Before the Ever After(6)

Our pool in Maplewood is deeper than Grandma’s, goes way over my head at the deepest end but the shallow end only comes to my knees.

How’s your daddy doing? my grandma asks.

Any better?

I shrug, then, remembering my grandma can’t see me, say No.

He says his head hurts all the time, I tell her.

He says some days he can’t even see straight.

After a minute, I say He’s missing a lot of his games.

I know, my grandmother says.

Maybe it’s for the best, though. He doesn’t need to be running on that field if he can’t see straight.

But then what? I ask her.

What’s he gonna do if he can’t play?

Outside, the night is so dark, it looks like a black wall.

When I was a little kid acting crazy, Grandma would say You’re about to get yourself in deep water, ZJ.

Deep water was trouble.

Deep water was a spanking from her.

Deep water was something I never wanted to be in.

Feels like we’re in deep water, Grandma, I say.

I hear my grandmother sigh. She’s quiet for a while.

Look on the bright side, she finally says.

Now there’s time for him

to bring you out here to see both your grandmas!

I hold the phone even closer to my ear, wanting to hug her through it. Say

I just want him all better, Grandma.

And even though I know I sound like a little kid, I say it anyway. I just want him to be Daddy again.





Thanks, Bruh


The doorbell rings late Sunday afternoon and it’s Daniel standing there in his striped raincoat and blue rain boots, shivering, his bike with the back wheel still spinning lying on the lawn. I was thinking, he says, not even all the way in yet but shaking out of his coat, about the time when we first met. I don’t know why. Just came to my head.

He takes off his boots, leaves them by the door, follows me into the living room, rubbing his wet face with his shirt.

You were the one who said yeah.

Yeah about what?

The fireplace is going, and I’m working on a puzzle in front of it. It’s a Yeti on top of a mountain, and so far the Yeti’s head is done.

I sit back down on the floor on one side of it and Daniel sits on the other, picks up a piece and stares at it.

You said yeah about racing.

I don’t know what Ollie or Darry would’ve said but you said yeah.

I didn’t know who your daddy was or anything.

Not yet. And even after I found out, all I really remember is that you were the first one who said yes.

He finds a place for the puzzle piece and picks up another, starts putting pieces together like he’s done this puzzle a hundred times.

Daniel’s not smart like Ollie is. Not school smart.

He fails tests sometimes even

when he studies. But as we sit working

that puzzle and talking,

I realize that he’s a whole nother kind of smart.

He looks over at me and smiles.

The log in the fireplace crackles. Outside it rains and rains.

Daniel and me lean into that puzzle

for the rest of the afternoon.





Two-Hand Touch


I’m watching cartoons when Ollie calls me and says everybody’s going to the park. You coming?

I’m still in my pj’s but get dressed real fast and hop on my bike.

It’s sunny out, but cold. The park is crowded, though, and it’s a minute before I see Ollie’s red Afro out on the field.

Darry’s there too and some other guys, and one of them tosses me the ball.

You got your daddy’s skills? Then I got you on my team.

I catch the ball in my stomach.

Let’s do two-hand touch, I say.

Tackle, the guy says.

I look at Ollie. He looks at me.

I throw the ball back at the guy.

Nah. Then I’m out, I tell him.

All right already, touch, then, the kid says.

Even though, he says, touch ain’t even really football.





From Outside


And some nights everything’s so good. There’s fish fried with cornmeal, mashed potatoes and kale cooked with so much garlic and olive oil, I go back for seconds and almost forget it’s a vegetable.

There’s Daddy making Mama sit on his lap.

The two of them laughing

as the speakers blast Earth, Wind & Fire all through the house, until the guy sings about chasing the clouds away

and Daddy jumps up, still holding Mama, and makes her dance with him.

They do old-people moves that look like they’re dancing to the words, not the music, but I can’t help dancing too and from outside

or from somewhere far away maybe it looks crazy and beautiful,

the house with the lights dimmed to gold and the three of us moving through that light, chasing the clouds away.





Migraine


Monday afternoon after school, I eat ten cookies standing at the sink, wash it all down with one glass of milk and three glasses of water, run to the bathroom because all that water goes right through me, come back to the kitchen and microwave a beef patty. So hungry, I feel like I could keep on eating, singing the song we learned in chorus that day.

We come from the mountain, living on the mountain.