Ways to Disappear

by Idra Novey

Marcus twisted one of the guavas off the tree. Thumbing off the skin, he told Emma about a time in high school when his mother stopped cooking or buying food. On one of his trips to the supermarket with his sister, several weeks into the problem, Raquel was yelling about their mother being weak and indulgent then abruptly turned to Marcus and said, Turkey. He went to find it, assuming she was going to try to make their mother’s vatapá. When they got home, they found their mother in the kitchen grinding peanuts for the sauce, a can of coconut milk already out on the counter. Neither of us had called to tell her about the turkey, Marcus said. But you must know this about my mother, eh? You have to be patient with her, but also trust your instincts, no?