and a large sack of cornmeal. That
was her way of preempting any
complaints about my visit. At my
gran’s house I always got seconds,
which none of the other kids got.
My grandmother would give me the
pot and say, “Finish it.” If you didn’t
want to wash the dishes, you called
Trevor. They called me the rubbish
bin of the family. I ate and ate and
ate.
I was hyperactive, too. I craved
constant stimulation and activity.
When I walked down the sidewalk
as a toddler, if you didn’t have my
arm in a death grip, I was off,
running full-speed toward the