Joey

Joey goes to war and comes back with nine children.

It sounds like a joke. Coos Frannie, large bracelets clanging on the diner table. She was prodding ice cream down into her glass with a straw, milling it before each sip.

My soda was cherry-sweet, fizzy. I tried to pay attention.

Twins, the ones he had in Korea, went missing. I nodded. They crossed the border to - well, as dumb as it sounds - play new arcade cabinets. I watched her long nails as she picked up a fry. That’s when I found you. I took another sip.