My grandfather slides me a plate
of pickled herring and a giant slice of pumpernickel,
then he goes back to wiping off an old board
with a special cloth covered in slick oil or something.
The smell of herring mixed with the oil
makes my stomach feel weird.
It’s good to see Mrs. Agbayani.
I look at him. I know
they came here on the Calypso,
but he never really talks about them.