Nickels

The move

The moveto East Rose Avenue one block off Payne happens in one week mom packs packs packs like a rat n I help her fold the dishes wrapped in newspaper into the boxes there are grease stains bananas n oranges n rings of crisco on the bottoms n sides of the cardboard boxes me n mom hauled home from Supervalu Our plates are going to smell like bananas mom says n tapes a box shut with duck tape stuck tape why call it duck tape Our towels are going to smell like oranges mom says n sniffs a towel n smashes it into a box we play records Simon n Garfunkel n the Mommas and Poppas n Christy Minstrels sing about a box black that gets let open n all the bad things in the world get out

All the bad things in all the world!

all the bad things in all the world let out!

but I don’t care about the bad things today mom’s in a good mood mad dad’s gone n we’re moving out of the neighborhood with the nosy people nosing around our family business like mad dad says nosy people nosing around to see how bad I am we’re moving to a new place where no one will know I lived at oatmeal’s n no one will know the judge judged me crazy girl n maybe mad dad won’t come in my room no more

mom bought me strawberry powder for my milk at Supervalu she is happy thinking maybe she won’t have to wash my sheets at the new house the way she has to wash them the mornings after mad dad maybe mad dad won’t come in my room at night no more in the new house is what she is thinking I just know it

mad dad doesn’t come home for lunch cheese sandwiches n mustard n cherry kool aid n he doesn’t come home for a snack tapioca pudding made right out of the box by me n mom listening to music n whistling n stirring bumpy bumpy milk

I leave my bat mask upstairs n China Doll Girl is quiet on the shelf one two three from the top she stands there with a red jelly bean in her basket everything is quiet except for the record player spinning music in the air n mom is smiling n paying attention to me who the judge judged crazy girl her daughter she is proud of me she says so proud of me for making the tapioca all by myself (almost) waiting to move to our new house on East Rose Avenue one block off Payne

Bring bring!the telephone rings n mom answers n says Hello Martha yes you heard right we’re moving um hum yes in one week it’s short notice your son Mr. So And So got a job on the east side of town got a good deal on a house over there I don’t mind Little Miss So And So is helping now no one will know about it you know what I mean the past few months the problems with the school

Hello gramma I sayHello granddaughter she says

Would you like to come see me sometime soon gramma says

Yes I say

Put your mom on I’ll pick you up half way

Yes I say

me n mom pack more boxes than we ever thought possible n the dust makes us sneeze achoo! achoo! achoo! but we don’t care it’s almost dark and no mad dad we are so happy we keep playing records n packing two rats sneezing n coughing n laughing mom lets me sleep in her bed with her no bad things happen mad dad doesn’t come home

We drivetoward North Dakota me n mom who drives her daughter so that her daughter can spend time with her grandmother because dad won’t even drive his own daughter to see his own mother a son who won’t even drive to see his own mother! we drive through St. Paul n Minneapolis then up a road for a long time with trees that look like gray sticks a son who won’t even drive his own daughter to see his own mother! we drive toward North Dakota where the Indians live to see my gramma Indian I have a gramma Indian! who my dad won’t take me to see he is a bad bad dad

Grammawe packed like rats I say n bite my bologna sandwich as big as I can as big as I can! I hold it up in the air so I can see the sun shining in through my bite the biggest bite in all the world! You did she says and sets a red glass in front of me who Me n mom I say n take another bite chew up that bologna butter bread Mmm hmmm she says and wipes her hands on a blue towel strung through the refrigerator door Why are you moving I pick up the glass I’m excited to move I say n squint into the glass n my heart tumbles down a hill like Jill hill and Jill rhyme I say gramma nods wipes up crumbs holds them in her hands looks at me It’s milk I say gramma nods I set it down Still not drinking milk gramma says I shake my head no milk is bad white stuff in my throat Mmm hmmm gramma says drops the crumbs in the sink picks up my glass sets it on the gray counter top the color of her cat Grapefruit juice or apple she says opening her refrigerator Grapefruit I say n take another bite n swing my legs gramma sets juice in front of me bends down so her face is in mine she has a big round nose and black hair dark as the black bird that pops out of that boy’s pie and skin the color of light brown paint she’s Indian like dad mom said so dad said drop it no one needs to know about that gramma reaches her hands across the table gray as the counter and cat A crown is your head I say and touch mine Mmm hmmm she says Mom reads to me I say Yes I imagine she does did you know your mom wanted to write books No I say Something better came along she says and smiles sits down I shrug don’t smile back it’s something about me so it must be bad bad bad crazy girl Does your mom say why you’re moving gramma smiles a smile big as the sky n North Dakota n rubs my wrists the soft part where all the blood is mmm hmmm her mouth is smiling but her eyebrows knot up like tied shoelaces n I take another bite n then another and don’t answer her question

Gramma takes meto McDonalds we eat french fries n double cheeseburgers n pop n we share apple pie n gramma sits next to me n rubs my wrist she squeezes me with her other arm kisses the top of my head a old lady and some kids sit down next to us the girl says Is that lady from China and the lady next to us looks mad but I don’t know why I’m not Chinese gramma says to the lady and takes her thumb and presses on my cheek see those flat cheeks and she presses on my lips those fat little lips she whispers in my ear that’s what an Indian looks like you’re Indian too no matter what anyone says you hear me my girl she sits up and takes a bite of the apple pie she ripped into pieces She don’t look like no grandma the boy says Robbie his lady says Well she isn’t all gray like you he says Quiet his lady says and hits his hand Why don’t you look like a gramma I say gramma won’t smack me for asking questions she looks down at the pie pieces blows on one Indians do that she whispers to me we age good she nods then says loud your parents were young Oh I say but don’t ask no more questions because it might be something bad about me gramma kisses the top of my head I’m the luckiest grandma ever she says n I sink into her side until I can feel her ribs you’re my girl she says loud then whispers my little Indian girl n I stop chewing n sink my face into her side n she hugs me n whispers What’s wrong my girl I cry the apple pie in my mouth onto her shirt she hugs me rocks me in the booth doesn’t care about the pie running down her shirt or the other grammas or kids or people eating lunch at McDonalds who don’t look Chinese I’m her girl

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