Little Inklings 2023

This park is unlike the one near our house. I am not allowed to run and play and my family is silent, staring at a hole in the ground but not letting me get near it. On the drive home, no one speaks. They are hiding behind those paper things from an enemy I cannot see. I lean my head out the window with the wind against my face and close my eyes, thinking about the last time I saw my Pappou alive. With my eyes still closed, I can hear all the noise of my Greek relatives at Sunday dinner. They all tell each other how cute I am. I admit I really know how to play it up. Growing up as the only pet Greek grandchild I’m even admired for my over-sized ears. Yai Yai gives me another toy that squeaks too loud and tastes like plastic, but all eyes turn to me as Dad throws it across the floor, so I chase it over and over. I am happy to be in the spotlight. Dinnertime is my favorite. Yai Yai’s cooking smells delicious! She puts a big bowl of water and what looks like dried cereal on the floor for me. I don’t mind not being at the big table, but dog food? Pappou quietly holds his hand under the table, dropping pieces of warm lamb on the floor near his shoe. Now we’re talking! When my stomach is full I sneak off to my grandparents’ bedroom, crawling up on Pappou’s recliner for a nap. “Bailey?” My father calls. I pull my head back inside from leaning out the car window and hear the silence again. We are home. There will be no Sunday dinner. No noise. No cousins. No squeaky toy. No pieces of lamb. From my perspective, a microscopic thief has stolen all the noise. FROM MY PERSPECTIVE… By Alexa Charouhis ’27 7