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grazing the house. So nothing      at me through the thick window

ever grew-not even weeds.          pane, her thin pinky pressed up

And the grass remained soggy       against the glass, pointing in my

and limp year-round, like boiled   direction. She seemed startled
kale.                              and embarrassed when shesaw

Mom-Mom Sylvie's house,            someonehad noticed her.

even as the solitary splotch of    "I don't like the name Jack,

domesticity to be found on         but he's your boy, Brenda, not

Dempsey Boulevard, offered no      mine," she had said hurriedly.

relief to eyes weary from the      "A name like Jack is going to

monotony of blacktop and cold,     make him mean. Don't let him be
sterile architecture.                            a mean boy, Brenda,

It only added to     "Sure sorry you      don't let him."
the emptinessone         had a boy,             Three years later

begins to feel      Brenda," she had      was the next time my
when driving down                         grandmother saw me.
                         said to her      Mom said shecame to
that road alone.                     hOI  our houseunexpect-
      Previousto                          edly and complained
                     daughter W I e       the entire time about
that day, I had     still holding meo     her cats and how they
only seen my
grandmother three   "I never did like     got under her feet and
                                          made her trip and
times during my          b "oys 0000      bruise. She would
life, two of those                        shake her head and
times I couldn't                          click her tongue while
remember. Mom                             she pointed to the
said she and Pop-

Pop Leshad been

at the hospital when I was born,   patches of blue on her elbows

and Mom-Mom Sylvie was the         and kneecaps. Mom told me that

last person I was passed to to be  Mom-Mom wouldn't pick me up.
held.                              She just watched me from my
                                   bedroom doorway, her eyes
    "sure sorry you had a boy,     peering hesitantly into my crib.
                                   All she said was, "He's getting
Brenda," she had said to her       bigger, Brenda," in a disap-
daughter while still holding me.   pointed tone. Thenshe left.
"I never did like boys, never got
along with 'em much."                    The last time I saw her, and
                                   the only time I remember seeing
      When Mom thought Mom-        my grandmother, was seven
Mom Sylvie had left the hospital   years after that, at Pop-Pop
that day, she found her alone at
the maternity ward staring hard

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