Orchards (6 page)

and how to make a viewer

for seeing underwater

          damselfish

          anemones

          sea slugs

          crabs

along the shore beyond the pier

when I didn’t have a mask and snorkel

and that was when I began

to understand

there are at least

two sides to any story

that Jiichan had been mean

because he hurt

that he blamed

because he grieved

for a daughter

leaving

fault and blame—

both seem so easy to place

but much harder

maybe

to erase

I think

there must be at least

two sides

to your story, too, Ruth,

and maybe knowing

more of Lisa’s side

how she lived with

her godparents

not her parents

who were I don’t know where

might help explain

why she was so mean

to you

and why we all

followed

her lead

D
usk one evening

my Kohama second cousin

Asuka

high school student

calls on us

proper, like

phone call first

formal front-door visit

with summer gift presented to Uncle

who hands it to Baachan

who places it before the Buddhist altar

for Jiichan and the ancestors

by now I know the routine

and rise to do my part to

serve cold barley tea

chilled fruit

and small cakes

after which I

sit at the edge

of conversation

Asuka turns to me and says

do you remember me?

but I don’t

until she says

you stayed with us

when you were little!

and then I remember

the girl cousin who went off to school

while Emi and I stayed

at the house or followed

our mother on visits or errands

around the village

Asuka would return

in the afternoons

with homework

she’d do kneeling at a low table

and I would sit beside her

waiting

watching her make pencil strokes

in columns of
kanji
boxes

and sometimes

she would let me write

in her drill book

I stare at her

and finally

when she laughs

at my puzzlement

I see a resemblance to

the Asuka back then

but now Asuka

gets to the point

of her visit tonight

and invites me

to join her

and some friends

on the Marine Day

long weekend—

day trip to Tokyo

Baachan scowls

frets the cost

clucks and starts to lecture

I’m ready to protest

but under the table

Aunt holds my wrist

then speaks up

to assure Baachan

that I have my own funds for travel

that I will be chaperoned by Asuka

and, besides, I will benefit

from a day trip to the capital

visited only once

with my family

when Emi was small enough

to be carried

on my father’s shoulders

a photo album

that Aunt pulls

from a shelf

provides proof

and finally

as we laugh at snapshots of all of us

much much younger

Baachan says

she supposes

I can go

Asuka claps

and winks

at me

I like Asuka

her smooth and

natural manners

the way she addresses

Baachan with deference

but includes me with

smiling eyes

she’s two years older

but makes me feel

at ease

makes me feel

I can just be me

for a change

and that maybe with her

I will stop thinking

of you

the Marine Day long weekend

marks the end of the school term

end of my four weeks

at the middle school

and I’m not sorry to say good-bye

          to friends I never made

          classes I couldn’t always follow

          conversations about TV shows I don’t know

          borrowed textbooks

          sailor uniform

                 white kneesocks

                        
uwabaki
indoor shoes

not sorry, that is, until

students in my homeroom throw

a surprise farewell party

sing songs for me

present me with a class photo

and a basket full of origami

          birds, cicadas

                 frogs, flowers, hearts

                        and Pokémon characters

plus a placard signed

with all their names

they tell me not to forget them

set out mini donuts they decorated

chips, cookies and drinks they bought

with their own spending money

one girl cries

and even outcast girl

hangs around

and in the end

hands me a present—

a cell phone strap with a tiny

mikan

charm

F
rom then on I work full days on the farm—

up at six

in the groves by eight

break before noon

down to the house for lunch

up to the groves by one

          or two if the heat’s too high

done by five

we use shears to snip

the fruit, now large

as Ping-Pong balls

my arms no longer ache

my back and shoulders

feel strong

but the day is long

and when conversation stops

among the leaves

and it’s just the breathing

of wind in trees

and the
mee-mee-mee-meeen

of cicadas

there is much

too much

time

for my thoughts

and moments when I have to pause

catch my breath

hold on to a branch

and not because I’m tired

or lost my balance

but because I’m seeing you, Ruth,

alone

in Osgoods’ orchard

setting down your pack

having chosen

your tree

everyone knows

Lisa didn’t mean it

everyone knows

when a person says

certain things

they don’t mean

the words

they say

really

in the note you left

for your parents

and brother

you said

life was too hard

they could never know

what it was like

for you

at school

where you were ostracized

                      left out

                      despised

and where

just that day

in front of all us girls

after Jake handed you

a piece of paper

Lisa had given you

a look

and said

I hope you die

I saw you glare

at Lisa

hard, I thought

mean, I thought

bitch
we all said

hurt, I now realize

as you crumpled that note into a

tiny ball

that was still

in your jeans pocket

when you were found

in Osgoods’ orchard

here in Kohama

under the
mikan
trees

sometimes I see you

over there

among the apple trees

and I think how

after the graveside service

as we left the cemetery

Jake’s mom told my mom

and Gina’s mom

that you once told Jake

you loved orchards

the rhythm of the year

in sap, leaves, buds, fruit

the cycle of growth and rest

growth and rest

and how Gina and I then shared looks

and wondered

just how often you’d been there

with him

and wondered

what else we hadn’t known

about Jake

          and you

                 and trees

she said you’d visit on your way home

from piano lessons

that you

and Jake

had a

rapport

now in my too much time

in the groves

I think maybe

I ought to write to Jake

email him

not to press him for more

background

or information

or understanding

or to draw him out

but to tell him

thank you

for giving you

that

at least—

rapport