I need to get back to the shop
and get Buddy back home.
Walking near the playground
I see Jordan and Martin and two other boys
throwing a baseball around.
I try to ignore them, but it’s too late.
Jordan is always with Martin now.
Etan! Wanna play ball with us?
I walk faster.
He won’t answer. He doesn’t talk anymore.
They laugh at something else, or at me,
but just before I reach the sidewalk
Buddy starts to spin around,
barking and whining.
Martin looks over.
What’s wrong with your dog?
I’m trying to calm him down,
and that’s when it happens.
The air gets still, the birds go quiet,
the tops of the trees begin to sway
even though there’s no wind.
Then the ground shakes
like some giant just stomped down.
We hear car horns, and parents
calling to their kids.
I hold on to Buddy.
Then it ends.
Just a tremor, Martin says.
Probably like, I don’t know, 2.4 on the scale.
I start to cross the street,
my legs a little wobbly,
and then, near my right foot,
I see a crack in the pavement,
then I see they are everywhere,
like spiderwebs
crisscrossing the sidewalk.
I bring Buddy back
and stand beneath the window.
Mrs. Hershkowitz is looking out already.
ETAN! Are you okay?
I smile, and she lowers the basket,
speaking in Yiddish the whole time.
I can’t understand a word,
but I accept that she may be
saying something like a prayer or a complaint.
Buddy doesn’t want to get in the basket;
he licks my face and whimpers into my hands.
Next time, I whisper. I’ll see you soon.