I slow the bike down.
This man,
dark hair,
gray in the front,
he smiles.
So you must be Etan?
His voice is clear, bright.
Malia has told me about you.
I stand over my bike,
try to talk try to talk,
just say something.
I can’t, but I manage a smile.
Then, out of long silence,
Hey, he says, I want you to know
I was so glad
when Malia called me on the ship,
told me that she has a friend.
And the son of the great Jacob Hirsch?
I smile, what does he mean, “the great”?
Oh, and I am so sorry
about the singing.
In my head I say, “Sorry?”
but nothing comes out.
Almost as if he heard
my thought he answers:
Too much stress.
It might cause more reactions.
Anyway, he smiles,
it is very nice to meet you at last.
Go on, she’s inside.