Far

Tonight, I’m reading to my grandmother Potter who

only attended school as far as the third grade. I read her

the opening pyrotechnics of the book of Revelation,

and I know Granny really wants me to read myself

to sleep, but I’m not that sleepy. I read on. There’s some

Old Testament story of King David that I’ve flipped to

that mentions foreskins and Philistines. Farther on, these

same Philistines are having to hand over their foreskins,

so of course I ask what all that means. She tells me that

I’m circumcised, which just means cut down there.

She lowers her bifocals. And points and says the word

tallywacker and we laugh. She likes for me to read aloud

but doesn’t like me to ask her what words mean because

it causes her to have to say, That’s far enough for tonight

and then revisit the sad fact she doesn’t know that much

about language beyond how far to take it, which is pretty

far, since she is building a life on the words. She won’t

cut her hair or drink liquor or say those words, words

you know without me saying, because she is far enough

along in her revelation to think she shouldn’t. Which is

sort of odd to my mind. I like beer and she tells the story

of having to church-key open a can of Budweiser for me.

At two, I had my very own can of beer. Anyway, I put my

heart and soul into reading. I travel to far-off Jerusalem.

I hear about the Crucifixion and the resurrection. I think

The Gospel According to Mazy Frances Collier Potter,

but what I know is that my parents are divorced and

in 1962 not one of the families on our street will let

their kids play with me. I’m pretty sure the ones

Jesus came to save aren’t worth saving. Far from it.

Any kid who reads aloud from the King James Bible

thinks he’s as smart as Bugs Bunny or the Road Runner.

Thinks he knows something only he knows. For example:

adults are a danger to themselves and others, and prone

to turning all creation upside down like a piggybank.

Then she tells me you can’t make someone love you.

Which is damn smart for anyone who didn’t make it

far beyond the third grade and who keeps her false teeth

in a glass by her bedside and keeps knocking the glass

over but can’t finally figure how far is too far to reach.