I remember very vividly the first time I saw him.
Mariclene had been our breakfast visitor for a while and on
occassion she would show up with one of her biological siblings so they could
also devour eggs and bread, often their only real meal for the day.
He was butt. naked.
Every time he showed up. Naked.
His long, seemingly highlighted, curly hair reached his
shoulders and he had this wild-eyed look on his face at all times. He was about
two years old at the time and couldn’t say a single word. He always came toting
his little broken riding toy. (And if another child tried to take said toy,
screaming and grunting quickly ensued!)