Big ***

On the mantle of Mandy’s gas fireplace I saw what looked like a Sears family portrait of Sam standing behind Mandy with one hand on her shoulder and Mandy sitting in front of him, beaming. He was wearing a rather ill-fitting grey suit and she was wearing a rather dowdy flower-print frock.

I sat on the couch next to Sam who, again, took no notice of me, until I asked him a few questions about his earlier life. At first, his answers were monosyllabic, but the more he talked the more he seemed to warm up, until he was telling me more personal things. My Narrative Interview instructor at OSIJ said I was good at getting people to open up (I got an A in his course), and it seemed to be working with Samuel. He told me he was shuttled around to various foster homes in South Korea before finding Mandy, “My true mother. She loves me the way I am. I’m bigger than most kids my age so I don’t get picked on much, but it hurts my feelings when they call me big ass.”