THE LESSON OF THE CAPTAIN
Grandpa took the faded armband.
He carefully slipped it over Brandon’s sleeve.
Then he straightened the old crest.
“A captain doesn’t take the best place,” Grandpa said.
Brandon listened carefully.
“A captain makes sure someone else has one.”
Brandon looked toward his father.
His father was standing several rows above them.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then the man placed one hand over his heart.
And gave his son a small nod.
Brandon looked back at Grandpa.
“Does that mean he’s a captain again?”
Grandpa smiled.
“Not yet.”
Brandon laughed.
“What does he have to do?”
Grandpa glanced toward the man.
“Start by apologizing.”
Brandon looked up.
His father slowly made his way down.
When he reached us, he stood in front of Grandpa.
For the first time all afternoon, he didn’t look entitled.
He looked embarrassed.
“I owe you an apology,” he said.
Grandpa nodded.
“Yes, you do.”
The man swallowed.
“I was wrong.”
Grandpa looked at him for a moment.
Then he smiled.
“That’s a good place to start.”
