The Language Inside (56 page)

she sets out details:

I’d be on my own a lot

I’d have to cook dinners

I’d have to do laundry

be disciplined about my homework

and on and on

but I only half listen

she’s waiting for my response

I think she expected me

to jump for joy

because when I sit there

gripping my mug of tea

caught between

Japan and Massachusetts

stunned to have gotten what

I’d secretly been wishing for

she says
Emma?

after New Year’s?
I ask

yes
Mom says

just after your birthday—

I refuse to miss that

her jaw sets as she says this

and it occurs to me just then

that she’s opposed to the idea

and maybe Dad is, too

but they’re offering anyway

I count the months, weeks, days

whatever I’d have here

before I left for Japan

the time I’d have to

try Cambodian dance

the time I’d have leading the
tanko bushi

at halftime shows

the time I’d have for poetry workshops

the time I’d have with Zena

the time I’d have

with Samnang

and suddenly

it seems like nowhere near

enough

I don’t know
I say

and Mom and YiaYia both

jerk their heads back in surprise

then I consider . . . 

the one-year anniversary . . . 

I could be there in Japan

maybe even in Tohoku

I’ll mull it over
I say

set down my tea

I need to think

I go up to my room

close the door

and lie down on my bed

stiff as a plank

I stare at the ceiling

trying to visualize the pros

to each option, the cons

to each option

in my journal

I make lists

but they’re no help

    
Japan

    Dad

    Madoka

    Tohoku visits

    international school

    fund-raising

    one-year anniversary

    Japanese language

    spring soccer

    
Massachusetts

    Mom

    Zena

    Cambodian dance

    
tanko bushi
and full program

    YiaYia

    Toby

    driver’s license

    Samnang

when there’s hardly any daylight left

I put on my coat and gloves

and go outside to sit on the freezing bricks

of YiaYia’s steps to the backyard

out there it feels private

in the dark and cutting air

but I can’t sit still

so I start pacing

back and forth

across the yard

picking up fallen sticks

flinging them at a tree

I don’t know what to do

or how I’m supposed to decide

or what the consequences will be

of choosing one way over the other

at last I call Samnang

hey
he says warmly

and I nearly lose my nerve

but I ask him

Samnang, I have to know

why did you kiss me today?

oh
he says

and he’s quiet a long time

so long a car comes to a pause at the stop sign

turns and continues up the street

lights raking yards as it disappears

and the dusk turns silent again

I kissed you because
he says softly

I wait for him to say more

that’s it?

no
he says

but that’s all that needs saying right now

and he’s right

I can read the air between us

I could read it all day between us

there’s no need for words

thanks
I whisper

I walk across the yard

to a woodpile left from when

Papou was alive and well

split logs I can barely make out

in the light from the kitchen window

I sit down on the pile

elbow on one knee

head in one hand

holding Samnang’s breathing

close to my ear with the other

I want to weep

Samnang
I say

I just learned I can go back to Japan

if I want

not right away

but soon

I hear the air explode out of him