The Language Inside (62 page)

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Authors: Holly Thompson

BOOK: The Language Inside
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I climb into the front seat

then shriek and bump my head

at the sound of two voices

saying
hi
from the back—

Lena and Van

bundled in winter jackets

sorry, I had to bring them
Samnang says

oh
I say, taken aback

rubbing my head

it’s fine, but . . . 

I tell Samnang to wait a minute

and run back inside

grab some origami paper

and in the car I send some sheets

and a little instruction booklet

to Lena and Van in the backseat

and up front start to fold

a crane, a frog, a cicada

 

guys, we’re going on a mystery ride

Samnang announces

to find something

golden treasure?
Van asks

water
says Samnang

the kids frown

the beach?
Lena asks

maybe . . . 

but I didn’t bring my bathing suit!
Van whines

it’s too cold anyway
Lena says

and Van scowls

shrinks down in his seat

until I toss him a frog

and its companion

cicada

 

on the back of a piece of origami paper

Samnang has scrawled

               
495 95 113 1A

               
left

               
bridge

               
right

               
refuge

he says
hold this, in case I get lost

soon we’re out of YiaYia’s neighborhood

and on the highway

but Samnang won’t tell me

where we’re going

mystery
he says

water

 

when we exit

I realize we’re in Newburyport

with all those big historic houses

then we turn left and suddenly

we see the mouth of the river

the one that also flows through Lowell

               and YiaYia’s town

and Lena is calling out sights—

               boats in the inlet

               a tiny airfield with planes

               a bridge we cross

 

signs say
Plum Island

and I vaguely recall

a day at the beach

one summer way back

with YiaYia and Papou

making a sand castle

all of us wearing long sleeves

long pants

hats

against the flies

I think I’ve been here
I tell Samnang

the dance troupe had a beach day here

last summer
he says

Serey helped organize it

 

at the entrance to the wildlife refuge

I pay the fee

since this outing was my idea

then Samnang parks in a lot

and we all pile out, pulling on gloves

wrapping scarves, zipping up

against the cold wind

Samnang lifts Van to his shoulders

and we walk up a boardwalk

through the grasses

and crest a dune

 

and suddenly we are perched

above a

not volcanic gray

but long creamy white

sand beach

at the edge

of the icy blue

Atlantic Ocean

for a moment I’m stalled

turning in both directions

holding back my whipping hair

running my tearing eyes

over and over

those far reaches of sand

and I’m thinking

as soon as she’s strong enough

I’ll bring my mother here

 

Van scrambles down

and he and Lena run toward the water

and when a wave breaks

they squeal and retreat to dry sand

Samnang takes my gloved hand

and I breathe deep the salt air

perfect
I say

good
he says

I figured it was my last chance

for what?

to give you a good reason to stay

I laugh

I already have plenty of reasons

but I’ll add this to the list

so your decision . . . 

 

I stop

and with my gloved hands

recessed in my jacket sleeves

turn him toward me

now who’s a dodo
I say

I’m staying the year, Samnang

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