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Show Inside Out, 36 behind his eyes, in the way he smiled- the smell of the sand, the still of the air, the sharp of the stars. The always-there. He had been so beautiful. So young and strong and handsome. She had felt like the luckiest girl in the world, to have this boy for her brother. He used to run in the mornings. She would see him sometimes, and he looked like a wild horse, like he was dancing in the wind, with no sign of exertion. He always ran alone. What had made him change? "Terra, dinner!" Mom called from the kitchen. Terra gathered up her poems and put them under her homework on her desk. As if Mom would come in and read them, she thought. Mom hadn't come into her room for months. Dad wasn't in the kitchen. Terra could hear the TV on in his room. She didn't even bother asking Mom if Dad was going to come eat with them. He never did. Mom would take a plate in to him after a few minutes. "I met a lady today," Mom said, as she set a plate in front of Terra, "who says she had a near-death experience. She died and then they resuscitated her, and she says she met many people and saw many things while she was gone." Mom's English was perfect, but there was still a certain singing texture to it that gave away her Mexican childhood. She never spoke Spanish at home. Terra used to resent that-how ridiculous was it that she had to take Spanish at school when her mother could have taught it to her from the beginning? |