muriel raze she doesn't walk tali to give herself something to do. that's her son's dog. i know that now. she's more of a caretaker to tali than he is. she's the one who feeds her. she's the one who worries about her. she's the one who's there. there are no niceties with her. she isn't an open book. she's the pulp the paper was forged from. when i told her i met her son, she said, "he didn't even introduce himself to you, did he?" she was right. he didn't. his name is roger. i only know that because she told me. yesterday, after we said hello, she said, "please tell me you've done something since the last time i saw you. because i've done nothing." and we cracked up laughing. 220304 ... raze we've never seen each other without sunglasses. there are so many things i want to ask her, but words won't tell me what i want to know. what was her husband like? how long did it take the two of them to forget how to love each other? what did she look like before she cut her hair short? what kind of dense music did her voice make when she lived in england and her accent was thicker? she told us she'd been to see a friend in the hospital. "it's her birthday today," muriel said. "eighty-eight years old. can you believe it? she's diabetic, and she's just a little slip of a thing. i'd be surprised if she weighs a hundred pounds. she's got pain in her back that's made it hard to breathe. she's been there since monday. still waiting for an ultrasound." she said they didn't think it was anything life-threatening. but no one wants to spend their birthday in the hospital. "i'm not worried," she said. "i'm a firm believer that there's a day you're born, and there's a day you die, and it won't do you any good to worry about what comes in between. you just get on with it. i get angry. sure. but i don't worry about things anymore." she said we would have to forgive her if she was a little cranky. she hadn't read her paper yet. she smiled and said, "i always read the deaths. just to make sure i'm not in there." 220324 ... raze she's leaving in a week. she's flying back to england to visit her sister. she'll be gone for a month. tali ran through my legs before looping around to lean on me. i combed the fur on her back with one mitten-shielded hand. "she's really going to miss you while you're away," i told muriel. "i know she will," she said. "but she'll get over it. and so will you." then she looked at me and laughed, and the sun had to work a little harder to make itself the brightest thing i could see. 220329 ... raze last_night she was in one of my dreams for the first time. i stood in the living room of a house that wasn't mine. i noticed a black padlock on top of the frame of a fireplace that didn't look like it had ever seen fire. the lock wasn't attached to anything. it was just there. i told my dad what the lock told me: "an unlocked mind is a terrible thing. keep it closed at all times." we walked outside and stopped in the middle of the street. a group of smirking teenagers stood in front of us. we were meant to join them, but i didn't want to move. muriel stood to my left. she wore untinted glasses. she didn't smile. "we're all going to break into groups," she said. "this pair of men i know here..." she turned to look at us. she made a cage around my face with her hands. "...the mirror in his head..." because i was a grandfather clock. i was also the lock i'd seen inside. she addressed the younger ones and finished. "...the eighteen of you, and the pain you all share." then i woke up. 220404 ... raze muriel thought she was going to have to clip tali's leash to her collar. there was a little cavalier king charles spaniel heading our way. then she saw who the dog's human was. "oh. it's just amanda." muriel's known amanda since she was twelve years old. "i gave her her first job when i had my cafe," she said. amanda told us the spaniel's name was charlie. "that's the love of my life," she said. tali ran and played with charlie. she made this growling sound i'd never heard come out of her before. "she does that when she plays with other dogs sometimes," muriel said. "but she doesn't have a mean bone in her body. she'd run a mile before she'd hurt anyone." charlie took a page out of tali's book. he found a stick that was six times the length of his body. he dragged it behind him for a while. then he dropped it and ran back to amanda with a smile on his face. "are you looking forward to having some good food in england?" my dad asked muriel. she leaves tomorrow. "no!" she cackled. "it's just a runny joke! they don't know what good food is over there. it's sad but true." she said there's no spice in anything. that's the problem. "windy today," she said. "isn't it? it's supposed to be like that over there too. but it looks like next week you're going to get some nice weather. and so am i." i like knowing that even when she's almost four thousand miles away, we'll still be sharing the same sky. 220407 ... raze "well, that just flew by," she said. "didn't it? i was in yorkshire a whole month. and it was all over in a blink." we asked how her trip was. "it was good. but it took me two and a half hours to get out of the bloody airport the night i got back. they were only letting fifty people out at a time." she seemed content to be back in the city she's made her second home. "i've just been doing all the dusting around the house," she said. "because no one else was gonna do it. but i'm in no rush. it'll get done when it gets done." tali ran into me and headbutted my leg. "i know," i said. "i'm happy to have her back too." for the first time in two weeks, i didn't need to wear a coat. if the forecast holds, it looks like the last cold day of this sluggish spring is behind us. "lovely day today," muriel said. "that's because you're here," i said. "even the weather's in a good mood." "isn't that something? i took it with me, and then i brought it back." 220507 ... raze she said it took her forever to get out of the bank. they didn't have enough tellers. "i was one day late paying my visa bill. sixteen dollars and eleven cents. that was for a sandwich and a drink in dublin. and i ended up throwing out half the sandwich, because the thing had probably been sitting there for a week. but i was starving. i had to eat something." she told us she was late getting to the park because she was watching tennis. "there's a good tournament going on in rome right now," i said. "oh, i know," she said. "i was watching novak djokovic. you know, i can't stand that man." "neither can we!" my dad said. "it's the way he conducts himself," muriel said. "i only watched the second set of the match he played this morning, but between points he had that look like, 'look what i did.' and with all the acting out and smashing his racket ... i can't stand that stuff. it's a poor man that blames his tools." "who do you root for?" i asked her. "federer and nadal." her favourite players are the same two men who made me fall in love with tennis fifteen years ago. the dancer and the bull. roger and rafa. "i miss roger," i said. "i hope he gets to have one last magical run." he's been getting his body back in shape after another knee surgery. "i do too, love," muriel said. "but i have a feeling it's about the end of the line for him. but you know, if it is, it's nothing to feel bad about. he's had a brilliant career. i feel like nadal's just about done too." "he did just win the australian open somehow," i said. "but even he's probably still trying to figure out how he pulled that off." we laughed. we talked about roger, and how there's never been anyone else like him. every time they show a slow-motion replay in the middle of a match, whether he's lunging to hit an impossible backhand volley or framing a forehand into the stands, it's poetry in motion. even his mistakes are beautiful. "i think you really did bring the good weather back with you," i said. "it's a gorgeous day." she smiled and said, "did you remember to say thank you?" 220511 ... raze she brought tali to optimist memorial park on a wet, overcast day and watched her tear through the mud, celebrating her healed shoulder. "she made a real mess of herself," muriel said. "i have a bathroom where you sit on the toilet, you wash your hands in the sink, and you put your feet in the tub. all at the same time. so my son and i had to corner her. she wasn't having any of that. but we got her clean in the end. i was all out of dog shampoo, too. had to use my own." "she does have some nice shine today," i said. "so you're well?" "we are. better now, though." "because of the weather, i'm sure." "no. because we got to see our friends." "i know." 220524 ... raze "i'm very angry with muriel," my dad said. "we haven't seen her in days now." he wasn't really angry. he was joking. "well," i said, "the french open is happening right now. maybe she's been busy watching tennis." ninety seconds later, somebody sidled up to us and said, "someone's following you." it was muriel. she had tali with her. "we were just talking about you," my dad said. "we were saying, 'she's probably at home watching tennis right now.'" "oh, i was. but not now. i'm surprised *he* isn't." she was looking at me. "nadal played yesterday," i said. "he's looking pretty good so far." "he is," she said. "i'm a little nervous about him having to face djokovic in the quarters, though." "me too. it's not right." "that match should be the final." my dad asked her how she got into tennis. "my mother used to play a bit. just with friends. she got me watching wimbledon. you know, it's the only sport i still follow. i used to know everything about hockey when my husband was alive. now i don't know anything about it." there was something else on her mind. "i've got a sixtieth birthday party to go to," she said. "and it's rotting my socks. i don't like birthday parties." "my grandmother was the same way," my dad said. "she'd be standing at the door after fifteen minutes, ready to go." "she's like that," muriel said, nodding at tali. "so am i. half an hour anywhere is long enough for me. a limo bus sat idling in the parking lot. another wedding. "more fool them, huh?" muriel said. "everything's rosy today. but we all know what happens to roses. they die a horrible death." 220529 ... raze we celebrated rafa winning the french open for a fourteenth time. i asked muriel if tali watched the final with her. she laughed. i took that for a yes. "but you know," she said, "that ruud has grown by leaps and bounds. he's really becoming a good player." "i like how he said he was proud to join the list of rafa's thirteen previous victims," i said. "i like him. he seems like a good person." "he does." my dad asked her if she came out for art in the park on the weekend. "hell no," she said. "i don't need anything. and if i don't see it, i can't think about it. keeps things simple." "the only thing i need is more underwear," i said. "you should talk to my son. he's got a drawer full of more underwear than any man could ever need." 220610 ... raze we talked about books a week or two ago. she asked me what i liked to read. "all kinds of different things," i said. "if there's a good story and at least one character i can care about, i'm in." "you'd like the book i'm reading now," she said. "it's called 'where the crawdads sing'. it's set in the deep south. the main character — you like her right away." yesterday she brought it with her to the park. the book was in a clear plastic bag. "that's not because of germs or anything," she said. "it's just in case i drop it. i'll set it on the hood of your car when i pass over there, so you don't have to carry it around with you." i thanked her. "now, don't think you need to read it right away. if it doesn't come back for half a year or a year, that's perfectly fine. i've got plenty of books to keep me busy. i just started reading a new one." then she looked at me a little funny. "where are your nuts?" "they're right here," i said, raising a slider zip bag full of peanuts and walnuts. she nodded. she turned to my dad and told him i was the biggest nut of them all. the cover of the book she gave me shows a woman in a canoe, rowing through the north carolina marshlands with a salmon-coloured sky above her head that's only troubled by a few fading clouds. this is how it begins: "marsh is not swamp. marsh is a space of light, where grass grows in water, and water flows into the sky. slow-moving creeks wander, carrying the orb of the sun with them to the sea, and long-legged birds lift with unexpected grace — as though not built to fly — against the roar of a thousand snow geese. then within the marsh, here and there, true swamp crawls into low-lying bogs, hidden in clammy forests. swamp water is still and dark, having swallowed the light in its muddy throat. even night crawlers are diurnal in this lair. there are sounds, of course, but compared to the marsh, the swamp is quiet because decomposition is a cellular work. life decays and reeks and returns to the rotted duff; a poignant wallow of death begetting life." 220615 ... raze "i'm on page three hundred of the book i'm reading_now," she said. "it's twelve hundred pages." she fixed me with a hard stare. "you can have it when i'm done. and you can keep it." 220630 ... raze the toe caps are always wearing out on her shoes. it's only ever the left one that goes on her. there was a shoemaker she used to visit when it got bad. he died last september. "it must be because that's your kicking foot," my dad said. "the hell it is," muriel said. she kicked the air. then she looked at me. "you think i'm not kicking hard enough? maybe that's been the problem all along." 220706 ... raze "did you see nadal's fight?" she asked me. then she corrected herself. "i mean, match?" "fight's a good word for it," i said. "i don't know how he won that match." "i don't know either. it must be the will he has inside him. i don't know if he'll be able to play in the semis. it's not worth risking his health if going ahead with it is just going to make it worse." "if for some reason he can't play, kyrgios has never lost a set against djokovic. and he hates him enough that playing against him always seems to bring out his best tennis. it focuses him. so he's got a good chance in the final. i don't like him, but if it's a toss-up between him and novak, i'd rather see nick win." "me too." my dad asked her how she was. "well," she said, "i flushed my son's toilet. and the thing still works. so it's a good day." 220707 ... raze we were talking about old clothes. i told her about mary's pyjamas. i'm sure she made them herself. i used to wear them to bed when i was ten or eleven. she was already dead by then. sleeping in the same striped cotton that covered her for so many years before i was born always made me feel safe. "that's because they were made with love," muriel said. "do you still have them?" "they're around the house somewhere. i think the pants would look like shorts if i tried to get into them now." "some things you can't throw away." she squinted up at the sky. "that's a beautiful cloud. i never thought i'd say that about a cloud. but it's true." i took a look. she was right. 220713 ... raze she clipped the leash to tali's collar. "there's a dog over there. looks like a female, too." "how can you tell?" i asked. "is it something about the body shape?" "well, when there's not something hung below..." "i walked right into that one, didn't i?" "you did." when we'd finished laughing, she touched my arm and said, "i'm almost finished my book. it's yours when i'm done. if you don't know about sex, it'll help with that. it has to do with the catholic church." 220724 ... raze "you're looking quite fancy today," she told my dad. "with your white shirt." "i like shirts with pockets," he said. "i only have a few." "my son likes those too. they're good for holding things." "exactly. things like your phone. glasses. money." "you've got money?" "no," he said, laughing. "not anymore." she looked at me. "should we roll him?" 220726 ... raze she had another book with her. like the first one she gave me, it was in a plastic bag. "just to make it easier to carry," she said. "you finished it!" i said. "i did. don't worry if it takes you ten years to read it." "it very well might." the thing was thick enough to be a dictionary. "i'll leave it on your windshield." "you just don't want me swinging it around and beaning people in the head. i know what you're about." "you *could* do some real damage with it." she said it was time for her to start a new book. "i hope it's as good as the last one was," i said. "it won't be. but if i read it faster, maybe it'll get better as i go." 220727 ... raze she was telling us about her friend yvonne. the one who's afraid of heights. "she's eighty-eight," muriel said. "we walk together. i like to get her up and moving. but i have to meander a bit with her. and i'm just not good at that. i'm like a drunken sailor. i need to walk with pace. she says she feels like her upper body isn't strong enough to support her. she's always falling, the poor thing. you've seen her. she uses a walker. i keep telling her it's all in the legs." muriel said she used to lift weights. that fell by the wayside when the pandemic hit. "oh, did i tell you? i had to renew my license. over eighties." she rolled her eyes. she sat in a room full of wizened women. they all took turns drawing clocks on blank sheets of paper to test their cognitive abilities. marking off ten past the hour here. two-thirty there. none of them got behind the wheel. "i think one lady failed," she said. "she was eighty-six. we had to wait, 'cause she showed up ten minutes late. and then she wouldn't do a thing the woman testing us told her to." she said there was something she wanted to ask us, but she couldn't remember what it was. i told her that happens to me too sometimes. "age is my excuse," she said. "and you've got none at all." "when you're right," i said, "you're right." 220827 what's it to you? who go blather from