The Language Inside (22 page)

YiaYia’s church is huge

with gold domes topped with crosses

modeled after churches in Constantinople
she says

which is Istanbul I want to say

inside are long windows of stained glass

a curved wooden balcony

saints painted on the ceiling

even puffy clouds

I don’t mind being there

since I’ve never had the chance

to be in a building like this

just staring up

watching the light

beam down

at the coffee social afterward

we’re introduced to the priest

and all of YiaYia’s friends

and two breast cancer survivors

even Mom is smiling, relaxed

not pinched and overrevved

like she often is these days

as if she’s psyching herself up

for a marathon

after we leave the church

we drive slowly through a downtown

of shops and restaurants

where I’d like to get out and walk around

but YiaYia’s at the wheel and she says

she has sandwich makings at home

we pass signs for sushi

spring rolls

and pad thai

and my mouth waters

for rice

noodles

bean sprouts

seaweed

anything

but the pasty taste

of egg salad

or chicken salad

or tuna fish sandwiches

on Monday I see Sam once

as I’m making my way into the cafeteria

but he doesn’t see me

and we don’t even get to say
hey

after school I hang out in the library

going through the poetry collection

searching for poems for Zena

and while I’m reading one of the oems

at first I think it’s just the irregular line breaks

the space the poet made tween words

but I look up

at the sh lves

at t librarian

and the spot fo lows

               grows

I pack my bag

call YiaYia

tell her to come get me

then I go outside the school

sit on a low stone wall

my head in my hands

eyes closed

waiting

but YiaYia doesn’t arrive

and she still

only uses her cell phone

to make, not receive, calls

I set my pack in my lap

fold my arms

put my head down

try to stay calm

but I’m already half blind

and soon I’m shivering

inside the school

I make my way

along the wall

to the nurse’s office

and drop onto a bed

then sit up

and throw up

into a wastebasket

by the time I wake

to the sound of Mom’s voice

speaking to the nurse

the crescent of triangles has left

but numbness claims one arm

plus my tongue and jaw

and my head pounds and stabs

I lean on her

my eyes closed

as we walk out

the quiet school

to the car

then I fall across the backseat

she says something to me as she drives

I catch

                         
YiaYia mistake

Newall

                                              
forgot

               
high school

                                        
drive

but I can’t piece anything together

can’t make sense

or speak

and at YiaYia’s

she puts me to bed

later I wake in the bed

set up in the study

for my mother’s recovery

               hungry

the house is dark and still

and in the kitchen

lit by streetlight

I make myself a piece of toast

I dip a spoon into the

jar of
yuzu
preserves

eat a whole mouthful of the sweet-sour

then take another heaping spoonful

and spread it on the toast

after the toast I open the pantry

and find the instant miso ramen

Dad brought us and I heat some water

without letting the kettle whistle

when the ramen is ready

I hoist myself up to sit

on the kitchen counter

and slurp my noodles

by bluish ghostly streetlight

maybe in the future

I hear Shin say

don’t change

I hear Madoka say

even you, Emma-chan

I hear her grandmother say

hey
I hear Sam say

and I think

I don’t know my life anymore