Outside on the porch
Malia is folded over, quietly crying
in her mother’s lap.
I wonder if the earthquake scared her again?
Mrs. Agbayani looks at me, tears in her own eyes.
She puts her arm out to me.
I walk toward her until her hand
on my shoulder pulls me tightly in.
Blankie is spread evenly over Malia’s body,
but I can see her legs, red, swollen,
hives like scales.
Without moving even an inch
I hear her voice like it’s right in my ear.
It got worse.
Her voice is stuffed into her nose
and it sounds funny,
so I can’t help but laugh just a little.
And that’s when she looks up,
her face more red than I’ve ever seen,
her one eye swollen, but with the other
she glares at me.
I shrink
inside the orb of her eye.
She gives me an angry smile
her head in her heads.
Mrs. Agbayani exhales.
It’s a new outbreak, Etan, worse than we’ve seen before.
The eczema is spreading.
I hold up the tea. I have this from Mrs. Li.
Malia’s body constricts.
Ahhhh, I can smell it from here!
Mrs. Agbayani takes the bag,
holds it arm’s-length away.
I’ll take it inside.
Malia leans forward, her head resting sideways.
It’s on my back, and it hurts to sit up.
I don’t know what to say, and this time
it has nothing to do with finding my words.
Whatever you do DON’T say anything.
Can we just go down to the forest?
She slowly stands,
her shoulders hunched.