Mrs. Agbayani talks to me,
but she doesn’t ask me any questions,
and that makes me feel safer.
Grown-ups like to ask questions that are impossible to answer.
I’m so glad for you, Etan;
Malia is so happy when you come.
I look at her, and now it’s me who wants to ask the questions
about her skin, and her eye, and being allergic to the sun.
But I don’t know how to ask,
so I just say, Is she going to be okay?
I feel the car slow down
as we come into town.
Mrs. Agbayani stares
straight ahead, wiping her eyes.
We are trying everything, she says.
There is a new cream at the hospital
that’s supposed to bring some relief.
Her father will bring some home soon.
To me, it sounds like she is talking to herself.
Mrs. Agbayani parks in front of my grandfather’s shop.
I see him through the window
in the warm light,
tinkering or something.
He looks up, sees us, his face
unfolds into a smile.
He unlocks the door and comes out fast,
hugs me.
She smiles.
We’re okay.
Just a scratch on his arm.
He’ll be fine.
More earthquakes
than I can remember
in a long time.
He nods.
This is a good boy you have here, she says.
I don’t know, my grandfather replies,
I think he’s hiding something.
She laughs,
but then, something else.
She walks over to my grandfather,
and he hugs her, tight.
Like only he can,
like she’s family.
It’s been too long, he says.
How’s your mother?
They talk for a while,
then she walks across the street
to where Mrs. Li
is closing her storefront.
They hug and then walk
together arm in arm.
Come inside, Etan, my grandfather says.
Have you eaten?