My Childhood Friend

Part 4 (Age 16)

Your mother sent out these photo cards.  You didn't look happy in any of the pictures.  Until your baby brothers came along.  They didn't look Chinese.  

I discovered chemistry and I sent you my feelings using chemical formulas.  You never asked me to explain them.  You answered them with your drawings - of your face, a smiling lip with chocolate smears, half-closed eyes with a tree house in sunset, hands cradling chickens, legs dangling from swings, ice cream melting on the front porch, weathered hands picking guitars, a table full of American dishes with a bottle of soy sauce.

This year, the University gave Dad a grant to take a sabbatical in America.  Dad got us set up in an apartment near St. Jude's Children's Hospital.  Where he observed new treatments for Leukemia.

I looked up on the map.  Only 350 miles to your stepdad's farm.  5 hours by car.  If Dad drove at Dad speed.

Our moms spoke every day, leading up to the visit.  She asked if I were just as excited to see you again.

I shrugged and gave her the "whatever" look.  

Actually, my heart raced every time I heard your name and could hardly wait.  

I wished you had sent me drawings of yourself --  your curves well defined by the T-shirt and jeans, your hair like black silk. 

We shook hands politely while your mothers hugged each other like sisters.  Your stepdad gave my father a tour of the farm.  I thought we could be alone.  Then your cousins showed up.

The twins took liberties that made me feel unkind towards them.  Jealous.  They liked to hug you and then put their arms around you.  One on each side.

They took me fishing.  They assessed me. Up and down. I assessed them. I liked your cousins.

I just didn't like the way they looked at you.  In a slightly over-protective, possessive way.

We sat on the big porch swing.  I could not find words to describe that moment.  In any language.  Except to move closer to you so our legs touched.