Lea discovers the photograph
while sorting through the layers
of Granddad’s life, cleaning
the mess that so many years of living
leaves behind. Wedged in the seam
of a cardboard box, a black and white
picture of a little boy—dark hair,
round cheeks, wide mouth.
As soon as Lea sees him, she can hear
his voice in her head, his wild laugh,
can feel her own rising panic.
She passes the photo to her grandmother,
asks who he is, knows the answer will differ
from the one in her own head. Grandma
shakes her head, then flips the picture over,
her expression shifting to sadness
as she reads the name written there.
“That’s your granddad’s brother Nicholas.”
The name hits Lea like a projectile,
but she forces her voice steady.
“I didn’t know Granddad had a brother.”
“He died young, probably not long
after this picture was taken. Pneumonia,
I think, or maybe flu? Your granddad never
talked about him, it hit him so hard;
I only know from your great aunt Pat.”
Lea nods and nods, as though
this simple motion will keep her
from screaming, will keep her heart
in her chest. She tells herself
she must have seen this picture before
(even though her grandmother clearly hadn’t),
must have heard the name from someone
(even though Granddad had been
too heartbroken to speak of him,
and Lea had never met Great Aunt Pat).
Surely there is a logical explanation,
some far-fetched truth to cling to.
But all she knows for sure
is that she played with Nicky
every day when she was five,
got upset when Mom referred to him
as imaginary, clung to his hand
as he dragged her into all nature
of thrilling adventures.
She knew everything about him—
he loved caterpillars but was scared
of butterflies, he could read better than
she could, he didn’t know any of the songs
she’d learned in kindergarten, but he’d let
her teach him, his voice always slightly
off-key when he sang. Now she realizes
how little she actually knows—about him,
about herself, about the nature of imagination
and the slipperiness of death—
and she wants so badly to call him back
and beg him to explain.