Distant+Whispers

Germany. You look like us.” She shook her head. That was a stupid thing to say, she thought. She eyed
Mikell again. “What was that you said earlier? Something about being hungry. You said it in your
language.”
“Ich—bin—hungrig. That means ‘I am hungry’. Ich means I. Bin means am and--,”
“Hungrig means hungry. That one was easy,” Toni said triumphantly. “Let me try to say it.”
Toni attempted to repeat the words then covered her face in embarrassment. “I messed it up,
didn’t I? Give me an easier one.”
Okay. Guten tag. That means ‘good day’. It’s like ‘hello’.”
“Gooden tag.” Toni scrunched up her nose, shaking her head. “That was horrible, wasn’t it?”
Mikell smiled and nodded. “Yeah, that was horrible…but close. Tag should sound like ‘tok’.
Okay, here’s another. Ich bin Amerikanisch. That means ‘I am American’.”
“Eee-shhh buying Ameri-can-ish!” Toni giggled.
“Uh huh, you’re getting there. Ich bin schwarze. That means ‘I am black’.”
Toni endured Mikell’s grimaces as she twisted her mouth this way and that trying to pronounce his
German words. The words were difficult but it was fun.
“Eee-shhh been swar-zah!” Toni giggled. Jordan’s eyes went back and forth between the two of
them.
“That’s a little better,” said Mikell.
Toni peered at him from under her long dark lashes. “Mikell, how do you say ‘I am happy’ in your
language?”
“Ich bin glucklich.”
“Eee-shh been goo…No! No! That’s not it,” she said shaking her head. “Wait a minute! I’ll get it.
Here it goes. She inhaled deeply. “Eee-shh been glue-glitch! Was that right? Did I say it right? C’mon,
Mikell! Be honest. You keep saying I did well but I don’t sound like you. I sound horrible.”
Mikell laughed. “No! You don’t sound horrible. You sound different. But I love your accent.
German sounds so beautiful coming from your lips.” Mikell’s large eyes, inherited from his German
mother locked with Toni’s almond eyes with black opal centers, inherited from her African ancestors.
Toni looked away first. “Finish your food,” she managed to say through a dark face that perfectly
hid the blood gushing through it.
After dinner, they all entered the living room. Toni sat on the loveseat and picked up Jordan’s
book. “Jordan.” She patted the seat next to her. She was surprised when Jordan resumed his pose
around Mikell’s drawings. Mikell held them up, one by one, to Toni’s oohs and ahhhs. When Jordan
didn’t sit next to her, Toni edged over to the sofa and sat next to Mikell. She shook her head at
Mikell’s sketches.
“Mikell! These are good! Oh, my God! That’s me! Standing in the waters at Winyah Bay! When
did you draw these?”
They sat, shoulder to shoulder, on Toni’s sofa, hunched over the sketches arrayed in front of them.
It was a large sofa—room for three, maybe even four. Yet neither of them budged when arms touched
arms and shoulders pressed against shoulders and legs bumped against legs.
“This one, I drew on Monday, when you took me to the bay. These two sketches of you I drew on
Tuesday night. This one of the old woman, I started last night after I got back from Mount Pleasant.”