Uncle, unconvinced, worshipped and adored his little sister and the two were inseparable growing up. In the same years Uncle won the scholarship to study in Detroit and left Ghana, himself, for a time. The door was half closed when you came for the books. The scarf blowing forward and hiding her face. They were consumed with their preparations, all of the houseboys and caterers, Comfort sunning in her bikini, Iago working by the pool. You detached the fitted sheet from the narrow twin bed and carried it, embarrassed, to the washroom. A large painted banner on the back of their truck read Mary Christmas!
Bright knives in the dark of her irises. You glanced down the hall to the study; the door was open. Comfort sips foam off her Malta, gazes away. A chalky taste, heavy and soapy as wax. She is terrifying to you, Mariam, viscerally so. Its dark smell of dampness, the wild, winding crawlers climbing the side of the house, the low-hanging tree branches twisted together like the skinny gnarled arms of a child with lupus. She held out her hand. But Yaw is correct. The skin on her collarbones and shoulders, in particular, is impossibly smooth, with a specific effect: The resumption of talking. Francis was frying kelewele for Comfort her favourite in honour of her first morning home. A floodlight on everything around it, in darkness. The best-looking houseboy, indeed. You are noticing this. His beard scratched your shoulder. You recognized the expression. The gesture knocked his glass to the tile where it smashed. You could get up now, unnoticed, leave your books, walk away. You waited for her to finish. Not for a minute do you believe what they say. Two carpenters installing the dance floor, banging nails: Would Auntie like you better if you did? A stack of glossy paperbacks beckoned by the tray. You uncrossed your legs quickly, fumbling to get to your feet, trying to think up an excuse for being in there. It was a new way of seeing her, your own gaze unnoticed, staring straight at her face while she gazed past, through yours. Appearing at the door.
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