She wants to know his secret. He hasn’t decided what it is yet. Looking in the rear view mirror, Brownie switched lanes.

“My bag?”

“No, you’re cold,” Gruffy said, sipping on his juicebox.

“Um, how about mommy’s water bottle?”

Laughing Gruffy stomped his size eleven feet and said, “no ice cold.”

Her car warning beeped. Shaking her head, she switched lanes again. Brownie wished Dylan was here. She hated speedway driving, hated going to the specialist alone. She glanced up at her rear view mirror again and caught the confusion in her boy’s eyes. Brownie gave him her brightest smile. He smiled back.

“Something that begins with B. Okay how about my bag?”

Clapping and stomping, Gruffy cheered, “you got it, you got it.”

Brownie cheered as the backseat vibrated from her sixteen year old’s big frame. She thought of her bright boy as a control flow structure reiterating a block of code. Each day he was slipping away faster and faster, forgetting more. She could not, would not lose her boy. Regardless of the diagnosis, Brownie promised Gruffy she would do something.

“Mommy I spy with my little eye,” Gruffy said giggling, “something that starts with B.”