Evidently he had been pondering the question. Maybe he had glanced at the back wall where our classroom expectations are posted — where they are cautioned to speak as if Nani is in the room.
“Mister,” he said, motioning me to come over to their table. “Mister, is your grandmother’s spirit really in the room?”
I smiled.
“Oh no,” I said.
“It’s not that her spirit is in the room. Nani is in the room. Every day, back there.” I pointed to the bookcases in the far corner.
The boys instantly turned to look. Then they turned back with confused looks on their faces.
“Every day,” I said with my open hand on my chest. “Every day I think of her. So yes, my grandmother’s spirit is very much in this room.”