in his not-cut one. So much blood, so much glass,

so much sadness in his eyes.

I have to get to that plane, he says again and again.

I have to get to that plane.

And then there are men in our house, in white

a stretcher

voices coming through walkie-talkies

cops again

and then the house is quiet

my mom and dad gone

and then

and then

Uncle Sightman is there.

Get some rest, ZJ, he says, his big hand on my shoulder.

It’s all gonna be right in the morning.

Ways to Disappear

Uncle Sightman makes me toast and eggs and ham

for breakfast.

He has music on, some old-school song about blue lights

in somebody’s basement. The woman sounds

like she’s crying,

and even though I went to sleep right after I went back to bed last night,

I still woke up in tears.

I wipe my eyes again before coming downstairs.

What’s up, big man, Uncle Sightman says.

I guess you seen it all last night.

He tells me both my grandmas and my auntie

are flying on in later.

All your people rushing here to be with y’all, he says.

He looks at me. His eyes are dark brown, big and clear.

Mama always teases him, calls him the Pretty-Eyed Man.

I sit down, suddenly hungry and not hungry all at once.

They gonna be with us awhile? I ask him.

Long as you need them to be. After a minute, he says

You know that’s true for all of us, big man.

You know we all got you.

I nod but don’t say anything.

Your mama said to let you know if you want to stay home from school today—

I’m okay, I say real fast.

I want to be at school. I want my brain focused

on science and math

and social studies and ELA. I want to fill up my mind with

everything

but this.

She said tell you your dad’s okay. He’s resting.

But he’s not okay, I say,

shoving eggs and toast into my mouth.

I know, big man, Uncle Sightman says. I know.

Company

Ollie, Daniel and Darry meet me in the schoolyard,

the four of us standing in a huddle, their hands

all touching my shoulders at once.

We heard about your dad, they say.

You know we got you, ZJ.

Ollie even gives me a hug, bro style, pounds my back,

then Daniel and Darry do the same.

There’s a bubble in my throat

and something painful pushing at the back of my eyes.

This is a whole nother kind of pigskin dream

to have your boys surrounding you,

telling you they got you,

their hands on your shoulders,

their arms around your neck.

Figure we’ll go to your house later,

Daniel says.

Keep you company and whatnot, Ollie says.

The Fantastic Four got this, Darry says.

Music