Promises, Post 4

I lost almost twenty pounds eating nothing but cereal over the next couple weeks, but slowly, with her help, learned to ignore what they said in the guide books about the food causing diarrhea--though later my stomach would be permanently damaged by how spicy things could get.

I thought it quaint when she said people still asked each other out, as in, "Would you go out with me," to determine that they were officially dating.

The doctor says what is growing in her hand are ganglions. She memorizes the sound and waits until we get home to look it up. I search for it on google and discover its alternate name is "Bible bumps." This is because people used to hit the cysts with bibles until they popped under the skin and the built-up fluid ran out into the veins of the hand. This treatment, this blessed beating, they say is "discouraged."

I realize I haven't had a complete Bible since I lived with my parents, though I have an old and beautiful leather-bound copy of the new testament--in a storage unit in Boston. It's far too thin to break the wound stuck inside Cathreen's hand.

As we got to know each other, three years ago, it was a lot about figuring out our different cultures.