“My God, I can’t stand it!”

“What?” I was confused — not sure what I had done. I lived with an aunt in Tucson, Arizona.

“You freak me out!” She was sitting in a lounge chair and I was lying on the sofa.

“What did I do?”

“You always lay with your arms crossed behind your head and your ankles crossed! Just like your dad.”

This was confusing. “I don’t have a dad.” I didn’t. I never knew of one or thought I needed one.

“Everyone has a dad!”

“I don’t.” I was feeling picked on, confused, and dumb.

My cousin jumped up and left the room. Her mother came out with photos of Kenneth, told me about him, and said he was my dad.

As I sit here, my ankles are crossed. When I sleep, my ankles are crossed: just like the man who was my dad.

A partial answer to your question, Joel Elliot