Genealogy

My father got wind of the deal
from someone at work,
the seller in Brooklyn
now past sixty,
bad eyes, he explained
and the Cadillac was
driven only a few miles a week.
It drove like a dream he claimed
as he turned his head
to exhale from his cigarette.
Then as I watched, Dad gave the old guy cash,
didn’t even take the car
for a test spin first. I tried to
suggest a check, a way to back out later,
but he whispered to me, “Sometimes you have
to trust people,” which struck me
as a strange thing
for a salesman to say, but
he believed it. He believed a lot,
passed a lot down and I caught
some of those passes. I followed him
home to Long Island in the old Chevy,
the car I’d now inherit.

Tonight a stranger from the internet
marketplace stands in my driveway,
his two bulky sons
hauling my hardly-used sofa down
the stairs and out to their truck.
He asks, “Can I date the check for Friday,
my pay’ll hit the bank by then?”
My grandson is swatting a tennis ball
against the garage door,
straining to catch this conversation
above the pop-pop of the ball.
I raise my voice a little so he can hear
my answer.

Jack Mackey earned his M.A. in English from the University of Maryland. His first book, Up, Out & Over (Kelsay Books, 2024) won awards from the Delaware Press Association (first place) and from the National Federation of Press Women (second place). A Best of the Net nominee, Jack was awarded a fellowship in poetry by the Delaware Division of the Arts.  Individual poems have appeared in Gargoyle, Third Wednesday, Broadkill Review, Anti-Heroine Chic, Argyle, and other literary publications. Jack lives in Rehoboth Beach, Delaware. www.jackmackeypoet.com