The last time the Pluto transit to my Moon was exact, a woman from my past surfaced with an extraordinary gift. She had pictures of me that she’d kept in hidden in a box for damned near 30 years. It happened like this on Thanksgiving last year…

Briiiiinnnnng! Briiiinnnng!

“Hello?”

“P! P, you’re not going to believe this,” he said. It was the soldier. “I’m at my mother’s house.”

“Yeah? Yeah, I know. What is it?”

“She has these pictures of you.”

“Yeah, I know. What? She took ‘em out to taunt you? Good for her.”

“No, P. These are other pictures. Pictures of you and pictures of us I’ve never before. She’s kept them hidden all these years. Can you believe that? She’s hid these from me!”

“What?”

“I told you that you wouldn’t believe it. Where did she get these pictures?”

“I don’t know. Where did she get them?”

“She won’t tell me. I thought you might know.”

“Well, I don’t. I don’t know what you’re talking about. What pictures? Why won’t she tell you?”

“She says I don’t have to know all her secrets.”

I laughed.

“She said it’s none of my business where she got them, but guess where she had them? Guess where she’s kept them all these years?”

“Tell me.”

“Well, she got this box down from her closet. She said the things inside it were the things that made me a man.”

I gasped.

“Yeah. And your picture is in there, P. My mother thinks you made me a man!”

I snorted. “Well… I agree!”

“Yeah, yeah, but listen. Let me tell you what else was in that box. The other things that made me a man,” he said, sounding kind of embarrassed. “I want you to know where these pictures have been. What they’ve been stored with for all these years.”

“Okay. What’s she got?”

“She’s got my first rosary is in there. My very first rosary.”

“Yeah? Cool…”

“Yeah. And there is a picture of my father… and there is one of my son.”

“Yep.”

“And then there are four pictures of you. Well, two pictures of you and I – these are pictures I’ve never seen before and two others of just you by yourself. P. And I have no idea where she got them.”

“Uh…”

“My jump wings are in there and those knives are in there. The knives my grandfather bound together so I would not… could not be killed by a bullet.”

“Well I don’t know what to say. I’m stunned. Anything else? What else?”

“That’s all. According to her, these are things that made me a man. She thinks you made me a man.”

“Well I’m sure she’s right. That’s the kind of thing a mother would know don’t you think?’ I laughed. “But why now? Why is she showing you this now?”

“I don’t know.”

“I see.”

Can you imagine the depth of the impact?

It’s eight months later. Today I sent the soldier’s mother a note.