Orchards (9 page)

and even when Baachan comes in

tugs the earbuds out of my ears

tells me to get into the bath

I don’t speak to her

just get my pajamas

towel

and go

even when I’m back upstairs

and Yurie brings dinner

on a tray

and I don’t eat a thing

except rice

and some boiled peanuts

even then

I don’t say

a word

when I finally stomp downstairs

I tell them I will write

to the
New York Times

the
Japan Times

every
Times
in the world

about the way they

treat crows

if they don’t quit

that custom

and make everyone else

in the village

quit that custom now

the farm is connected

to a cooperative

that’s part of

an agricultural organization

they can do this

I think

still

I’m surprised when

Uncle bows

Koichi bows

and they say

they are sorry

for upsetting me

and they will use

other ways to scare the crows

from now on

that night I read till late

Physics and You

general relativity

maximum force

kinetic energy

conservation

of energy

mass dependence

reversing the motion

and biographies of

Marie Curie

Alfred Nobel

and Hideyo Noguchi

then in the dark

I lie

iPod on

trying not to picture

you

trying not to recall

the crow

trying not to see

that blink

A
fter that

I write to Jake

figuring

what’s to lose

not email

but a real letter

on folded paper

in an envelope

and a close-enough address

even though no one

that I know of

from the atom

has dared

to write him

or email him

or text him

in New York

where he’s counselor-in-training

at the nature camp

outside town

I think you should know, Ruth,

those last weeks of school

after you did

what you did

on his family’s land

while he slept

inside his room

not fifty yards

away

he kept to himself

away from even

Noah and Ken

who used to always

be at his side

all those weeks

he studied alone

ran track

broke school records

and never spoke

to us

stupid spiteful girls

his words

as he left one of the

counseling sessions

those first days after

that was when I got mad

stood, shouted

we’re not stupid!

ran out of that classroom after him

yelled at him

yelled at teachers and counselors

coming after me

and asked

where the hell were you?

what I wanted to know was

if depression is so common

if depression was a possibility

for someone like you, Ruth,

then why didn’t they teach us about it?

where were the experts to tell

stupid spiteful
us

about social withdrawal

and mania

and gestures

and impulsiveness

and all the signs

that we might have

been able to interpret

to understand you?

in my letter to Jake

I want to ask why

he didn’t clue us in

did he think we’d just know?

did he think we’d just get it?

or did you ask him

not to say anything

to us

or to Lisa

about why you were

sometimes seen

with him?

but then I think of that word

rapport

and how I’d had to look it up

that night after the service

when Jake’s mom said it

and how maybe Jake was right

that we were

stupid spiteful girls

I do my best

not to sound

stupid

in my letter

use words that

show signs of

a fledgling

brain

I ride the bicycle

to take the letter to the post office

but when I go to buy a stamp

I see display sheets of 80-yen stamps

          world heritage

          anime heroes

          calligraphy

          wild boars

and even though it takes 110 yen

for a letter to the States

and even though I’m partial to

one anime heroine

I buy a sheet of 80-yen stamps

of the fiftieth anniversary

of the Japanese Antarctic research expedition

emperor penguins and seals

the
Soya
research ship

and Taro, brother of Jiro

two Sakhalin husky

survivors

hoping that two Antarctic research stamps

about the real expedition

and not the expedition made up

by Disney

will show

I’m not

stupid

O
ne evening after farmwork

we rush through dinner and

Aunt cleans up while

Yurie tugs at my arms

and pulls me

to the village hall parking lot

to practice Bon dances

one dance I’d learned

at Japanese weekend school

another I know vaguely

from my mother

who’d play a cassette

and make Emi and me

and my father

follow her

around the living room

some summers

she was homesick

but other songs and dances

are new to me

performed in a circle

to music on a CD

that they restart

and track back

again and again

to help newbies like me learn

where to put their feet

when to go forward

when backward

when to raise the fan and

when

to stop

Asuka dances, too

and after practice

she and Yurie and I sit

with cold canned tea

handed out by the

village women’s association

and as people drift off

for home

we talk

Yurie leaves when

she’s done with her tea

but Asuka and I

stay longer

till she and I are

the only ones left

and Asuka asks

about my friends

and New York

and how far is the city

from our town

and Manhattan and Broadway

and shopping and

I promise to show her around

if she comes to visit

each night

we gather

we dance

wave our fans

wave our arms

stepping forward

stepping back

then Asuka and I talk

sitting on the gritty boards

of that strip of veranda

by the darkened village hall

after everyone goes home

and I think

I’m glad to have

this cousin friend

and I think

to tell Asuka

about you

someday

O
bon comes to Kohama

and work stops

for us

but not for Yurie—

pharmacies in the city of Numazu

never closing

for the odd Obon dates

on this quiet part of the peninsula

like all farm families here

          for Jiichan

          great-grandfather

          and other ancestor spirits

we set up the special altar

to welcome them home

Uncle assembles a wood frame

floor to ceiling with

planks set in for a table

like a food stall

at a fair

Aunt covers the planks with

grass blades cut to forearm length

then from a rod we drape

persimmon sprigs

abundant, unthinned clusters

of green
mikan—
eight, nine

even ten to a bunch—

taro stalks and leaves

edamame

more taro stalks and leaves

more persimmon sprigs

more
mikan

harvest greens

Uncle sets out the memorial tablet

Baachan brings water for the spirits

then in armloads

from the kitchen table

where they are heaped

we carry a watermelon, a pumpkin, grapes

peaches, corn, chestnuts

dry
somen
noodles

even Jiichan’s favorite black sugar candies

and we set them all

atop the blades of grass

we hang the family scroll

names of deceased

going back generations

and in front of everything

place an eggplant cow

and cucumber horse

for the spirits

to ride home

I think of Sukkoth

and you

sitting under an abundance

of fall harvest

in a backyard sukkah

as you must have done

as I do

with my father and mother

and Emi each fall

my mother loving that

Jewish festival

that reminds her so much

of Kohama

Obon