My family used to tell crazy stories to my generation (me).
My older aunt (for identity theft risks, I am not going to tell her name here) told us once that one night, a few weeks after her wedding, she and her husband were sleeping and suddenly, a robber came to her house. The robber came in, bumped into the sofa, and awakened my uncle. He decided to scare the robber out of the house. My uncle has a fake rifle and a military suit. He is six foot eight, and even though he is a chef, every stranger thinks he is a general. So he put on the military suit, grabbed the rifle, and sneaked stealthily behind the robber, who was trying to steal their stereo. “Get out of here!” said my uncle in a gruff voice, and pointed the fake rifle toward the robber. He pulled the trigger and a popping noise came out. The robber didn’t wait and he ran away. He even left some stuff that he had robbed from other houses. My uncle still has the rifle.
Another aunt also told us about someone who tried to rob her house. My aunt and her husband have a mute son named Estaban. One night, a robber came to her house and broke a glass of water. My uncle woke up, went out to the hallway, and he yelled out, “Estaban, is that you?” “Yes!” came back a deep, gruff voice. My uncle realized it was a robber, so he grabbed a baseball bat, ran to the living room and clobbered the robber all the way to the police station. Talk about a home run.
My dad told us about our great-grandma. She was a huge woman. Even in her eighties she looked like an oak. She was a crazy woman. She had seven husbands in her life, and every single one of them ran away because she beat the souls out of them. She would chase out little kids like dogs and cats. When she came to the capital, she would pull pranks on people and still get away with it. One day she was trying to ring a bell when a good man came up to her. She asked him, “Can you help me? I need to ring this bell.” He rang the bell and asked, “Now what?” She was already running and saying, “Run, you idiot, run!”
I will travel around the world
It is marvelous
It is true
I’ll count the countries by twos
I’ll fly in outer space
I will not have a race
I forgot to wear a helmet
I’m bound to suffocate
It all started when I was a baby. Then I grew and grew and grew and here I am today. When I was only twelve I found out I was a wizard. My brothers use magic to do bad things. For example, yesterday they had a test and used magic for all the answers. Yesterday we went to the wizard tournaments to see who would keep their powers. There was beezball, wizardwagle, pass the power, and there was whack a wizard for little brothers and sisters. I kept my powers. Best part is, we all lived happily ever after. (At least I did.)
When I look at my grandmother’s face, I notice a pair of kind, tired eyes. They are olive with a touch of aqua. Her eyes remind me of the ocean, how it flows, and every wave is a different shade of turquoise. Her eyes forever change from a misty rainforest green to a cloudy indigo day. They are beautiful like butterflies flying down a rainbow.
When I think about my understanding mother, the image of her slender fingers slides into my mind. They are soft and generous fingers that touch and handle feelings with care. Her comforting touch heals.
As I study my father, I see that his forehead is always wrinkling. It crinkles a lot because he is usually outside squinting at the sun as he cuts trees down. The exploding rays of the sun always sting at his eyes. He works his hardest to take care of us.
The first thing I see when I peer at my sister is her small nose. It is round like a button that escaped off my dad’s shirt. Her nose was the first thing that I ever noticed about her when she was born. This is my favorite thing about my baby sister. I hope it doesn’t ever change.
This is an extraordinary family. This is my family.
Swaying wind stirs thick fur
Paws galloping through the black-violet night sky.
Moonlight makes silver eyes and silver fur glow from within,
Ears, eyes, watching, waiting for a disturbance.
A scream of terror, a desperate cry for help—
Sounds that often riddle the night.
They sting the velvety ears perked in alert
Like cruel, biting insects
But tonight is all peaceful,
Artemis shall sleep well
While her messenger
Claws and teeth unbarred, eyes vigilant,
Body of a warrior, proud and powerful
But heart of a lover of all, kind and understanding.
Sweet-smelling soft fur,
Ready for a child’s tears to soak his coat
And for small arms to grasp him close.
His duty is to protect fiercely and to love always.
Focus and skill control his ear and eye.
No evil shall hide from the fierce protector,
And his powerful protectress.
A, a hunter’s eyes,
the crow’s wings,
that unoccupied coffin,
my combat boots.
E, the sun-kissed cheeks,
an apple in my hands,
maybe even blood-shot eyes.
I, the raw flesh of his albino ancestors,
the parchment where I set my ink,
gleam of the morning sun.
O, the last sip of wine,
the bruise on his face,
the shadow under a rose petal.
U, the clouds after a slow rain,
the key to my heart,
my shining moon.
Secrets are kept hidden behind the generic red brick high school walls. Lies. Deceit. Judgment becomes severely and suddenly impaired. Innocence is corrupted. Cheating becomes the norm. Scandals begin to erupt like scorching, burning lava from a volcano. Laws of the nation are broken, worn proudly as markers of defiance. Every nightmare a parent could ever worry about is played out in school as completely normal behavior. Yet, in spite of all this rampant action, brilliance is born. Excellence is revealed and highly developed. Lives are planned out. This is high school.
Old as the Sea, Old as Me.
Old as the sea, old as me.
Old as my soul, your soul.
(Similar they be)
Roaring through our heads.
(Or is it “mine”?)