When the red X's on the calendar finally began to head toward Christmas break Kim felt the call of home for the first time. She had talked to her her parents by phone every Wednesday night without fail and the conversation was always the same. Staunch and formal, talk of grades and remembering she represented the family. Kim sometimes felt as if she could have recorded the message and her replies and had the same experience.
Her relationship with Trinity for the first few weeks after the pact had been a tsunami like experience and Kim had quickly pulled back. In theory, it had been exactly what she dreamed of parties, meeting boys and shushing each other as they stumbled in far past curfew. But the immersion left her almost in a shock like state of over stimulation and she found herself unable to enjoy it. It was a constant innondation of voices and motion without pause to refill or focus.
When she fell asleep during her Tuesday lecture class and woke to see the students filtering out while her own desk stood untouched; the pen and paper unused, she realized she couldn't do it all. Talking with Trinity went too well and she supposed the girl was relieved at losing a sidekick that always wanted to be home before daybreak. Kim would have felt like a failure, but Trinity was unable to break her cycle as well and continued to believe that studying meant texting, eating pizza, and watching television with a book open.
The following weeks she stayed in, relishing the sound of silence that she had missed even more than she thought possible. She didn't have time to analyze whether it was culture, parenting or just their nature that kept them in their circles, but she realized that she wasn't ready to take on parties, friendship, and studies and with exams on the way and she chose the safest and most comfortable route.
When the last class before break ended she walked the quad, her heavy floral backpack bumping against her back, her feet pointed toward the dorm but her eyes roaming toward Rose. In the blink of an eye she gave up the notion of staying on campus and researching the postcards and packed a bag to spend the week at home. She thought about calling her parents to let them know, but it wasn't Wednesday, and she didn't want them watching the clock timing her journey. She wanted to take the trip slowly, spend time with Rose and gain back her center.
Rose's door groaned as she opened it, but the scent that floated to greet her proved it wasn't a protest. The interior still wrapped Kim like an embrace of smells and memories even too sacred to compare to the feeling of home. For Kim, it was more like finding herself, the perfect mix of being in the world and yet being sheltered from it. She took the postcards that she had been storing in her nightstand and put them back in the glovebox where they belonged and clicked the seatbelt into place. For the first time in months, Kim didn't have the feeling of longing or the nagging worry about being or becoming because being with Rose, Kim knew exactly who she was.
The radio was playing mostly static with an intermittent crackle of pop music appearing just frequently enough to make Kim remember it was on. The tires hummed and Kim felt a small sense of excitement at the lounging around home for the week, seeing her parents, and eating food that was both familiar and comforting. She twisted the silver radio knob back and forth trying to even up the ratio between crackles and lyrics until she found a station dedicated to playing only Christmas music. She hummed and sang to the lyrics until a song came on about going home for Christmas. Kim didn't participate but listened to every word, letting them sink in. A man wanted to be home with his family to celebrate the season, and declared that even if he wasn't able to be there, he would still be there in spirit and dreams.
She drove slowly through her neighborhood, the sleepy streets still and quiet in the night with houses lit up with twinkling lights. Pulling into the driveway of her own house she wasn't surprised to find it dark, no lights twinkling or otherwise for her parents, just the same unused wicker chairs and small table sitting below the porch-light, unlit of course because "who would pay to light up the neighborhood at night, thats what the streetlights are for". Her mouth crept into a secret smile, these words stirring from below, surfacing because she'd mouthed them so many times in synch with her mother.
For a few minutes she sat there, observing, calling back feelings and memories of nights during the Christmas season growing up. Kim's friends getting ready for Santa and reindeer and waking to presents and stockings stuffed with candy. Her family celebrated with food, sweet potato noodles and rice cake soup. There was always a gift, one small token to the girl who wanted Santa to bring her an actual Christmas instead of a paper covered box. It was always something Kim wanted, but never given with what Kim considered holiday cheer and anticipation. At one point Kim had researched Santa Haraboji, educating her parents to the fact that even in Korea kids celebrated Santa but her mother had scoffed, telling Kim that Christmas wasn't about lights and presents and focusing on those things belittled it's meaning.
When school breaks were over Kim would trudge back and 'Oh and Ahh' over her friends stories of trying to catch reindeer and having sore hands form opening so many gifts. She would remember their stories from one year to the next, change things, and use them as her own the following year just to fit in. As the windshield began to collect steam from the contrast of cool night air and her warm breath, Kim made a declaration. This year she would set up a mini tree in her room and hang a swag of lights. This year she was a capable and strong woman who didn't need Santa to bring anything, Kim was more than able to bring Christmas to herself.
Grabbing her bag she opened Rose's door ignoring the groan of old metal and bent over to stretch after sitting so long. She knew the feeling behind Rose's creaks and groans as she felt her back give a satisfying crack. She hadn't even reached the porch when the light popped on, the door opened, and her mother and father stood in the doorway.
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I find it interesting that after tasting the real world for a few weeks Kim longs for home, the one place she couldn't wait to leave. I didn't understand it for a bit and waited to upload. But I think Kim knows what she's doing. So far she hasn't steered me wrong. Thanks so much for reading.
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Miles & Memories
General FictionA journey through time measured in miles and memories all connected to a treasured pink Cadillac
