The Language Inside (20 page)

Van, my little brother, is seven

my sister Lena’s ten

there’s more
he says

Sam continues

my dad was kind of a mess

so I came back to Lowell

moved in with my mom and stepfather

but their apartment’s ultra-small

and I had to sleep in the living room

because Lena and Van had the other bedroom

so I stayed out a lot

messed up in school, drank a lot

made my stepfather mad

and my mother didn’t know what to do

and it all just made me and them crazy

so finally I ran away

stayed with the older brother of a friend

and eventually I called Chris

and he came and got me

that was three years ago

it was supposed to be just temporary
he says

but after a while everyone just

agreed to let me live there

with Chris and Beth

it’s better
he adds

and looks down

I don’t drink at their house

never have

so it’s not a temptation

I sit motionless

thinking through all he just said

Sam finishes his second slice

and picks up our paper plates

do you see your mom a lot? and stepfather?
I ask

most weekends
he says

as he stands and tosses our plates

into the trash

your father?

hardly ever
he says

it’s not good for me to be around him

I go to AA

but he still drinks

then I’m not sure

if I should

but I ask

did your Mom live in Cambodia

during Pol Pot?

and he sits down again and says

when the Khmer Rouge took power

she was four

her father and oldest brother

were killed the first year

then a little sister and a brother died—

from sickness, malnutrition

and her mother was taken away . . . 

then my mom and her older sister and brother

were separated

but found each other

and finally made it to a border camp

they got out in ’81

when she was ten

I think of the film

of Dith Pran laboring in the mud

starving so much he ate lizards

nearly killed again and again

finally making his way to the Thai border

she must be incredibly strong to have survived
I whisper

and lucky

but he says

strong, weak

lucky, unlucky

who knows

and looks away

then we hear a honk

and through the window see

Chris has pulled into the parking lot

so we pick up our bags

and step outside into the cold

but Chris gets out of the car

walks around to the passenger side

and Sam climbs into the driver’s side

what . . . ?
I say

as I climb in

I’m driving
Sam says

I stare at him

why not? I’m seventeen

and in a week I’ll have had

my license six months

then I can drive friends

without this guy tagging along

and Sam pokes Chris in the arm

I suck in my breath

buckle my seat belt

Sam backs out slowly

pulls onto the main road

and starts to drive

with Chris giving advice

every other second

for which I’m grateful

because it seems too weird

to be in a car driven by someone

practically my age

in the dark

in rain

that makes the road

hard to see

in Japan

you can’t get your license

till you’re eighteen

I say

good rule!
Chris says

how old are you?

Sam asks in the rearview mirror

when we stop at a light

sixteen?

in January
I say

then at the next light he says

so . . . you get your permit in January

take driver’s ed in the spring

and get your license in July

I nod at his eyes in the mirror

if I’m still here
I say