"Sucuyant"

It is an awkward thing to consider what she’s said in front of her. I think it’s because there’s a ring of truth to it. It’s hard to admit this in the face of her giant, sterile house. So I focus on what she does have. “Your Granny’s awesome.”



“I know.” She is staring at the M&M’s, no longer eating them. Without knowing, I’ve crossed an invisible line. “Here.” She hands me the bag. “I don’t want them anymore.”


“But you love them!”


“Mother’s right. It’s just going to land on my hips and thighs and then where will I be?” She is focusing on her rail thin arms and legs as if any moment they will double in size.


“Um, I think you have a ways to go,” I say and shove my thick legs up against hers. When she laughs I don’t know if I should be relieved or offended. “Hey, what was that word Pearl called your mom?”


“Oh, a Sucuyant!” She is smiling so wide I can see flecks of chocolate between her teeth.


“Yeah, what’s that?” I pop a few M&Ms into my mouth.


“It’s a vampire that sheds its human skin and flies in the night, sucking the blood of its victims while they sleep.” She is slapping her knees, cracking up at her own definition.


“Does your mom know this?”


“Yes. They pretty much hate each other.” She smiles. “Hand ‘em over. I changed my mind.”


It is refreshing to know that there are some families where hatred is an open, admitted thing roaring between people. It’s so much easier than the Pandora’s box that is my mother and Grandma Ruth. How much neater and calmer life would be if my mother and grandmother sat in my heart with definitive labels?


And yet, I’d rather deal with the myriad of emotions that comes with my family any day over the clear-cut coldness residing in the Jones’s home.