Sunshine

There is a tiny hole in my belly button. During the day, sunlight finds its way through the crevices of my clothes and slips into my body. I sit by the window during class, which makes it even easier for the sunshine to sneak in and find the crack. The view from the 7th floor is unbelieavable. I can see the whole strait, with the sun glittering on its surface, passenger ships crossing it, seagulls hovering above the tiny fishing boats... I can almost smell the salt of the sea. "Irmak!" My math teacher yells at me sometimes for not paying attention. "Sorry, Mr. Mescher." It's alright, I know he likes me. He thinks I'm smart.

After collecting light all day, my body dimly glows at night. I stand by my father as he reads his novels in bed. I kiss his forehead as he falls asleep. He doesn't like the night lamp, my light is softer. On Sunday mornings we wake up early and prepare breakfast together. He acts as if he's a celebrity chef, and I play his sous chef. We put slices of pepperoni and provolone on Wonder Bread, apply sauce, and bake them in the oven. The sauce is the key. It's different every time, a different mixture of ketchup, mayo, mustard and heavenly herbs. Every single time, it's delicious, and I'm sorry, but every single one of those is a secret recipe. We are masters of sauce, and I'm afraid I can't give you our professional secrets. We laugh so much when we are in the kitchen. When the gourmet breakfast is ready, we open a bottle of Pepsi and eat and watch bad science fiction movies. I love Sunday mornings.

Sometimes my girlfriend comes over and we sleep together. My father stays in his room to give us privacy. When we first had sex, I glowed like a sun. She couldn't open her eyes. When she finally did, we looked into each other's eyes for hours. She says I'm beautiful when I gleam. I know that one day we will break up, and I will love other girls, but I don't think about that. I really, really like her.

Weeknights my father and I order kebab or Chinese. I watch television, he reads his newspapers. Watching TV is slightly annoying because of my constant, softly shining reflection on the screen, but I got used to that. If there is a football game, we watch it together and curse at our terrible team in unison. We even drink beer together sometimes. I wish there was a game every day.

Then he goes to bed and I stand by him and he reads his novels under my soft light. He cries a little if the ending is sad. I kiss his forehead as he falls asleep. When my mother died of cancer, I cried so hard that my belly button cracked a wee bit and light started seeping in.