Heartbeat

“Am I supposed to do something / important? / It doesn’t seem enough / to merely take up space / on this planet / in this country / in this state / in this town / in this family.”

In reflecting on what she would like to do when she gets older, Annie questions her role in all the complex systems in which she exists. Her list of those systems grows smaller and more person, creating a building sense of intimacy and urgency.

“and when I look at my own list / of fears and loves / they seem too big / maybe not what the teacher had in mind”

After completing an assignment about what she fears and loves, Annie questions whether her answers fit the prompt. By imagining things that were “too big,” she also questions if she is alone in feeling this way among her peers. Her fears range from war to death to disappearing, revealing her maturity compared to her classmates.

“And what did I think / when I was small / and why did I forget? / And what else will I forget / when I grow older? / And if you forget / is it as if / it never happened?”

After her grandfather forgets how to make his own fried chicken recipe, Annie realizes that the impermanence of memory is a theme present throughout life. She connects the memory loss of a fetus to that of her aging grandfather, two people on opposite ends of their lifespan.

“and then he tells me / again / for the nine millionth time / that I should join the girls’ team / that I am stupid not to / and what am I afraid of / and I tell him I am not afraid / I do not want to join the team / I like to run by myself / or with Max”

Unlike most dialogue in the poems, Annie and Max’s exchange is not italicized. This implies that the conversation has happened between them before, emphasized by the hyperbole of it happening for the “nine millionth time,” and that Annie finds the conversation tedious and frustrating.

“I dreamed of running past the barn / and in my head I saw a footnote / which said / Faded red barn / […] / and on like that / footnotes for every little thing / and when I stopped at the red bench / and looked at the soles of my feet / all the little notes were printed there / in charcoal pencil / and somehow it pleased me / that the notes were there / imprinted on my feet— / footnotes.”

After learning about footnotes in class, Annie becomes fascinated by their use and by the vivid imagery of their name. She even dreams that the places she passes on her run have footnotes that are imprinted on her feet. Beyond the obvious association with the word “footnote” itself, the dream indicates Annie’s search for clarity through running. Footnotes begin appearing in the poems that make up the book from this point onward, illustrating Annie’s curiosity and changing style of narration.

“I thought about the apple / and thought about it / and thought about it / and when I got home / I drew apple number one. / It looked like an apple / which is the best I can say / for it. / It seemed a bit stiff / too much like a drawing of an apple / with none of the feeling of an apple.”

In drawing the first apple for her art assignment, Annie describes thoughtfully what disappoints her about the finished product. The repetitive style of Annie’s narration is displayed here, with the frequent appearance of the word “apple” indicating her intense thinking on the idea of the apple itself. Her brief criticism of her drawing is both humorous and intelligent, like many of Annie’s observations throughout the book.

“the sound of a real heart / a baby heart / beating beating beating / a-whoosh-a-whoosh-a-whoosh / as our little baby rushes on / and I feel as if / this is my team / my mother and father and me / and the baby / a-whoosh-a-whoosh-a-whoosh”

Previously described as a “thump-thump” sound, Annie is surprised to hear that the heartbeat of the baby on the ultrasound is a “woosh” sound instead. While she often connects the sound of her footsteps to the beat of her heart, the baby’s unique heartbeat “rushes.” After imagining the baby this way, Annie sees that the baby is “real” and her family is her “team,” racing together.

“No one gets to run her heart out / no one runs barefoot / no one smiles. / No one can let her head go free. / And someone must win / and someone must lose / and always the winner looks proud / and the loser looks forlorn / and I can’t understand why they all / would spoil / such a good thing / as running”

Though she does not verbalize her reasons for not joining track to the coach, Annie elaborates internally on why she is so opposed. As is often the case in her narration, she expresses herself in run-on sentences with excessive use of words like “and,” creating the sense that she is articulating her thoughts as they come organically. Though she speaks about “no one” and “someone,” she is clearly talking about her own personal relationship with running and its value.

“On through the pages we go / witnessing their lives / flip, flip, flip / fast-forwarding through / my mother as a child / flip, flip, flip / until there’s me / in Grandpa’s arms / newly born / and Grandma is there, too. / They are smiling at me / as if I am a miracle baby. / Flip, flip, flip / I grow up / Grandma is gone / Grandpa’s hair turns gray. / Flip, flip, flip.”

Throughout the book, Annie finds herself struggling to understand the changes, physical and emotional, that time brings. Looking through her grandfather’s photos, the repeated refrain of “flip, flip, flip,” pushes her through the photo album and through a visual record of her grandfather’s life. In these photos, she also sees versions of her mother and herself from the past. The intricate and reciprocal connections between families is a key aspect of life explored by Annie.

“I examine the soles of my feet / wishing there were words there / magic words to say to Max / but there is only dirt on my feet / and one lone pebble.”

When Max is in a difficult mood, Annie often struggles with how to communicate with him. Her examination of her feet is both a display of her awkwardness in the situation and an allusion to her earlier dream of footnotes drawn on her feet.

“My father cleared his throat / and tried to smile / because I think he really wants to be there / and to be a good husband and father / but he feels a little queasy about it, too / and me, I am so proud that I can be there / it makes me feel grown up / but I am also a little queasy”

Annie rarely mentions her father in her narration, though their relationship is positive. When he is mentioned, as above, it is often in a moment where he shows concern, excitement and doubt about the pregnancy, feelings that Annie increasingly shares as she feels she is becoming “grown up” like him.

“I get an idea: / I will draw the apple / with a bite out of it / and then I will draw the apple / with two bites out of it / and on and on / a diminishing apple / vanishing / […] / and something else I know instantly: / that I will not need to look at the apple— / that I can draw / the apple that’s in my mind.”

After her grandfather takes a bite of her apple, Annie comes to the realization that she can draw the apple diminishing. This recalls her own experience moving through her grandfather’s photo album and seeing him age (94). She also acknowledges that she can imagine the apple, touching on the central theme of memory.

“…I slug him hard / and turn and fly for home / fast and faster and fastest / and all the way / I am apologizing / to the air / to the sky / for not wanting / to waste a gift / but knowing / that I am right / and knowing / that I do not like / to be wrong / which is probably / a serious character flaw.”

After she hits Max for commenting on how fast she is running, Annie turns home in an agitated state. The lines of verse shorten, creating a sense of fast pace and stress. It becomes clear that Annie is not just disinterested in the idea of joining the track team but is concerned with what that says about her as an individual.

“I do not like to see my grandpa like this. / Always he was so busy / so wise / so comforting. / Always he was the grandpa / the one who knew everything / the one who would laugh with me / and run with me.”

After Annie must comfort her grandfather when he imagines that an old photo of him as a boy is terrorizing him, she struggles to deal with his increasing vulnerability. As she lists out what he “always” was, she is realizing that which he no longer is. When she comforts her grandpa, the role reversal is a key moment in Annie understanding her role in the new and changing dynamic of her family.

“You going to be there? / he asks. / I stumble, trip / surprised by his question / by the intensity in his voice / as if it matters to him / that I be at the race.”

Max, presented through Annie’s perspective, is difficult to understand. Only in his brief moments of direct dialogue does Annie gain insight into his thinking. Although Annie considers Max a close friend, the expectation that she would be at his track meet is surprising to her. Often, Annie’s running both facilitates and symbolizes her thinking process. When she trips and stumbles, there is a double meaning; both her feet and her mind are caught off guard.

“For a moment, I am frozen again / unable to move / watching Max overtake one runner / and another / and another / and I see the winner / cross the finish line / and it is not Max.”

As Annie watches Max in his race, the lines of verse match his action. Each line pushes him further in the race, creating a sense of movement through composition. When Max does not win, Annie’s phrasing betrays her focus. She has never been interested in the idea of winning or losing at running, and so at the conclusion of the race, Annie sees the only conclusion that matters to her: The winner is not Max.

“I think of all the mothers / all over the world / and all the babies / and I was one of those babies / and this is my mother / and maybe this will be me one day / breathing in, breathing out.”

When Annie’s mother goes into labor, Annie finds a new closeness with her, the baby, and the world. As Annie imagines the process of giving birth happening everywhere, she closely mimics a thought she had at eight years old: “mother of the world” (38). The inhale and exhale of labor mirrors the cycle of birth and motherhood into which Annie feels suddenly integrated.

“…I feel infinitely happy / that this miracle baby / has come to us / and infinitely / infinitely / infinitely / sad / that my grandpa / does not have a whole / long / life / ahead / of / him.”

Annie’s life over the period of her mother’s pregnancy is punctuated by her struggle to reckon with a new life beginning and an old life ending. Her grandpa and her new sibling both are infinite in their importance to her, but her grandpa’s life is seeming increasingly finite. As Annie expresses her sadness about his eventual death, the lines of verse get shorter, creating the image of an extended line that comes to an end. Her thoughts are broken into as many lines as possible, building both emphasis and a sense of her desire to avoid the conclusion.

“Outside, Max says that Grandpa / gave him a gift / and told him a secret about running. / He opens the box and shows me the gift: / Grandpa’s running shoes / sixty years old.”

After Max speaks with Annie’s grandpa, he is obviously calmer and even positive. Max’s grandpa died when he was younger, and his father left his family. Annie acknowledges these events and has noticed that they changed Max, but after this interaction between Max and her grandfather, it is clear that Max has needed guidance and missed that figure in his life.

“Baby Joey wakes, squirms, cries / and Grandpa whispers to him: / Run for the pleasure of running. / It’s a secret, baby.”

Though he originally shared the “secret” with Max, Annie’s grandpa now repeats it to his infant grandchild. In doing so, he articulates Annie’s feelings—and his own—about running that she has struggled to describe and defend. This moment is particularly poignant as her grandfather, at the end of his life, imparts wisdom to her baby brother, at the beginning of his life.

“and I think it odd / but right / that this is the way we talk / run run run / thump-thump, thump-thump.”

After Annie brings up the anonymous gift of art supplies she received, Max does not acknowledge that he was the one who sent it. Instead of showing frustration at their struggles to understand each other, as she often does, Annie accepts that this is how they communicate: through running, and living, by each other’s side.

“because I do like Max / all of Max / even the moods and the pestering / but I am not ready / yet / to think of him / the way the other girls / are thinking of him / and I want him to stay Max / my same moody Max / and I want him to run with me / for a little longer.”

When Annie is asked if she has romantic feelings for Max, she reflects on how much she cares about him. When she concludes that she wants him to “stay” the “same” Max, she acknowledges both that she likes their relationship as it is and that he is a constant that she wants to remain in her rapidly changing life.

“Grandpa reaches the ninety-ninth apple: / a slim core / eaten away / a narrow indented column / with a dignified but bent stem / and pale flesh / browning at the edges.”

After the completion of the one hundred apple drawings, Annie and her grandpa look through the pictures together. When her grandpa stops at the 99th drawing, it is described as “dignified,” “bent” and “pale.” The apple is at its final stage of its existence, and just as it is bent, yet dignified, so is Annie’s grandfather. As “grandpa reaches the ninety-ninth apple,” they represent each other.