they pulled up to the temple

Taiwan Organic Betel Nut was flashing across the curvy mountain street

"your granddaddy hates noise"

her father looked at the parading temple gods

she was trying to concentrate on the S curves and the parking

"your granddaddy likes open spaces"

she knew daddy was talking about the confined shelf space granddaddy's ashes resigned

B1 A9 2

basement one, space A, ninth shelf, second to the left

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she was in sixth grade and had just scored the tofu test

she was sleepy and her pony tail had gotten all messy during the hour car ride

she didn't understand why granddaddy's ashes had to be put way up here in a temple

couldn't they take him home and put him on top of the television set or something?

daddy insisted on driving over to tell granddaddy

she wanted to be cynical and roll her eyes and say something like

he's dead

but she couldn't

she walked sideways down the steep stairs

there was plastic wrap on the ceiling

"Mind Your Head"

in rainbow markers

she walked down and couldn't breathe

all those people

compressed into urns

tagged, pictured and labeled

it was too crowded

daddy pointed to the jug way up

she was too short to see the picture

she thought she should cry

but she couldn't

it was too crowded and she couldn't breathe

--------------

the plastic wrap was still there

the marker sign had faded a little

she padded down the steps and reached for the stool

stepped on it and brushed off granddaddy's urn

and she started babbling about her life

even when he probably had already seen all of it

following her like a soap opera

the closest strangers

she wished

she could at least have a decent memory of him

she could have seen his expression if he knew about the tofu

that last glimpse in the casket wasn't him

that she could have cried at the funeral

she wished he hadn't put that plastic bag over his head

just take care of them when i'm gone kay?

she whispered and kissed