Saturday, February 28, 2015

Algebra

We gather at the table. "Cream of Wheat again?" Junie asks. Daddy doesn't say anything, he just puts the bowl down in front of her. She's upset, but she knows better than to say anything out loud. I've come to like it. Or at least tolerate. Four spoonfuls of sugar will do that.

"What did you learn in school today?" Daddy asks us before disappearing behind the paper. I learned the quadratic formula in algebra, and the song that goes along with it. It's sung to the tune of "Pop Goes the Weasel," so it's easy to memorize. X equals negative b, plus or minus the square root... He asks what the formula is used for, and I say for a quadratic equation, and he asks what those are used for. "Well," I say, "algebra, I guess." He shakes his head and laughs.

Junie pushes her dinner around with her spoon like she always does. The trick works sometimes when you have a plate of food, separate items. But here there's no hiding the globby porridge. No under this or next to that. It's all the same. "Kyle got in trouble for pushing Mindy down at recess." "What did she do?" "Nothing!" Junie says. "And which one is Kyle?" Daddy asks. "He's the boy who killed our class hamster, his mom works at the hospital." "I never liked that kid," Daddy says, and he turns the page. He should be on the obituaries by now.

I don't know if Junie's ever noticed, but Daddy doesn't eat. Or at least not with us. He makes sure we have family dinner, that was important to him growing up, but I don't remember the last time I actually ate with him. He'll set down two bowls, or two plates, and go behind that paper. I assume he's reading. Sometimes it's late and oftentimes it's bad, but it's never not there. Junie's a picky eater, but she'll learn.

I spoon some sugar onto Junie's bowl. "Hurry up," I say. "It's no good when it's cold." "It's no good anyway." Daddy's right hand lets go of the paper and moves to his face for a second. When it comes back I see that it's a little wet. The soft grey of the paper gets smudged a little darker. I give her another spoonful of sugar.

No comments:

Post a Comment