The Language Inside (3 page)

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Authors: Holly Thompson

BOOK: The Language Inside
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then I close my eyes

and let myself be driven off

to who knows where

by two guys—

               one I’ve just met

               one I don’t know

               at all

 

when the car stops

               doors open

close

               open

close

the crescent of triangles

               pulses

               pulses

               pulses

my arm’s numb

half my face, too

my head bowling-ball heavy

I hear talk

outside the window

hear the driver say
sleep

then it’s quiet

and I do

 

when I wake

it’s dusk

I lie not moving

on the car seat

turn onto my back

and wait

sit up

wait

testing my head

my vision

 

the car has been pulled

into YiaYia’s driveway

her back porch light is on

when I’m sure the worst

is really over

I get out

walk gingerly to the house

taking soft

               unjarring

                         steps

 

from the porch I can see

my grandmother, the man and Sam

all seated in the living room around

the coffee table with emptied glasses

and a plate of rice cracker packets

that my father brought for Toby and me

his last visit from New York

at the kitchen sink

I rinse my mouth

wash my face

with paper towels

then join them

easing slowly into

one of YiaYia’s armchairs

I’m Emma
I say

resting my head

solidly on the chairback

nice to meet you

and everyone laughs

 

the man, Chris

Sam Nang’s uncle

stands, says his wife

gets migraines, too

you taking anything for them?
he asks

and I tell him the name of the pills

YiaYia’s doctor gave me for

whenever the blindness hits

same as Beth
he says

but I threw them up
I say

that you did
he says

and he and Sam smile

talk to Beth sometime
Chris says

she’ll tell you ways to avoid attacks—

sleep patterns, exercise . . . 

it’s good you slept

that’s best

 

soon they’re leaving

but I can’t rise from where

I’m curled in the armchair

my head all aching and fuzzy

and full of the afterwards

but now that I’m not half blind

I can see that Chris’s clothes are

spattered with paint and stain

and I can see that Sam is

               lean

               muscled

               and Asian

but Chris is not

 

I’m curious

but say nothing

remembering those girls

in the first meeting for Model UN

how when I asked

               
anyone here speak Japanese?

one rolled her eyes and said

               
Asian doesn’t mean Japanese, you know

and when I tried to say

               
of course not, I know that

               
I’m from Japan, is all . . .

another girl looked me up and down and said

               
yeah, sure, white girl

then a guy across the room whispered

               
Japan—I
thought
she was glowing!

and everyone laughed

 

YiaYia walks Chris and Sam to the door

thanks them, returns, says

well, never a dull moment!

as she lays a fleece blanket over me

I come home to drop the groceries off

before going to the Newall Center to pick you up

and I find those two lounging on the porch steps—

I thought they’d broken in!

turns out they’d been sitting there

over an hour

they seem nice
I say

yes
she says

definitely your angels for today

I think I saw the boy

at the Newall Center once or twice

when I was there for your Papou

I ask

have you heard from Mom and Dad?

did Mom call?

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