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Sport 34: Winter 2006

7

7

The first time he walked in, we had been standing in the kitchen for some time, he had been in his room. He had been sleeping in his room. I've never been so happy, he said. The two of them, the boys, talked about his new regime. Sleeping for as long as possible. It makes me happier than I've ever been, going to bed in the middle of the afternoon. Not waking up till after twelve. He seems, I thought, a little crazed. I'm only up for water, he said. He tipped most of a glass down his front. He gurgled. Then there was the time I had been standing in the kitchen, he had been in his room. He had been hiding in his room. Don't look at me, he said, moving through the kitchen to the bathroom. Don't look at my face, he said. I can't really remember in exactly what way the reaction to the mango had made his face swell, but I remember how his hands shielded me. I remember how I felt like a bright light. I remember he didn't come out for days. I was standing in amongst the cactus when I had the revelation. It made me feel swollen. I felt like a flying carpet when I remembered the times he had walked in. And the times that I hoped he had walked in.