- Vol. 05
- Chapter 10
Down cellar in the old green house in Amherst Mass, five different shades of green, I found a box of someone’s relatives, swollen with the damp. Long ago, he moved away, Thinking to leave behind All claim to kinship. The sepia of long-steeped tea, they speak a century of carefully-recorded births and deaths: Grandma, white hair sparked with frost, waits out winter on the porch. A proud entrepreneur beside his enterprise, sign announcing “Pool Table Sandwiches.” Yet even as these details stand the seep of winter and the summer storm, I see someone has quite deliberately de-faced these stout progenitors. More shocking somehow than a skull, their faces now a slur of white marked only with the print of one damp thumb. Despite the clear desire to blot out everything, this unwilling heir has left his portrait among theirs. Beyond the power to deny, DNA’s spiral calligraphy scrolls through his veins. This scion—ambivalent, anonymous, loses nothing in the move.