We go back on Friday
just a half day,
maybe to see
if we are okay being back.
I try to picture Malia
in the classroom, sitting in one of these desks.
Will she be okay?
She’s going to make everyone laugh.
Mr. Potts lets us talk
about the earthquake;
we can talk or write about our feelings,
and that’s what we do all day.
Some kids tell stories
about hiding,
some kids talk
about what they saw on TV …
and then something unexpected happens.
I raise my hand.
I WANT to talk about it.
I talk about the talent show,
and the plaster coming down,
and my grandfather.
When I finish and look around,
I remember that I haven’t said anything
out loud in a long, long time.
Maybe nobody remembers my voice.
I talk about Buddy finding us,
and then I look at Jordan,
and Martin, and that’s when it happens.
Martin stands up, starts talking about
how we had to move heavy shelves
so Mrs. Hershkowitz could stand.
We had to all do it together
just to get it to budge, he says.
I look at Jordan, fidgeting in his seat,
getting ready to tell his parts of the story, too.