Orchards (15 page)

meaning a summer

after what you did

with the rope

in Osgoods’ orchard

I say to Baachan

but I was sent away, too

to another country

far from home

and Baachan looks at me

like I’m truly twisted

says

far from home?

what are you saying?

you came home, Kana-chan
,

you came home to family

T
hat afternoon

I start work again

in the groves

thinning

and solving problems

with Koichi

in the mountain air

above the bay

and some
mikan

in the lowest groves

are just turning color

the stubborn green

finally going yellow

we take a day off

during my last week

all six of us

and drive the van

up the Shonan coast

to Kamakura

to visit the

Big Buddha

where I light incense

and for once

know what to say

when I pray

which is for you

and Lisa both

to find peace

then two days before

my flight home

there is a surprise

a farewell dinner

for me

at Asuka’s house

sliding doors have been removed

in several rooms

to make a long hall

for two rows

of low tables

with men down the farthest ends

and women toward the entrance

sitting and rising and going

back and forth and

in and out of the kitchen

there are heaps of food

and bottles of drinks

brought by cousins

and second cousins

and aunts and uncles

and people from the village

and a few from beyond

and Asuka and Rika and Ai

and even a few girls

from my class at the

middle school

everyone spilling out into

side rooms

the entryway

the driveway even

on cue from Yurie

I take bottles

of beer and sake and

oolong tea and juice

and go from person to person

pouring into their glasses

speaking my thanks

bowing

smiling

chatting

whether I remember

who

they are

or not

and they start to talk

about my mother

and my father

and someone says that

it is time for them

to visit

and someone else says

that a party with them

would be good

but I mention that

with my mother’s business

winter is better

since it’s difficult

for her to leave in summer

and suddenly they ask

if I will be back

next summer

the room goes quiet

I hadn’t thought

about that

I look toward Uncle then

because I know that such respect

is what’s expected

and I look at Aunt

and Baachan

and Koichi

and Yurie

and they, too

are waiting

I bow

and say

if they will have me

then add

and if they will have Emi, too

some handkerchiefs come out

and there are cheers

and Asuka and Rika and Ai rush

to pour more drinks

and then the men

joke that Uncle’s fall harvest

will be bigger next year

with all that extra summer help

that they will have to work hard

to keep up and will have to see

what relatives they can get

to come help, too

T
hen I’m back

in New York

in my room with Emi

talking about the groves

and missing the scent

of
mikan
on my hands

wishing I could have stayed

a few more weeks

for the start of the fall harvest

just to see those mountain slopes

with row after terraced row of trees

with
mikan
all turned orange

the day after I arrive

I go see Jake

riding my bike up

the hill you climbed

alone that night

his mom hugs me

in the driveway

then shakes her head

and gives me a deep look

and I know

he’s been having a hard time

he and I

sit on wicker chairs

on their porch

but neither of us

speaks

can we walk?
I finally ask

he nods

and we go down the steps

after we’ve walked

away from their house

along the road that continues uphill

and that has hardly any traffic

ever

I stop on the rough edge of the asphalt

turn to him and am about to say

that I’m sorry and more

but Jake warns

don’t

he glares then looks off, way off

to where the road dips

and beyond where a hill rises

to a wooded dome

he eyes me

his look hard, steely

then softer

pained

can I ask a favor?
I finally ask

he waits, suspicious

and I almost don’t ask

but I do

the tree …

can I see it?

he seems to inflate with anger

and I think he’s going to send me away

as he exhales and inhales

like a squall

I wait

for the weather in his eyes

to shift

when it finally does

he leads me back down the road

up their driveway

behind their house

and into the orchard

we walk down

the central rutted road

ahead of me Jake

dragging his feet

kicking up dust

when he turns left into a row

I pause

follow again

and stop when he stops

at the third tree

he exhales

then raises his arm

and points upward

I follow with my eyes

and can’t help

but cry out

because somehow, Ruth,

I’d pictured

a branch still

spring-bare

and nearly empty

but the branch

Jake points to

is full

heavy

drooping with

the most stunning

abundance

of ripe apples

Jake and I sit down beneath

that abundance and

for a long time we don’t talk

when I do finally speak

I tell Jake that

later this month

we will visit

our cousins for Rosh Hashanah

and join the Tashlich walk

along the river

as we do each year

to focus on the past year

casting crumbs of bread

symbolizing our sins, our mistakes

into the water

and I say I will have to cast a whole

loaf of bread

or several

to equal enough crumbs

for all my mistakes

this past year

he nods

then says

I’d need a loaf, too

no
, I say

not you

there’s just one important crumb

you need to cast

which one’s that?
he asks

and I say

the one for blaming yourself

T
wo days later is

the memorial service

for Lisa, delayed so all of us

who’ve been away can attend

and where your mother

gives a moving speech to us all

has us hold hands, Ruth,

until everyone in the chapel

is connected

in one big

tangled chain

she begs us

each link

in that community chain

to make a pact to do

what you can’t do

what Lisa can’t do

anymore—

which is

live

then when she speaks of her idea to create

a memorial among some trees

in a section of orchard

that Jake’s family has offered to

donate