Gathering of Pearls (4 page)

"Hello," they said in unison, before running toward the kitchen and shouting, "Dad, Dad, your student is here!"

"Great! Bring her over here into the kitchen. We can all have breakfast together before Mom and I leave." His familiar voice rang through the house.

Sarah and Jimmy rushed back and, staring at me as if I might vanish, escorted me to the kitchen without a word. They both studied my every step.

Hesitantly I asked, "How old are you, Jimmy?"

"Six and three-quarters."

"And you, Sarah?"

"Five. But I can do almost everything Jimmy can," she said, poking her brother in the ribs.

Jimmy seemed annoyed at this presumptuous remark, and raced ahead of us into the kitchen. Standing at the stove was Professor Bennett wearing a large red apron that said "Best Chef" in bold black letters. He waved us in with his spatula, and said, "Sookan, come on in. You can sample my cooking."

I could hardly believe my eyes! Never before had I seen a man cook or even enter a kitchen. Cooking was a woman's job. Mother was always in the kitchen alone, except when I kept her company. At mealtime, she and I always did the serving, and afterward, we always cleaned up. My brothers just sat at the table, and talked and laughed and ate.

Though tired and flushed from cooking, Mother never seemed happier than when she watched her sons gobble up all the food she had spent the day preparing. She would busily run back and forth between the living room and the kitchen to make sure they had as much as they wanted. I, on the other hand, derived no joy from this task. I knew I was doing my duty as a daughter and sister, but I. resented the fact that it was always Mother and me who had to do all the work.
Wouldn't it be wonderful if the men would serve us sometime?
I used to think to myself, knowing all too well that this was a fantasy. But now, right before me, was my very own professor slaving over his family's scrambled eggs. It seemed like a miracle to me.

I stood watching Professor Bennett as he turned over the bacon, then instinctively pivoted to catch the toast as it popped from the toaster. He skillfully buttered the bread and placed it before his children.

Mrs. Bennett appeared from upstairs and said, "Sookan, why are you still standing? Please, have a seat."

"Oh, I thought I should wait until you and Professor Bennett sat down," I said. It was rude to seat oneself before one's elders. And besides, I was too shocked at the sight of a man cooking to even think of sitting.

"Sookan, please sit down. Make yourself at home. Walt will serve us this morning. Every Saturday and Sunday, he gives me a break from kitchen duty." She smiled affectionately at her husband.

As we sat and ate, I confessed how surprised I was to see a man working in the kitchen, and how different things were in Korea.

Professor Bennett just smiled and said, "It's amazing how well you are doing in this strange land, Sookan, and how quickly you've adapted. It's hard to believe you have been here less than two months. Sarah, Jimmy, don't tire her out too much today." I blushed at his kind remarks.

The professor did the dishes while his wife finished getting dressed. The children and I stayed in the kitchen and helped him. How wonderful to all be in the kitchen, talking and cleaning up together. I kept thinking of my poor mother, who would never have such an experience.

After Professor and Mrs. Bennett left, Sarah brought out her favorite book,
Madeline,
and asked me to read it to her. Jimmy had taken out his train and was racing the wheels with his hand. The house was abuzz with the sound of the whizzing train.

As I read to Sarah about the twelve little girls who ate, brushed their teeth, and slept in two straight lines at their French convent school, Jimmy looked over my shoulder and began correcting my pronunciation. It must have been awful for them to hear the way I mispronounced things. Each time Jimmy corrected me, I reread the words and tried to imitate his pronunciation and intonation. He seemed pleased when my words sounded like his. Sometimes he made me repeat a phrase two or even three times. I followed his instruction and we made our way through
Madeline.
To my surprise, Sarah did not complain once. By the time we finished the book, Jimmy was seated by my side; he seemed delighted to be my teacher, and I appreciated his help. Only a child would correct every little sound and syllable so honestly and enthusiastically. I thanked Jimmy for correcting me, and he turned bright red, then disappeared into his room.

Sarah, who had been watching me intently as I read, said, "Your eyes are so black and tiny. Let's have an eye fight." She got up, stood directly in front of me, and began steadfastly glaring at me. I knew this game. We played it in Korea, too. I sat and stared back into her big brown eyes, and I tried not to blink. She was so serious, and wore such a stern expression for a little girl that I broke into laughter.

Sarah clapped with glee and said, "See, your eyes are too small to win the eye fight."

"No, no. It's not because they are small. It's because my eyes are tired from reading so many books and not going to sleep early enough," I said, feeling weary all of a sudden.

"Then close your eyes and sleep, and I'll comb your black hair. All my dolls have blond hair. Can I comb yours?"

I nodded, closed my eyes, and rested my head on the sofa, letting my hair fall over the back of it. Sarah's plastic comb soon got tangled up in my thick hair, and she tenaciously yanked and yanked to get it free. I tried to rest my eyes and let her play. I could hear Jimmy enjoying his electric train in the next room. After a while, I felt something sharp digging into my scalp. "Oh, Sarah, that hurts!"

"Look, I fixed your hair with pins and ribbons," she said with delight as she handed me a mirror. I had to laugh. She had made me look like a cartoon character from outer space. My hair was standing up in all directions, and was adorned with ribbons of every color.

She then began removing the pins, pulling my hair along with them. I heard myself scream, and Jimmy immediately ran over to us. "Sarah, I'm going to tell Daddy that you were mean to his student," he threatened. To me, he said, "You are too nice. Nobody lets her play with real hair. Not even Mommy."

Sarah pouted, and glared at Jimmy. I was sorry I had let out a scream and said, "Oh, it's all right, Jimmy. I said she could play with my hair. We will stop for now, though. Okay, Sarah?"

Then, to make Sarah laugh, I picked up her little hand and said, "Look how cute and small your hands are compared to my big ones!" I remembered how this used to amuse me when I was young.

Sarah put her hand against mine and we stretched our fingers as much as we could. I noticed how light and pink her skin was against mine. "I think God ran out of pink paint when he was making me, and used the yellow paint he had left over."

"No," she retorted, "that's not why. He is God. If he wanted to, he could have made more pink paint. He
wanted
to use yellow paint for your hand. It makes you special!"

Jimmy looked over at us and clearly thought this was ludicrous prattle. He made a face at his chatty little sister, and went back to racing his train around the living room.

When we finished lunch, the phone rang. It was Mrs. Bennett. She and her husband couldn't be back at three as they had planned. She asked me if I might stay with the children until the evening. She would drive me back to the dorm when they returned.

I, of course, said yes, but was concerned. I had so much studying to do, and I had promised myself that I would write a letter to my sister. I had already let too much time pass without writing to her, and I knew I was disappointing her.

Suddenly, I realized that Sarah and Jimmy were staring at me and looking worried. I smiled and said, "What would you like to do? Your parents will be late, but everything is okay."

"Oh, goodie. We can play some more," said Sarah. "Let's take a walk to the millhouse."

"Yeah, we can look for garden snakes," added Jimmy.

"Yuck! They're all hibernating anyway," said Sarah, as she stuck her tongue out at her brother.

We took a walk to the old stone millhouse, and peeked inside. The roof had blown off long ago, and all that stood were the walls. Tall grass was growing inside, and the building smelled damp and earthy. It looked like one of the old Roman ruins in my textbooks. We kept walking alongside the stream. Jimmy watched for garden snakes, while Sarah held my hand and helped me pick wildflowers. I felt comfortable with the two of them and decided not to think about school or anything else that I had to do.

We went back to the house, and played for the rest of the afternoon. I drew flowers and trees with Sarah, and snakes and bugs with Jimmy, and we made all sorts of cut-out decorations. It had been a happy, exhausting day for all of us.

After supper, the children finally got to sleep, and I tried to read the books I had brought with me. But my mind wandered. I thought of how much I had enjoyed playing with the children, and it made me uneasy to know that I was going to be paid for being with them. In Korea, we never got paid for watching the neighbors' children. It was just something we did without a second thought.

My schoolbag was bulging with books that needed to be read. But I wanted to do something special for the Bennetts. I looked around the house for ideas. I had already tidied up all the rooms. Then, I saw what I was looking for.

In the far comer of the house was a small greenhouse. Inside, the plants seemed terribly neglected. Dead leaves hung limply from some. Others seemed to be growing lopsided with abandon. Several were completely dead. Empty clay pots, bags of soil, and gardening tools cluttered the corners.

Before I started to work on the greenhouse, I went back to check on Jimmy and Sarah. They were both asleep, but I left their doors ajar so that I would be able to hear them if they woke. Then, I returned to the greenhouse, began to pick all the brown leaves off, cut the dead stems, and tie sticks to some of the plants to get them to stand straight. I watered everything, wiped down the leaves of each plant, transplanted some overgrown jade plants to bigger pots, and tidied up the room. I gathered all the cactuses on one side, placed all the African violets in front of the window, and put the big jade plants in the center. I had often watched Mother work in her greenhouse, so I felt comfortable here.

When I looked at my watch, I realized I had been in the greenhouse for several hours. I looked at my work, and was pleased. But suddenly, I began to worry that the professor and his wife might not have wanted me to touch their greenhouse. It hadn't even occurred to me before. When I saw the neglected garden, I just instinctively wanted to take care of the plants. I would have to tell them, and apologize for just plunging ahead without even asking. I would tell them as soon as they got home. I stood by the window, watching for their car, but after a while, decided to sit down and read.

Mrs. Bennett gently woke me at midnight and said that her husband would drive me home. I had missed curfew, but the professor would explain it to Sister Casey at Mass the next day. I grabbed my things together and rushed to the car.

The following Monday, when I returned to my dorm from the library, the receptionist at the front desk pointed to a long white box tied with a red velvet ribbon.

"Sookan, that's for you. It came this afternoon."

The box was marked "Valerie Florist." I said I would ■be back to get it after I dropped off my books. As I was heading up the stairs to my room, I ran into Ellen.

"Oh, Sookan, I was coming down to pick up your flowers. I wanted you to see the box waiting for you at reception, but they've been there all afternoon, and I was just about to give up on you. Wait here, and I'll get them and we can walk upstairs together."

Ellen beamed as she put the box down on my bed.

"Open them up! Let's see who they're from! Do you have an admirer that I don't know about?"

Marci, who must have heard Ellen and me talking as we walked down the corridor, poked her head into our room, and said, "What's this?"

When I untied the velvet bow and lifted off the top, I saw an enormous bunch of roses, white lilies, tiger lilies, tiny orchids, red and white carnations, and fluffy white chrysanthemums. They were beautiful and made the whole room smell of spring. Ellen immediately hunted for the little white envelope and said, "Hurry, read it."

The note said: "What a grand surprise to see our neglected greenhouse transformed into a lovely little garden. It seems that a special elf was at work. Thanks for everything on Saturday. The children learned so much from you and had so much fun. You must be a natural born teacher. They adore you and chose these flowers themselves. Hope you will have time to come again. Love, Jane."

A check was also enclosed for Saturday. Ellen looked disappointed that the flowers were from the Bennetts, but Marci was delighted and looked at me proudly. She then shook her head at Ellen, and ran out to the hall closet, shouting, "Let me see if I can find a big vase."

She came back with three small vases. "These won't do for those tall flowers," she said, looking disappointed.

"Oh, they'll be fine. I can use them all," I said. I made three arrangements and gave one to Marci for her room, one to Ellen for her dresser, and kept one for my desk.

As usual, the "lights out" bell rang all too quickly. Marci headed back to her room across the hallway, calling, "Good night."

"In the future, I expect you to receive flowers and chocolates from boys you meet at the Friday mixers," said Ellen, wagging her manicured index finger at me with a stern look.

I smiled and said, "Maybe I
will
show up at one of the mixers and surprise you. Good night, Ellen, and thanks for bringing up the flowers and always thinking of me." I drew in a deep breath of the deliciously fragrant air, picturing my stroll along the stream with Sarah and Jimmy.

It was quarter to five, and I was rushing to make it over to the dining hall. This semester, for scholarship work, I had been assigned to waitress the dinner shift from five to eight Sunday through Thursday. On these evenings, our school had formal, candle-lit dinners with a strict dress code. All the girls were required to wear dresses, high heels, and gloves.