I was dropped into my grandmother’s house. It was the eve of
Christmas day and my grandmother’s sister, the matriarch of the West Coast, was
visiting for the holiday so everything was more extravagant than usual, than I
remember. My grandmother’s sister sat in the where my grandmother usually sat, while
my grandmother herself occupied the place where my grandfather had once been
long enthroned. ‘That’s odd,’ I thought, ‘Gammie would never giver up her royal position.’ But, everyone seemed so full of
mirth that I didn’t think much of it. Then I saw him. A boy, about my age, with
a blue shirt and thick curly hair. I at once knew he was my cousin, but had
never seen him before in my life. He greeted me as if we had grown up together,
going on family vacations, visiting for special occasions, doing all the normal
things cousins do. ‘Do I trust him?’ I wondered. He seemed so nice, so
congenial. I took my normal seat to the immediate left of where my grandmother
usually sat but soon realized that I needed a drink. My grandmother’s sister flashed
me a winning smile and said, “In the kitchen, dear.” I had seen deep red wine
scattered across the table, but I can’t stand the stuff so I search for white.
All I could see was a pitcher of red and turned around, acquiescing to my fate,
to get a glass. When I returned to the drinks, there was a pitcher of white
wine sitting next to the red. I was very surely confused for the first time
since my arrival, who had put it there? Nevertheless, I thanked my lucky stars
I didn’t have to drink the blood red wine and carefully poured myself a glass.
All at once, my Aunt Joan was at my side, and, before I knew what she was
doing, she had put some herbs and spices in my drink that looked more
appropriate for a Bloody Mary. “It’s all the rage now,” she assured me of the
curious condiments. It looked disgusting, but I took my seat to finish my lamb,
the traditional Kirchner delicacy. Suddenly, we were sitting on the floor in
the sitting room all gathered around to watch home movies and open a few
presents. The cranberry carpet was so familiar yet so… distant. They started
playing a video of me, the foreign cousin and a new player in the mix, a baby
cousin, one year old, on the beach. Again, he was wearing another, lighter blue
shirt. Out of the blue came a giant, cartoon crow with big yellow eyes. I could
now feel myself in the video, in the scene. I was trying to discern if the crow
was friend or foe since my little cousin was just the size to become carrion
for this frightful animal. The crow walked slowly past her, my alien cousin closer
to her than I. I could tell from the way he sauntered that the crow had the
cruelest intentions of consuming my little cousin so I yelled at my older
cousin to protect her, he wasn’t moving fast enough, it was like a dream where
you’re moving as fast as you can but it feels like running through gelatin.
Again, all at once, I was out of the video scene, hung in suspense. I returned
from my reverie to the entire family destroying every CD, vinyl, and tape
recorder in the house for fear that the cartoon crow was hiding in the mega
pixels and had it in mind to obtain my cousin for food at any price. The affair
had the urgency of preparation for war. I thought of all the family videos
lost, all the music that would never be heard again, and I joined in. I was
vigorously shattering an old CD when I looked up at my odd cousin and said,
with a winning smile, “This is fun.”
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