Kim Chinquee

After so many days of cloud cover, I want to penalize the sky. Get out of bounds, I want to say to all the gray. I like clouds, but they must be so high and clotted that I can’t even see them. The air looks to me like a giant sheet of blankness.

I go to the post office to mail a package to my son. The attendant tells me I need a customs form. It’s an APO AE address. On the form, I write my son’s address. He’s a staff sergeant, the rank I was when I left the Air Force. I was medical, and he’s army infantry, deployed just west of Ukraine. I don’t know much about how his days are, other than he’ll be gone for at least six months, and he’ll be there over Christmas. I’d texted his wife for his address, and she said I could text him on a separate app that’s secure from the Russians. After I downloaded the app and texted, my son reminded me that he’s seven hours ahead of me in time. I asked if I could send a package.

He doesn’t need anything except maybe a cup warmer. A candle melter. They can’t have lighters or flame makers in their bays. Hmm, I thought, when I saw that. So that means they’re in bays. Like the ones I remember when I was in basic.

I volunteer more info on the form. My address, and then the box’s contents and the quantity and value. Item: Cup warmer. Quantity:1. Value: $30. Item: Candy Cane: Quantity: 12. Value: $10. Item: Hot chocolate mix. Quantity: 2. Value: $10. Item: Chocolate Candy: Quantity: 7. Value: $60. Card: Quantity: 1. Value: $7.

I kind of summarize some things. Neglect listing others. There are wasabi snacks, peanut-butter cups, chocolate-covered almonds, chocolate buffalo wings, Buc-ee’s nuggets – that his wife told me he likes – that I could only find on Amazon. Pop Rocks that he used to eat as a kid. A big bag of Warhead candies, which I didn’t realize until after I taped the box that it’s maybe too ironic. There’s a Christmas card, specific for a son. I included a note, saying, ‘I hope you’re safe and well.’ I added another note, reminding him I love him.

Back at the counter, the attendant says I’ll be charged domestic prices. He still has to log in all the contents. ‘Since it’s an APO AE,’ he says.

‘I understand,’ I say. ‘I used to be on the other end of it.’

He says, ‘Where were you stationed?’

‘Germany,’ I say.

‘Did you like it?’

He looks maybe my son’s age. Maybe a little shorter. His skin’s a little darker. He’s muscular and stocky.

‘Loved it,’ I say. ‘I wanted to stay longer, but instead got sent to North Dakota.’

‘Ouch,’ he says. He studies his screen. ‘My sister was in Germany. Stationed there. But then she got pregnant.’

He has a nice smile. I like that he is friendly. He says, ‘She wanted to be closer to us. Family.’

I think of my days in Germany, a single mom, my son as a toddler. The parkas we’d wear. The parkas we wore in North Dakota.

Earlier this week, after my son texted that it’s cold there, I texted, ‘I hope you were issued proper gear.’

Since he’s been in the army, until now, he’s mostly been in warm places. First Hawaii, then Tennessee. Then, where his wife is now, at their new home in Georgia.

I gave trunks of clothes away after I left the Air Force. It was such good quality. Government issue. I wish I’d kept it. I moved to go to school in Mississippi. It can get cold in Western New York. That’s where I live now.

The attendant asks me to respond to the prompts on the screen. ‘Anything hazardous?’ The usual.

The attendant sneezes. I do too, and we tell each other, ‘Bless you.’

After he gives me my receipt and I step outside, the sky has opened like a hiccup. I look up to see a cloud in the shape of a mussel.

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About Kim Chinquee

Kim Chinquee’s eighth book Pipette was published with Ravenna Press. She has three books forthcoming in 2025 with MadHat Press and Baobab Press. She’s Senior Editor of New World Writing Quarterly, Associate Editor of Midwest Review, Chief Editor of ELJ (Elm Leaves Journal), and co-coordinator of SUNY-Buffalo State University’s writing major. She’s the recipient of three Pushcart Prizes, a competitive triathlete, and lives with her two dogs in Tonawanda, NY.