The following morning, the morning of their last full day at the sea, Marko’s grandmother helped with his catheter and enema as usual, but her customary high stress level clashed with the relative calm between Marko and Kali. At breakfast, she asked, “Where were you two last night? What happened?” They were eating breakfast on the patio outside. The air was soft and warm.
Marko used the food in his mouth as an opportunity to stall his response and think about what to say. He looked at her and chewed slowly. Her face was pale with heavy, dark wedges beneath her eyes. Not just her mouth but her whole face seemed to frown. “We went for a walk and had a swim. Where were you?”
Her frown deepened and she said, “Did you get enough sleep? Are you tired?”
“I’m fine, but where were you and grandpa last night?”
She waved away his question and turned to walk in the house. Just then Marko’s grandpa walked out. He put his arm around Lydia and said, “We were out on a date.” Marko’s grandma blushed and pushed him away, but Marko could tell she was pleased. Marko smiled. His grandmother disappeared into the house and the old man sat across the table from him.
“Are you having fun?” the old man asked. He took a piece of toast, spread fig jam across it, and forced it as far into his mouth as it would go before taking a humungous bite. Marko stifled a laugh and nodded.
“Fhat? Fhat’s funny?” he asked with his mouth full.
“Nothing. Don’t choke,” Marko said. The old man continued chewing and stared at Marko.
“What really happened last night?” Marko asked. It made him a little nervous to ask and normally he wouldn’t have, but the effect from the night before was still with him. He felt strong. He waited while the old man finished chewing and then swallowed.
“Why do you do that with your hands?” The old man mimicked Marko’s hands, twisting them one atop the other from the wrist in front of his face. There was no cruelty in his mimicry, only curiosity. Marko dropped his hands. He hadn’t even been aware that he was doing it again. He opened his mouth to answer but thought better of it.
“I asked you first,” Marko said. The old man smirked and took another large bite of toast. Marko watched him chew patiently.
When the old man was finished he said, “There are things you don’t need to know about this family.” The lines on his face deepened and his eyes sealed the finality of his statement. Marko was aware that his hands were back up but he didn’t care. The math and the thoughts crowding his skull were too much.
“Moving my hands—I think it’s like defragmenting a hard drive,” Marko said. The old man scowled.
“Like doing what to a what?”
“Do you have a computer?”
“Yes but I don’t know how it works.”
“Well, my hands have the effect on my mind that walking has on your mind, I think. Like when people are troubled and they go take a walk? They do that to calm their mind or organize their thoughts? I can’t walk so I use my hands.” The old man nodded and his face relaxed. His eyes, too, relaxed.
“They look like wings, your hands. Like a bird flying.” The old man smiled when he said this. Marko sensed another shift inside him. He looked out at the sky behind his grandfather’s head and imagined a bird soaring, black against bright blue.