Grandma Got Shot?

Hey Teacher, Teacher, can I sit wit dju on the bus, please, please and nobody else can sit wit us huh? right ms. G? Nobody else, jus dju and me. right? right?

Hey you guys, I’m sittin here, me an her - she said so, keep goin, no, no, we don’t got to have three, huh Ms. G cause she’s the teacher an just me here wit her in this seat. She says! Yes she do! ”Does” hissed Ms. G automatically as she attempts to calm the commotion and halt the hubub instigated by the intoxication of freedom from classroom constraints and confinement.

A field trip to the Fair - field trip to fantasy for kids who’ve never been to the beach - a chance to jimmy open their narrow window of the world. The big yellow bus belches forward and Matthew slides across the seat, tucks his head under the teacher’s arm and holds tight.

He is small for his age and really not ready for second grade. Ya know what, Ms G, I live wit my grandma - me an my cousins - we live wit my grandma. How nice Matthew she responded trying to sound enthusiastic, how nice for all of you. Do you have a grandma, he asked? She giggled a little to herself; considering her age, it was highly unlikely.

No Matthew, my grandma is dead. Oh he said - she got shot, huh?

What fates decreed him to be unworthy? Which demons damned him to the netherworld, shrouded from truth and enlightenment.

The path to join the torch bearers is riddled with boulders so huge for his small shoulders. And his angel, his celestial spirit must be too busy comforting the Dodgers. Those cousins dropped under the radar . Their Right to Life is guaranted, but not what happens to it. Listen, a rich old guy said, for people like us, it doesn’t matter what happens, for people like us, it's good - everything is good.