26.

Bicycling along,

screaming,

helps.

Makes some of the

pain

go away.

The rest slips

into my feet

as I

steer across

the grass

of Mari’s front yard.

I drop the bike

near the petunias

and go to

knock

but Mari

slings the door wide

and shouts,

What took you so

damn long to

get here?

Then she laughs

big and I can

see her molars.

She doesn’t have

even one cavity.

She wears an old

AFI T-shirt

and her hair

is purple today.

I matched it

to the petunias,

Mari says,

when I raise my eyebrows

at her.

Almost,

I say.

Almost that color

exactly.

Come on in here,

Mari says.

I breathe deep

the smell of air-conditioning

and flowers,

and step into the

house.