The oppressive hands.
A coyote's paw
Is for standing
For grounding
I wonder, if we walked
On our hands
As animals do
Would the world feel more like
Something that supports us
Instead of something
We have to hold up?
BUSTED
Raphaelle!
Dad shouts up my stairs
Along with my middle name
AND last name
That's how I know
I'm in big trouble.
I had an interesting conversation
With one of my students
He begins
Oh shit, I think.
And he yells at me
For ten minutes
About smoking pot
With Kieran
And Mom joins us
And shares the news
That she found
A condom wrapper
Under my bed
And I'm about to get
So grounded I'll practically be
Dead and buried.
And Dad says
Jesus Christ
Did you sleep with Kieran?!
And I say
No, I did not sleep with Kieran
It was Samir
Only Samir
But we broke up
So you don't have to worry
About that anymore.
But they both keep yelling
Until even Kayli is telling them
Stop it! Stop it!
Can't you see how upset she is?
And everyone stops
And sees.
TEARS
For my little meltdown
I get:
A hug from Kayli
A glass of water from Dad
And an interrogation from Mom.
Was that a panic attack?
I used to get them too
All through high school.
I would wake up
Unable to breathe.
Is it like that?
Are you eating?
You look thin
Are you throwing up?
Are you sleeping?
Do you want to try pills again?
And Dad
Who prefers an unmedicated life
Says,
Maybe she could share a room
With Kayli again
She might sleep better.
And when Kayli hears this
Despite her earlier support
She screams until
She has an asthma attack
I've got to give it to her
She knows how to work a crowd.
So Dad says
My house, my rules
Stop being so selfish
Then Kayli says
Can't she just find another boy
To keep her company?
And Dad says
Watch your mouth, young lady
Which makes her go crazy
Wheezing and screeching
So even though I'm grounded
And under observation
I just walk out.
I figure I'm seventeen
That's old enough
To join the army
Right?
HEAT STROKE
No sunscreen
No sunglasses
No hat
Bare shoulders
All I have
Is a bus pass
Phone
Flip-flops
And five bucks
In the pocket of
My overalls.
I buy a Gatorade
And park my butt
Under a tree
By the lake
Thinking
I should have
Spent the whole
Summer here
Watching ducks.
And I mean
The WHOLE summer
Day and night
Twenty-four/seven.
DEADLY SERIOUS
As the air finally cools
My phone beeps
Samir:
I need to talk to you
Tonight
Can you meet me?
He gives an intersection
When I reach it
I realize it's his mosque.
Samir stands
Rather formally dressed
Between the columns.
When I join him I see
His parents and sister
Standing nearby.
Samir turns to look at them
A beseeching look on his face
His father's eyes narrow
And I begin to suspect
Some kind of intervention.
Look, I know this is
â
Samir begins
But his father clears his throat
Rather forcefully.
And Samir snaps
Something back in Arabic
Obviously his father
Is unmoved.
Poor Samir
He's still very cute
When he sulks.
Until he sighs
And says
Raphaelle, will you marry me?
COOL
And it takes all my
Self-control to breathe through the
Urge to laugh out loud.
PARENTS OF THE YEAR
But it goes on
Samir crosses his arms
And looks anywhere but at me.
You will have to convert
Samir says
But, well, will you?
He recites tonelessly
Like a bad actor
Will-you-convert-to-Islam-and-marry-me?
By now I have an idea
Of what's going on
And I play along
Because poor Samir
Is as red as the setting sun.
No, I say.
I don't think that's a good idea.
Samir turns to his family
Happy?
How do you feel?
His mother says
And Samir answers
With a stream of Arabic
That makes his sister hide her smile.
In English
, his father says.
Embarrassed, S
amir says
Humiliated.
And?
And ashamed.
I feel
Ashamed.
His father looks satisfied
We'll see you inside
, he says.
RELIEVED
Would you have married me
If I'd said yes?
I suppose
, Samir says to his feet.
You shouldn't feel ashamed
We didn't do anything wrong
We were careful, mostly
And we love each other
We loved each other
How can that be wrong?
If you fall in love
With another Muslim
Or any pious man
He might not want you
Because you're not a virgin.
I'll have to make sure
That doesn't happen then
No more pious men for me
Anyway, you're not
A virgin either.
It doesn't work that way
He says, and I can almost taste
His bitterness
A Muslim girl only wants
To be respected
But now I'll always want
What you let me have.
He turns his head away
So fast I wonder
For a moment
If I've slapped him
Or if he only expects me to
For showing me a side of him
He usually hides so well.
That's a revolting thing to say
I tell him, measuring my voice
Like strong medicine
Don't ever say that
To me or to any girl
Ever again
For any reason.
Samir falls silent
Still as the marble columns
And I'm tempted
To stomp away
End it with an exclamation mark
But I can see that he is crying.
Habibi, I say
Gently.
Don't call me that
, he says
Wiping his eyes
I don't think you will ever be able
To see the world as I do.
I need to go pray.
As he turns I call after him
Samir!
You should tell your parents
About Ashraf's wedding
They have a right to know.
He slips off his shoes at the door
Without looking back
And says,
Maybe I will
MYSTERIOUS WAYS: PART ONE
The steps of the mosque
Are cool stone
And feel ancient
As I sit and watch
The dark curtain of night
Rise around me.
The chanting song from inside
Washes over me
Like clear water
And I hear the end
Of summer humming
Somewhere too
Just beyond my reach.
MYSTERIOUS WAYS: PART TWO
An old man sits down next to me
Do you have questions about Islam?
No, I say quickly
I'm just resting.
Rest is good
, he says
I guess he must be some kind of priest
And he's a good one
Because his quiet company eats at me
Until I can't help but speak.
What does Islam say about someone
Who can't seem to stop
Doing stupid, thoughtless things?
Who can't stop thinking
About stuff that scares her?
Who keeps getting betrayed
By people she should know
Better than to trust?
Who might be hurting herself
Without even realizing?
The man turns to me
Islam would say
That person is probably a teenager
Then he gives me a cheeky smile
Or perhaps you are possessed by Djinn
Gin, I say. Like the drink?
Djinn,
he says
Mischievous spirits.
The English word isâ
I interrupt
I know, I say
The English word is
Genie
.
I can't help it
I start to giggle.
THE SIDEWALK LESS TRAVELED
There are two ways back to my house
I could skirt the park and cross the footbridge by
The mansions with their water-sucking lawns
Grab the express bus to the coffee shop
And take a short walk up our street.
Or I could board the winding bus
And take a tour of familiar places
School, the spot where Samir and I ate baklava
And the ballpark where I howled at the moon
What difference would it make?
I choose the first way, the walk
Will do me good, the fresh night air
The quiet streets, excited crickets
Though the other route, to be honest
Probably involves as much walking.
One day I might look back and wonder
Why I took this way tonight of all nights
I could have done my usual meandering
Instead, I point myself like a ship's prow
And make landfall in front of Genie's house.
IN GENIE'S FRONT YARD
What are YOU doing here?
Go away.
You're still here.
What is the matter with you?
You have to leave.
My dad is getting suspicious.
Freakazoid!
Get lost!
You can't just stand in our yard all night!
What do you want?
I have nothing to say to her, Dad!
I have nothing to say to you.
Please, Ella, Dad's asking questions now.
I'll get grounded again.
I'm sorry, okay?
Now go.
You're crazy!
Why are you doing this to me?
INSIDE OUT
I had an epiphany
I say
Genie sighs, sits
And pulls out her phone
epiphany
[n. pl -nies]
a sudden, intuitive perception of or insight into reality or
the essential meaning of something, often initiated by some
simple, commonplace occurrence.
Go on
, she says
It happened on the steps of the mosque
Samir and I had one of those final scenes
I'll tell you about it one day
It was crushing, but kind of priceless
Anyway, after I was just sitting there
And this old dude started talking to me
He might have been some kind of priest
Long story why, but I thought of you.
And I saw you then, but inside out
And I saw things I recognized
And it terrified me to think that maybe
Everybody looks like that on the inside.
I know now that Samir does, and David
And Kayli, my mom, my dad even
Marika, Sarah, Kieran, it's getting so
I don't want to look into people anymore.
Somehow I thought you might be
The one who was neat and tidy inside,
I thought your meanness required control
But maybe you're just as random as the rest of us.
I take things too personally
It felt like you wanted me dead
But now I'm starting to think
It was never about me, was it?
BLUE BALLPOINT
Do you have a pen and paper?
I ask
I want to draw your hand.
You're so weird
, Genie says
But she goes inside
And comes back out
With paper and a blue ballpoint.
I hate blue ink
So it seems fitting
But soon I'm frustrated
Freckles are hard to draw, I say.
Try living with them
, she says.
And then
Want to hear all the names
I've been called?
Spot, spotty, leopard
Leper, patch, pixels
Spackle, speckle
Freckle-face
Pox, poxy
Measles, dotty
Speck, splatter
Sprinkles, fly poop.
She sighs.
Ugly, fat, stupid.
I reach forward
And take her hand
Turning it over.
Palms are easier anyway, I say.
And let my fingers
Linger
On her wrist
On
A
Thin
White
Scar.
STARS
Genie falls back
Like she's been shot
In a movie