LUNCH WITH YISKA 1962

A BOY EATS UNCH AT A GIRL'S HOUSE IN 1962

I went home
with Yiska for lunch.

Her mother said little;
welcomed me
in a tired voice
and laid out
the small lunch
for us both.

Watch the time,
her mother said,
you don't want
to be late back
to school.

We've only just
got here,
Yiska said.

I know but if
you talk too much
you will be late,
her mother replied,
not looking at me
but at Yiska.

We ate our lunch;
her mother eating over
by the sink
while she worked.

How was
your morning?
I asked.

Boring stuff,
Yiska said,
double maths
and geography
and then biology.

You're there to learn,
her mother said,
looking around at Yiska,
ignoring me.

I do learn,
but it is still boring,
Yiska replied.

To learn you have
to take an interest,
how can you
have interest
if you are bored?
Her mother said.

If a tap drips
long enough
it still gets
things soaked,
I said,
same with learning.

The mother
looked at me
and said:
do you find
school work boring?

Pretty much,
I said,
but I take in
what they yak about.

That is not the way
to learn,
her mother said,
looking at me full on,
her eyes searching me.

Anyway eat your lunch
or you will be late
back to school,
she said.

We ate our lunch
hoping her mother
would go off somewhere,
but she didn't,
she stayed in the kitchen
working away
preparing vegetables.

We ate and once
while her mother's back
was turned
Yiska kissed me
quickly on the cheek.

After we had eaten our lunch
and I said thank you
and goodbye,
we returned to school.

Sorry about that,
Yiska said,
one of her bad days.

No worries,
I said.

We went off to each
our own playgrounds
and my heart
was making
thumping sounds.