enough of a man who doesn't need words to know what he is seeing.

The day goes and the boy crawls and the word comes. Kimo says it at the lumber stack and the saying is right. He says it at the wall frame when Marco lifts a header into place and the header is big and the big is right. He says it at the tailgate where the cooler sits and the cooler is big and the big is right. And he says it at Lena — three times, four times — and the saying is always at the mass of her and the mass is big and the big is the word and the word is his and the his is the structure and the structure holds.