Mine (2026)

My dad called me this past Monday. His mom Enlé hasn’t been well.

Aunt Rasa cares for her. She noticed Enlé get unusually weak, and two weeks ago there was the fall.

It was on the first landing, where they display some of their acrylics and marguçiai. Enlé's knees feel like jello. She's in her nineties.

The ER doctor didn’t show my dad the x-rays at first. He just insisted she go in for a retake. My dad called him a quack and snatched the images.

The cartilage and even the muscles were more opaque than the bones.

A month ago, my brother Henry started passing out on multiple shifts at the foundry in Pittsburgh. The last week, the stress from all this and work has started getting to me. My heart starts flipping around at night again.

I called Henry yesterday afternoon.

He recalled my cardiac ablation decades ago. I recalled when he would drop to the ground running cross-country or playing bassoon. Being abnormally tall messed up our hearts. I said I’ll never let you live down that bassoon. He said your violin was dying cats the first five years. Maybe it still is sometimes, I said.

Henry told me the foundry might fire him if he keeps passing out. He doesn’t belong there. He liked thermodynamics.

He said he never loved his job. I said I don’t love it either.

My pulse flubbed. I should check myself in. My chest feels different than before the ablation. Tachycardia made it a human rock tumbler, but now the movement feels subtler. A compression. The blood in my shoulders runs cold.

Henry said sorry for July 4th.

Two months ago on that day, Henry and I got into it about the strongest material in front of our friends. I studied Geology briefly before becoming a teacher, so I said maybe diamond or lonsdaleite. He asked what lonsdaleite was. I said your dead Lithuanian uncle.

He told me with a stone face, Nothing is stronger than steel.

I laughed without thinking. Yeah, there is.

Name it.

He was uncharacteristically sober about it. Friends started looking over.

Henry. Something on the periodic table.

I am a materials engineer.

His eyes narrowed. The distance between us expanded.

Name one.

One what.

Element.

Sustained silence. Our friends didn’t care about materials science.

They did not breathe.

Henry, why you are quizzing me right now?

I bit the inside of my cheeks. Tears welled in my eyes when I looked into his and saw my own. He stared through me--something he hadn’t done before.

Then he collapsed on the table.

I think that was the start of things, I spoke into the phone.

I called my dad after hanging up with Henry, to get his opinion before driving to urgent care. He gave me an Enlé update:

They won’t be able to fix the rib.

What? Why?

She’s too old. Tough to do.

What’s with the x-ray?

Well…we scheduled with orthopedic. You know, something odd went down at her place.

Yesterday, my dad brought the IKEA spotlight I'd shed off a former apartment to Enlé and Rasa in Chicago. When they flipped it on with a brighter bulb, something happened they could not explain.

They started seeing things move inside her.

My dad picked up one of Enlé’s fragile hands and held it close to the light. Capillaries twitched and swelled with purple blood.

The bones in her fingers glowed beneath her pale gauzy skin. My dad said the bones looked like clear tubes of honey.

They asked Enlé how she felt. She said normal. She'd sleep well. The appointment was tomorrow evening.

It's not a little urgent? I pleaded.

Silence on the other end.

Mm. Nah, she'll be fine.

Last evening I sat on my couch with my cat. Enlé had sent me a few of her paintings in the mail. I picked up their box and leafed through them.

One of Rasa standing at Lake Michigan.

One of some Lithuanian flower.

Another of Rasa in front of their old house on the North Side.

A field of poppies in rippling wheat.

Enlé told me a few times about her childhood before the Nazis. Her family's farm. Her murdered father. Their poppy fields.

Don't run through a poppy field, she'd say. You'd get a little tick.

I promise I won't, I'd say.

I adore her; we're not close. She doesn't say much.

I pushed the paintings aside. She's also started giving me her marguçiai because she said she won't need them when she dies. She's given me other things and said the same thing for as long as I can remember, but never her prized artifacts.

Twelve eggs in cardboard boxes, all different sizes. Probably a cassowary egg of some sort within. Her artwork is often symbiosis between Lithuanian design and Australian fauna.

Before her hands went out, she was going less traditional with the designs. Her last was a series of eggs with etchings of stone surfaces.

Sapphire with many shades of blue wax to denote values. A moonstone coated in egg wash. Turquoise with veins of metallic paint. Her kids' birthstones. Our birthstones.

My youngest sister Lou's is diamond. Enlé used the spectrum of colors in crayon and paint and sealed it with an iridescent sequin. The ordeal would have taken months.

I rang my dad up again.

Mmmm...Ya? His bedsheets rustled.

It was 6:45pm. Sorry--did I wake you?

Mm? Ya. It's okay though. What's up?

I asked her if Grandma would actually be okay tonight.

A long pause. People her age could always be dead tomorrow.

Dad.

What?

I'm sorry you're going through this.

Mmm. Ya. Just reminds you life is short. You or I could be gone tomorrow too.

At the age of five in the car after a funeral, I told my dad I was afraid he'd die. He said he would. He said we would all die, and I would too. That's why we had to enjoy life. Then he turned the music up on the dash.

It took some time to process.

On the phone my dad switched from Enlé to personal ailments, a subject well trodden. I prepared by switching subtitles on HBO Max and pressing mute.

I found my own ophthalmologist, he said. Chun retired.

Dr. Chun was my dad’s partner in practice for decades.

How does it feel to pass the torch to someone else?

Olive Kitteridge is particularly stabby this episode, I thought to myself.

Well, this actually stumped me. I started feeling intense pressure behind my eyes.

That's no good; what did he say?

Ya that's never good. She said we needed a CAT scan, so I went in.

And?

They found something behind the eye, OU.

OU is both eyes. I worked for his practice through grad school as a surgical tech, so our secret code was people’s bodies.

Wait. What?!

Like crystallized. They don't know what it is.

By your brain?!

Eh. Not quite.

Dad!

What?

Why did you not tell me this earlier tonight?

Silence on the other end.

The crystals aren't that big yet.

Today, all four of us went to our respective doctors.

Minh ran an echo right at 7am, just him and me. He was my dad's best friend in med school.

That's odd, he said.

What?

Hold on. I'm increasing the gain.

A pause.

Something's reflecting.

I scanned a dark room. What light?

Shut up and hold still. He clawed my jaw and squished it to the side.

I'm telling.

...Those aren't artifacts. His grip tightened fast.

Erker, Erndiana Jernes.

Shh. The cracking of a plastic dial.

His fingertips clamped into my skin.

Later he said my MRI was strange.

What kind of strange, I asked.

There are regions with signal characteristics I haven't seen in anyone's heart.

He'd been a researcher at UChicago for thirty years.

What regions?

Inclusions embedded in the ventricular walls.

Which ventricle?

Both.

And the atria, I rolled my eyes.

Yes.

A tumor?

No.

I laughed incredulously. Eet's not a toomahhh.

Well. What is it?

Something dense.

Calcific—?

—Just no more questions right now.

A look askance.

Nobody knows yet, Gintare. I'm sorry. I really am.

By noon, my father called. New ophthalmologist stopped responding to questions halfway through the CT.

Henry's cardiologist in Pittsburgh ordered an emergency biopsy right off the echo.

Enlé's orthopedic surgeon wouldn’t allow the radiologist to leave the room, and my dad nearly missed his appointment sitting with her.

Minh put me under same-day to take an emergency biopsy. I awoke at 3pm feeling nauseous.

I rolled over. A missed call from Henry. I dialed his number. He was in the hospital too.

They broke the needle, he said.

Which needle?

That big biopsy one.

Inside you?

No, outside in the parking lot. The tip was flattened. They got a sliver, though.

A sliver?

Ya. They asked me if I worked with industrial abrasives.

You do.

Right. It's not like something would fly in there, though. There's no wound.

Right.

And it's not in my lungs. You know what else is weird?

What?

Particulate contamination doesn't group itself up in a little lattice inside the body.

My dad was calling me. I put Henry on hold for a second.

Butt dial. My dad was at UChicago, two floors above me:

I'd like another radiologist.

My dad's old Levi's creaked as he shifted in a chair.

Hey Dad, I said.

A doctor's faint voice. We reviewed the images, Dr. Lushki.

I need another pair of eyes, my dad said.

Oh. Did we miss something?

No: I think we saw something.

You don't trust my interpretation?

Hello, Dad?

The familiar denim creak answered. My dad exhaled loud enough for me to hear.

I do trust you, Andy. That's why I need someone else.

Da-ad!

I switched the call over.

Henry's voice. Wait a second.

Hold on, Gin. You’re on speaker. Go ahead, Dr. Sharma.

The pathology lab confirmed the specimen is primarily elemental carbon.

Oh. What?

And the fragments don't appear to be recent, Henry.

Do we know how long?

That I'm not sure.

Ohookay. Do we know anything?

A hospital machine beeped.

So...charcoal flecks in my heart?

Not exactly, Henry.

But coal.

A hospital machine beeped.

We see multiple crystalline structures. Look at your images with me.

What?

Multiple crystalline structures. The atomic--

Listen, buddy. I know what 'multiple crystalline structures' are.

Okay. It is our current assessment.

Run the test again.

No, Henry.

Run the test again.

Henry.

Run the test again.

No.

Run it.

I AM THE DOCTOR, Henry.

A hospital machine beeped.

We did run the test again.

Could the test machine be busted?

No, the machine is not busted, Henry.

Henry.

Laanat hai, Henry, we are doing our best.

There was finally a knock at the exam door. It was Minh and two other guys.

This is Dr. Muhammad Danladi. He's been a cardiothoracic radiologist with us for twenty years. He looked at the imaging we did.

Dr. Danladi smiled warmly. The young man next to him, pale and waifish, slouched against the wall like an arugula shoot.

Minh continued, And Dr. Petro Hirnyk, from Earth and Planetary Sciences. He's a mineralogist.

No way! I interjected.

I wanted to be a geologist, Dr. Hirnyk. Then I met an oil man or two.

Haven’t we all, he said.

I envy you, I said. Our eyes met. His had a familiar quality.

Dr. Hirnyk's large teeth sparkled. I looked back at him fondly. He and I had both tasted rocks for pleasure.

I turned to Minh.

Materials scientists are statistically cooler than the others.

I looked him up and down.

I'm learning that, he said. Now for the part you're nervous for.

Now for the part I'm nervous for. I struggled to cover my butt with my surgical gown.

They looked at each other. Now for the part we're nervous for.

I guess I'll go first. Dr. Danladi stepped forward. It looked like they were delivering a school project.

He began. Dr. Kumar, our cardiovascular pathologist, can't be here, so I'm speaking for both of us. We reviewed your findings and verified something strange in your myocardium. We established they were real inclusions, not an imaging artifact or like, a toomah, as you would say--

--Eet's not a toomahhhh, I whispered, raising my eyebrows at Minh, who raised them back. Dr. Hirnyk’s large pale eyes rolled.

Yes, Dr. Danladi continued, but then Dr. Kumar ordered further analysis of the biopsy because it was weird.

Like you, Minh said.

It matches the rest of the body, I said.

Danladi and Minh shifted on their feet a little. Dr. Hirnyk's large icy eyes flew about the room.

Dr. Hirnyk? Minh prompted.

The blue eyes landed on a metal clipboard. They rested there a moment.

The Raman spectra are unequivocal, he muttered. Then he sniffed.

The predominant crystalline phase is diamond.

The eyes landed on me. Chalcedony-looking irises.

Wait. What?

The predominant crystalline phase--

I heard what you said.

A crystalline phase is a--

Buddy! I understand exactly what you're saying. The problem is I have no idea what the hell you're talking about.

Chalcedony eyes in a blank face.

You know? Sorry for calling you Buddy there.

Shcho za bis.

Enlé took her time getting into her son Azuolas' SUV. The step up was agony. She could not feel her toes now.

She pivoted onto the seat and shot pent air from her lungs. How are your eyes, Azuolas, she asked.

They're fine, Azuolas muttered. He popped three Advil and washed it down with Coke.

Coke is good. Lithuanian penicillin. Enlé smiled to herself.

Most of the drive was silent. Enlé named landmarks in her head.

There's Kaufman's, the bagel place. Tuesdays there with the women from Kaunas.

Clybourn train station. On the way to plein air concerts at Ravinia.

Where we going?

UChicago. Where Gin and I go.

How are Gintare and Henry? She rested her fingers on the car window. The sun was still strong and warm, and the bones glowed red behind her blood-rich skin. Pretty.

I don't know. We're working on it.

Normally you know. Look, there is this Bean.

Yeah, I know. Cloud Gate.

She smacked her gums and something clattered. Kind of stupid name for hunk of a selfie mirror.

The School of the Art Institute. Enlé had been accepted. Then she married.

When they arrived in the waiting room, the secretary offered Enlé a mystery-flavor dummy sucker in a loud shrill voice. Enlé politely refused. Her dentures had not fit the past few months, but she wouldn't tell anyone nor the reason why, because those were hers to know.

She shifted into a waiting-room seat, the pleather croaking against her teal polyester pull-ons. She remembered this shirt--she wore it the day that Henry was born.

Elna Lushki?

Yes! That is me. Come on, Henry.

I'm Azuolas.

That's what I said.

The doctor made some joke about how Azuolas must have to fight the young men away from Enlé, and she rolled her eyes and told him to tell her why she was here already. He chuckled at that. She did not smile.

Mrs. Lushki, have you had trouble walking?

All of the time, Doctor.

For how long?

Getting worse past two months.

For how long can you walk?

What you mean?

One city block?

I walk short distance with help.

That doesn't tell me how long you can walk.

A look askance.

One half-block. Short side, Doctor. Twenty-five meter. Maybe you like imperial.

He smiled disconnectedly. That won't be necessary.

He gestured to a quadrant on a monitor. These areas should not be this dense.

What you mean? The bones are clear! I look in the light and they clear.

The muscle, Mrs. Lushki. Let me see your hands.

He held one beneath the examination light. He turned her delicate fingers past the point when aches began to shoot through her wrists and fingertips.

Fascinating, he remarked to himself.

Please stop, Doctor. This hurt me.

He looked closer, switching his grip to her palms. He turned her wrists more deeply.

She yelped in pain. He peered closer into the light. She could feel her bones bend.

You're hurting her, Dr. Curry. Stop it.

Dr. Curry's nose was practically touching Enlé's skin.

Ptoo! Something clattered across the floor. Dr. Curry didn't look away.

A searing pain shot through his left forearm. A crunch. He dropped the hands.

AGH!

Something gripped his right wrist--a teal blur.

You're pulling my--

A tortured snarl and wail. Three dull cracks and many smaller pops. A growl and another ptoo.

Kodėl, po velnių, tu tai darai, mama?

AŠ BUVAU ALKANAS.

You bit my finger off, bitch!

Doctor Kurveh! You hurt me. This bite was incidental.

After transferring Enlé to the psychiatric wing for a night, an oral surgeon confirmed that Enlé's teeth, after falling out from malnutrition after the camp long ago, had somehow come back.

Not only that, but the enamel showed some irregularity.

Explain, Enlé said. She stared down her nose in her yellow grippy socks.

The doctor shrugged so emphatically her clipboard flew into the air.

Those teeth are yours, though.

I know. I grow these.

How long did it take?

Two months.

Did it hurt?

Ya. It hurt pretty bad.

We're ordering more imaging, okay?

Do whatta whatta, my love. I do not care.

They were then joined by a pale, gangly boy in Carhartt and a stout black man in a lab coat.

Do I need to hide my fingers? Dr Danladi asked.

A look askance.

He joined them behind his back. I'm Danladi, a cardiothoracic radiologist. This is my new friend Hirnyk; he's a mineralogist we borrowed from Earth and Planetary.

This mean nothing to me.

Hirnyk's big teeth shone.

You know, you a nice-looking young man, Hirnyk. I would say come meet my oldest granddaughter. You not her type, though. She into guy who write song and paint and cry about it.

Hirnyk chuckled. It was musical. His icy eyes sparkled.

So what is my bone, child.

This specimen was an organic polymer.

I don't know what this means.

Hirnyk's eyes flew to hers. They softened.

It isn't what the bone is meant to be made of. Not at all. And there are inclusions.

Inclusions of what?

A long silence. Their eyes remained fixed.

Insects.

Another pause. His brows knitted a little.

Extinct beetles.

Enlé laughed. You pulling my leg, boy.

Silence.

In Lithuania, we say you hang pasta on my ear. She dangled noodle fingertips at her temples.

Hirnyk finally blinked. And it's been altered by geological processes.

Enlé's jaw dropped. I need stay in American school longer than get GED.

Hirnyk approached Enlé and gingerly took her hand in his hands. He examined it like it was precious, drawing the backs of his fingertips down the side of her wrist to her bracelet.

This is amber.

I know it is.

Amber is old tree sap--

Boy! I know what is amber stone. Her lips tightened.

Hirnyk smiled and lowered Elné's hand back into her lap. Your bones are somehow also made of this.

They both gazed reverently at her glowing hands. Pretty, Hirnyk said. Enlé looked into Hirnyk's eyes, and they saw one another.

We got the enamel results! The door slammed open. It was the oral surgeon.

Look at this, Petro. Each tooth's enamel is diamond. This is freakish.

Enlé threw her head back with laughter. It match rest of body.

She leaned back on the exam table.

Po perkūnais.

It match rest of body.