On Thursday, the day after the three pairs of shoes, I had to finish my science project, which was a model of a cell made out of a paper plate and various snacks. The cytoplasm was yellow Jell-O, the nucleus was a plum, the mitochondria were gummy worms cut in half. It was due Friday. I set it on the floor of the living room to take a picture for the class website, and I stood over it and held the phone straight down, the way our teacher told us to, and I took the picture, and I sent it to Abuela, because she liked to see my projects and she always wrote back something ridiculous.
What I didn't notice was that the toe of my left shoe was in the corner of the frame. Silver duct tape, two layers, pressed into the groove. I had my shoes on in the house because the floor was cold.
She wrote back in about four minutes. Abuela texted like she talked, in short bursts, with no punctuation unless she was mad.
Looks good mija the plum is perfect
Then, thirty seconds later:
What is on your shoe
I looked at the picture. I saw the tape. My face went hot, alone in the living room.
I wrote: lol nothing it's fine
She wrote: That is duct tape
I wrote: it's just till next month
There was a long pause. The three dots appeared and disappeared and appeared again. I imagined her in her kitchen in Moses Lake, at the yellow Formica table, holding her phone at arm's length because she refused to wear her reading glasses, squinting at the corner of my cell model.