Fallout (Crank 3)

Everyone seems excited to see me.

I’m not sure how to feel in return.

Voices. Questions. Puppy feet.

Television, loud. Timer buzzers.

Oven doors closing. The whistle

of a teakettle. It’s all too much.

I ASK FOR DIRECTIONS

To the bathroom. Follow them

through a maze of halls and space.

This house is crazy. Compared

to Grandfather’s staid white

rooms, these are warm with wall

color, art, and hardwood floors.

I don’t know my grandmother yet,

but I feel her presence here.

She’s an author. I’ve seen her

books around school, though

I’ve never opened one.

I wonder if I would have, had

I known how much they relate

to me. I think maybe not. Surreal.

I wander down a long hallway,

hung thickly with family photos.

Hunter in Little League. Kristina

as a teenager. And uh … me,

as a baby. I was here all along.

I need air. I cut through my grand-

mother’s office, go out a side door.

Summer

LOOKS LIKE THE PARTY’S STARTED