Monkey Beach

by Eden Robinson

On wa-mux-a, the day winter shook out his cape, the snow fell in big flakes, but later the sun came out and melted them all away; that was winter going home.

The house has grown a thick scum of quiet.

Names have power. This is the fundamental principle of magic everywhere.

While I was over at Ma-ma-oo’s, Dad came home and caught Mom slurping down a large mug of coffee. He sprinted out to the porch and sucked down half a pack. They both told me separately about the moment when they looked at each other and started laughing. “I wanted to marry her all over again,” Dad said.

I didn’t understand why she was mad at me. I didn’t understand why I was the one getting blamed for some assholes acting like assholes.

The ocean glistened like crumpled aluminum.

As I drove away, I felt deeply comforted knowing that magical things were still living in the world.