Read The Language Inside Online
Authors: Holly Thompson
Samnang sighs
shakes his head
my mom wishes it
and Serey and I sometimes fake it
because Serey has a boyfriend
from the community college
that her parents don’t know about
so it helps her get out of the house
if she goes with me
and now I’m totally baffled
you fake it? you pretend you’re together?
he nods
do Beth and Chris know you aren’t?
he tilts his head
I don’t know
what about the other dancers?
Samnang says
oh, they know Serey has a boyfriend
and it’s not me
we come to YiaYia’s street
and Samnang stops at the corner
then doesn’t proceed—
he’s looking at me
you’re going back to Japan, right?
I nod
January, right?
that’s what your grandmother said
the day you had the migraine
I try to read the meaning in his eyes
lit by dashboard and street light
I think we’ll be here the full year
my parents don’t say anything
about January anymore
Samnang says
you want to go back?
and I say
well, yeah, that’s my home
and after the earthquake and tsunami
I just feel like I should be there helping out
like it’s wrong to be here
I tell him about Madoka’s aunt
just found
and her cousins
and their destroyed schools
I’d be more useful in Japan
I say
I hear you
he says
then shifts in his seat
well, tell your mother and everyone
hello and I hope she recovers fast
and it’s not till after I get out of the car, wave
and he’s driven off that it occurs to me
when he asked if I want to go back
there was another way
I could have answered
like I derailed a conversation
that could have been
Mom is able to walk a bit
the next day
and after school
I help her take small steps
up the sidewalk
as far as the stop sign
then back again
down the street
on the other side
after that
she’s exhausted
but it’s warm enough
for her to sit on a lawn chair
wrapped in a blanket
with a cup of hot
yuzu
tea
bathing in the afternoon sun
before it starts to drop
I sit with her
but she doesn’t let me stay still for long
insisting that since she can’t work I should
she makes me grab a rake from the garage
and rake leaves into piles for YiaYia
which I do
but Mom tells me I don’t rake right
don’t put enough strength into it
don’t know what I’m doing
which is true
well, duh, I want to say
I was raised in Japan with yards
so small we picked the leaves out by hand
but I don’t
I’m sweating
shedding layer after layer
scarf, jacket, sweatshirt
as I make a huge pile of leaves
beside her chair
so she can smell them
and reach down
to touch them
the colors are more intense
in Vermont
she says
and I wish we could see Vermont
before the leaves drop
before the snow
a little later she gets chilled
I help her inside, get her set up on the bed again
then find Dad who shows me how to rake the leaves
onto an old sheet and carry the bundle
over my shoulder to a compost pile
Dad is here till the weekend
Gram and Gramps staying nearby
cousins and old friends
of Mom’s and Dad’s drop by
and YiaYia’s house is full of traffic
our meals noisy
though Mom is often
too exhausted to join us
there is not much time
to think of poems
or even scribble
in my journal
but sometimes like a meteor
a streak of thought
or a poem line
shoots through my head
but by the time I open
my journal
late at night
it’s vanished
when I see Samnang at school
I try to stop to talk
say more than
hey
even though there isn’t time
between classes
for much more than
hey
I ask him about the school dance club
if he’s friends with anyone in it
if he knows Tracy or Claire or the two guys
but although he danced with some of them once
he doesn’t know anyone well
we make plans to have pizza
after our work at the Newall Center
on Wednesday