Time Capsule

[Believe_N_Me]

"THE SWEATSHIRT"

       At the bottom of a basket and underneath a stack of winter clothes was where I saved it. Since I only wore it one time to look at myself in the mirror, it still smelled like the packaging. I didn't forget that it was there. I just hadn't thought about it being there because I struggled to cope with the memories. During the second weekend of C's visit, he convinced me to have our picture taken at the mall. The place was a small studio operated by some Hmong people whom I've never seen before. The backdrops were outdated and unflattering, but C could've cared less about appearances. He was hellbent on having our images immortalized so that he could frame it in his office.   
      While I searched the closet and rummaged through the dresser for a top, C pulled out the sweatshirt. "Hamline University" was spelled out in large, maroon block letters on gray fleece. My heart skipped a beat as he proceeded to measure it against himself. C remarked at the newness of it and then mentioned how it was too big for me. He asked how it came into my possession but before I could think of a suitable response he was already pulling it over his head. I hesitated to comment after he marveled about it being a perfect fit and wanted to wear it in the picture. I raised an eyebrow at him since I was under the impression that we'd dress a little more fancy. However, C was perfectly content going all casual and insisted on wearing the sweatshirt. I was about to object, citing that one should never wear a top with letter print in pictures, and that that sweatshirt was actually a sacred relic never to be touched, let alone worn. But there was no creative way to express that last part without disclosing some history of that sweatshirt. I gave myself a break and decided right then that this was exactly what I needed to start anew.
      Over the years the sweatshirt was mine in name only. It became a staple in C's closet. It was his goto top of all time on cold days. Even if I put it away with my clothes, C would always find it when he was going to do yard work like rake the leaves. One nippy day in October, it just popped into my head that I wanted to wear it on my walk. It would've only been the second time that I wore it. I remembered seeing it laying atop a pile of C's clothes, rolled up loosely and parts turned inside out. The bottom band was stretched out from wear, and the maroon letters were cracked and flaky from loads of washing. When I didn't find the sweatshirt where I last saw it, I went through my dresser and baskets. Nothing came up. Zilch. Nada. I didn't want to admit that I felt a sense of great loss.
     I waited until C came in from the garage to ask if he knew of the sweatshirt's whereabout. There was no immediate response because he had to think about which sweatshirt I was referring to. I followed him as he traipsed through the length of the house to wash his greasy hands in the bathroom sink. I couldn't tell if it was just an act - him suddenly not remembering which gray fleece sweatshirt I was talking about and all. I stood in the doorframe and waited for an answer, or a clue... anything. He closed the door and said that he needed to tinkle. Then from the other side of that same door he said:

      "I threw it away."
      "You threw it away?" I asked as though I didn't hear him clearly enough.
      "I threw it away," he repeated just as nonchalantly as before. "It was a bloody mess. I wore it last weekend when I went to help slaughter the cow."
      "You couldn't just have washed it? I would have washed it."
      "Nah. It was soaked in blood and smelled like guts."
      I contemplated about checking the trash bins when C added:
      "I threw it out last week. It's gone."
     
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=miZU7r8fT0Q




   

[Believe_N_Me]

"PLAYDATES"

     His name was David. His light blonde hair was shaved so close to the head that it felt prickly like the heavy duty scrub sponge in our kitchen sink. His eyes were so light blue that they glistened and appeared translucent. He was only wearing short, gray bottoms when I first met him, or rather when I first heard him behind the large waste bins of the apartment complex.
     After tossing trash into the bin, I peeked around the corner to investigate what sounded like rocks hitting against a hard surface. I saw a row of empty soda cans placed near the brick wall of the building. He stood about ten feet back and took aim at them, shooting rocks with a bright orange, plastic, store-bought slingshot. I immediately thought how much better I was at taking out those cans. This kid was awful and who better to show him how to get the job done than me? I invited myself to his game by asking if I could have a try. He didn't object and proceeded to hand over the slingshot. The truth was that I had never played with slingshots before since my big brother would've killed me if I touched the ones he whittled from branches. Needless to say, I was the undefeated marbles champion in the 2nd grade at school so having excellent aim was something that came naturally to me.
     I closed one eye and strategically aligned the shot towards a can, then released the band. Pew! Bullseye! The can flew out and struck down at least three other cans. It was actually just a lucky shot. I was confident that I could do it, but not that confident. However, David jumped up and down ecstatically and we gave each other high-fives. For the next hour we took turns shooting and David got incrementally better. 
     Afterwards, we played in front of David's patio. I pointed out the building where I lived and asked him why he didn't go to my school. He didn't know why except that it was his old school and that he didn't want to leave his friends. I learned that David lived with his mother, a sister named Kim (who was in her teens), and an older cousin named Chris. I don't know why I thought it was worth mentioning that Matt and Jesse also only had a mom, and my friend Shirley, too. They were kids who lived in the complex. Shirley's mom was heavy, like David's mom, but Matt and Jesse's mom was slender. All details that seemed important to a child.
     I spotted my mom's white Corolla hatchback roll into the parking lot. At the same time, David's cousin stepped onto the patio and called him to eat. We waved good-bye to each other and said that we'd play again the next day.
     Everyday after that I looked forward to playing with David. The school bus dropped off my sister and me at the street entrance to the complex. I'd have to walk pass David's apartment on the way home and noticed that he had just come home from school, too. I tried to keep it low key when he waved to me from his cousin's car since I didn't want my sister to know about our friendship just yet. Then as soon as we stepped foot through the door, I'd throw down my backpack on the table and hightail out of there. My older siblings didn't seem to have any concerns about where I was going or who I was playing with and I never bothered to let them know either.
     David was not allowed to go past his building so we only played ball on the front lawn or watched tv inside. Chris would sit on the sofa, flipping through fashion magazines, but Kim was super fun and friendly. She curled my hair and played the Go-Gos on the record player. She dressed me up and applied make-up on my face. I'd come home with blue eye shadow but my mom didn't even notice.
     One day I unknowingly said David's name out loud. My sister thought I was talking about fat David Sparrow who lived next door. He was an older kid, about my brother's age, and kind of mean. He also had a sister named, Peggy, who was mean and not just kind of mean. None of the neighborhood kids wanted to play with her. Their mom was white and their dad, who came around once in awhile, was black. Anyways, once the cat was out of the bag my sister started tagging along with me to David's house. Soon, it became a girls' thing with other girls in the neighborhood inviting themselves to hang out with Kim. David and I started spending less time together until it suddenly stopped one day.
     It all happened when Kim, who was older than all of us, admitted to having a massive crush on Jesse. Both attended the same high school and she felt delighted that he lived in our complex. The plan was for the younger girls to lure him out by inviting Matt to play. Almost all the kids in the complex were latchkey. That is children without adult supervision other than an older sibling. The only person for the job was my sister since she and Matt were in the same class and he was kind of sweet on her. If all else failed, my sister would have Matt ask his older brother, Jesse, to go out with Kim. For some unknown reason to me, the rest of the girls felt motivated to confess their crushes. I started feeling nervous because I was afraid to tell them about John, a quiet boy in my class with caramel-colored hair and olive skin. John had deep-set dimples and the prettiest green eyes I had ever seen.
     When it was my turn to confess I completely lied through my teeth and said that I couldn't think of anybody. Just then, Kim called to her brother to come quickly. David appeared in the doorway with a sandwich in his hand. He looked annoyed at all the girls, including me, who stared at him like a sideshow freak. Kim made some random remarks about the two of us and then someone suggested that we kiss. David ran away immediately and I was nearly in tears from the humiliation. 

[Believe_N_Me]

"REMNANTS"

     They wanted it all. Everything. All evidence must be thrown out and destroyed. It was the tradition. My mother relayed this message to me from the mediators. I scrambled into my bedroom and locked the door behind me. The girl in green was doing number one at the time so I was alone. Good. I pulled out all the albums and the size 6 shoebox from underneath my bed. I checked the stereo to make sure that it was empty - nothing in the cassette deck. Good.
     It was now time to say good-bye. I tried being ceremonious about it. I thought that I would cry, but I didn't. Two years reduced to a shoebox and a couple of slots inside three binders. I dumped everything into a plastic shopping bag and then dialed ###-530-9244. Brrring, brrring, brrring... Disrupted by a light knock on the door. It was my mother coming to check on me.
     "Are you in there alone?" she asked.
     "Yeah, mom. I'm almost done in here," I told her, hoping that she would go away.
     The phone rang two more times before my niece picked up. There was no time to explain anything as I ordered her to come by the house immediately. The matter was urgent. It was down to the seconds.
     "Open the door," my mother demanded from the other side.
     I dropped the bag with its sentimental content on the dresser and unlocked the door. My mom stared at me with interrogative eyes when I stepped out of the room. If I was sweating guilt then lock me up. I slowly moved into the room where they sat at a long table, their arms folded and surrounded by a sea of uncles, cousins and other male relatives. The only person in the room who didn't have his eyes on me was my own father. He was wiping away tears and blowing on his glasses.
     One of the mediators was the first to break the silence. He motioned that if there was nothing else then they should move on to the next phase. Just then, I spotted my niece weaving her way in through the crowd from the front door. I gestured for her to meet me in the bedroom and she quickly complied. By that time they were bored of me and did not care if I slipped away. There was no need to raise suspicion by shutting the door so I handed her the bag and whispered into her ear.
     "Keep this for me. Whatever you do, do not discard it."
     She nodded and then quietly exited the house unnoticed.

     When someone goes away all evidence of them goes away, too. It's as if the universe conspires to pause all traces of their existence. I began to wonder if it was ever real. Maybe it was all just a dream. It was certainly a head scratcher that even favorite songs on a mixed tape never coincidentally aired on the radio or played through the speakers at the mall. Perhaps it was better this way. Heart breaks are debilitating. They cause one to become dysfunctional. Breathing hurts. Crying stings. Waking up is a struggle. 
     Then one day they appear in a dream that ends too soon. Yelling at the alarm clock won't bring back the feeling of being embraced by their eyes and enveloped in their love. Of course, the appropriate response is to call in sick. Hide underneath the blanket and sleep away the day.
     If you live long enough to experience another opportunity to love again, you'll realize that life will give you a free lobotomy. However important or special you thought that person was, you'll find yourself reading the chapters of your past like it's somebody else's life. No evidence means no existence. And then BOOM! You're cleaning out the house decades later. A house that is located in a different city, a different state, and is completely detached from where you once were. And just like that you come across a remnant that was thought to have been lost, thrown out, or destroyed.     

     Don't underestimate the power of a piece of paper that is no bigger than the size of a hand. That little card traveled over 900 miles just to confirm that it was all real.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hO_pZm6LCW0

 

[Believe_N_Me]

"WHEN DADS ARE IN CHARGE OF THE KIDS"

     That morning I weaseled my way out of going to school by faking a tummy ache. I'm pretty sure my dad knew that it was all a hoax but he was too tired to battle it out with me. Besides, kindergartners started school late, which meant no bussing and parents had to drop off and pick up their own child. If you asked me, I did my dad a favor by giving him an extra hour of sleep.
     While dad slept without a care of what I was up to, I made my way downstairs into the kitchen where I poured myself a bowl of Honeycomb cereal. I didn't particularly care for this flavor but it was my brother's favorite and he usually got his way. I was careful not to pour too much milk since I knew that I wouldn't finish it. For some reason it really grossed me out to drink the milk after eating the cereal. Maybe because the entire time I was dipping the spoon into the bowl after eating from it. Yuck! Anyways, I spent the morning watching "Scooby-Doo" and then the "Polka Dot Door" on PBS. I skipped the shows with puppets because they creeped me out. The only puppet I liked was Kermit. Every other one of them had scary eyes and I didn't like the fact that their mouths stretched from ear to ear. They gave me nightmares.
     Around 12 noon the phone rang. My maternal uncle was on the other end of the line. He was surprised to hear me answer the phone and questioned why I wasn't at school. I didn't exactly give a reason and only told him that I just didn't go. He didn't press any further and instead, wanted to speak with my dad. I rushed upstairs to fetch my dad, who was actually just done washing up in the bathroom.
     Some time after my dad got off the phone, uncle showed up at the house with his three-year-old daughter. She reminded me of a baby doll with her rosy cheeks and bobbed haircut. I gave her one of the Strawberry Shortcake dolls and we pretended to play house with them. As we carried on, I overheard the dads briefly chat about uncle's car. Something wasn't right with it. Then my dad turned to me and explained that I would have to help watch over cousin for just a bit. He and uncle had to run to the store for auto parts and it was too much of a hassle to bring us both. Uncle held cousin's hand and told her to be good.
     "Don't cry. Stay with sister. See here. Play with the dolls. I'll be back soon," he persuaded her. She was actually being very good and not crying at all. Then he stood up and asked my dad if I was capable of the task. My dad reassured him that I could do it.
     "Don't open the door for anybody and don't answer the phone. Don't tell anybody that you're alone,"  my dad reminded me.
     "Okay," I promised.
     "I'm going to lock the door so don't open it," said my dad as he and uncle were leaving the house.
     After they left, cousin and I played with the dolls on the sofa. I explained that these were special dolls because they were scented like fruits, and then held one up to her nose. Her eyes lit up and I continued to hold each doll to her nose. I asked her to pick out her favorite one and her tiny finger pointed to Cherry Cuddler, which I received as a Christmas present from our sponsors. Then I heard cousin's tummy growl. She stopped playing dolls and told me that she was hungry. We went into the kitchen but there was nothing that she would eat. She pointed to the freezer.
     "Ice cream," she insisted.
     I opened the freezer door but there was only a blue freezer pop, which I bit off the end and gave to her. After finishing the freezer pop she still insisted on having ice cream. I explained that there wasn't any ice cream, but she could not understand me. However, I did know where we could get some. There was an open space between the back of our apartment building and a small plaza. At the end of the plaza was a convenient store that sold ice cream. My sister and I, along with friends, went there all the time to get ice cream cones. It was a bit pricey but the flavors were delicious. I told cousin to stay put while I went upstairs to fetch my coin purse. I remembered that I had exactly five dollars and some spare change. Since I didn't want to break up my five dollar bill, I counted my coins to make sure that I had exactly enough for one cone.
     I helped cousin into her shoes then closed the door behind us, leaving it unlocked since I didn't have a key. We were off to buy ice cream at Duffy's. I held her little hand as we went around the building and opened a loose board in the wooden fence. I assisted her so that she wouldn't scrape her legs. As we crossed the open space, she was frightened by the long grass that brushed against her legs and arms, but I told her not to look at them. When we got to the plaza I lifted her up to look into some of the storefront windows. We finally arrived at Duffy's. I was familiar with the man who owned the store. He waved hello and lowered himself to shake cousin's hand. However, I had no time for chit chat. I was strictly there for business and wanted to make it back before the dads got home. Cousin didn't have a flavor preference so I chose the strawberry for her. It had real strawberry fruit so I just figured that she'd like it. I told the man only one scoop. He rang us up and I gave him four quarters, two dimes, and six pennies. I knew this because my sister had shown me every time we went there.
     On the way back cousin made a great mess. Her face was smothered with ice cream. Her dress was wet and sticky. I tried to wipe it off but only made it worse. The dads were home shortly after we got back. They both noticed cousin licking away at her cone. Uncle didn't say much except that it was nice of me to give ice cream to cousin. I don't think he understood that it wasn't from our refrigerator. After they left, my dad asked me where the ice cream came from. I proudly explained to him how responsible I was to take cousin to Duffy's and even used my own money to pay for it. He suggested that I don't mention it to my mom.
 

[Believe_N_Me]

"THE MIGHTY SHAOLIN MASTERS"

    In the summer of ## we became obsessed with Chinese Kung Fu movies, especially those that featured a female cast or a strong female lead. The two brothers, who lived in the west apartment building, came over to my maternal cousin's house on a regular basis. We watched our favorite movies and held lively discussions about the actors and actresses. We knew the brothers through one of our sister-in-laws. The younger brother, Ying, was attractive, athletic, and popular. On the other hand, his brother, Leng, got the short end of the stick when it came to the gene pool. He was clumsy, slow-minded, and not very good-looking. The motive behind their frequent social interactions was because my cousin Joua was attracted to Ying. Meanwhile, his brother Leng had strong feelings for my sister, who openly rejected him every time and gave him the elbow if he dared come close to her.
     One day my sister and Joua appeared dehydrated and exhausted. At first, they hesitated to divulge where they had been. They would only say that it was a secret. Joua's younger brother and I begged them to disclose their secret and when the pleading failed to work, we resorted to petty threats. Finally, Joua said that it was safe to let us know, but I could tell that she was dying to let the world know about their unusual activities with the two brothers.
Once the secret was out, Joua's brother and I expressed how much we wanted to be a part of it. The two girls promised that they would bring us along the next time.
     On the following day, we followed my sister and Joua out to the field behind the apartment complex. Ying and Leng were already out there waiting with two other younger cousins (A-Lee and Teng). As soon as we reached them Ying suggested that we get into formation and do warm-up exercises. The bad guys would be here soon to invade our village and we must protect the women and children. However, cousin Joua said that we should partner up so that each guy had his own wife to protect. Ying agreed that it was a good idea. He quickly claimed my sister to be his wife, which surprised Joua because she was hoping that he would choose her. She objected by reason that everybody should partner with the person closest to their age. Therefore, my sister should pair up with Leng and that she and Ying should be husband and wife.
     "But I already chose a wife," said Ying. "I guess I can take two wives. Joua, you can be the second wife."
     "Oh no. Then I'm out," my sister said and stepped back.
     "Fine. You can be my wife," Leng suggested happily. My sister gave him the death stare.
     Joua recommended that we figure it out later. Meanwhile, she ordered me to choose between A-Lee or Teng. I complained that they were shorter than me. I pointed out that husbands should be taller than their wives and why couldn't we just be the children in the village? In fact, nobody had to be husband and wife. We agreed that everybody would be a mighty Shaolin master instead.
     In the field, we built our village from mud and tall grass. The boys found discarded wooden sticks and drywall from an apartment building that was undergoing renovations. We practiced sword fighting and punched through the dry wall. Ying showed off by stacking a bunch of them together so that he could do a roundhouse kick. We trained fiercely by climbing over the walls that divided the patios on the first floor. Just then, a man shouted at us to get away from the building. We scrambled over the dividers, leaving my cousin (Joua's brother) behind. His chubby body struggled to keep up and we heard him cry. Ying told us to run to the field as he went back to assist the fallen warrior.

UPDATE:

Those boys moved away the following summer. My sister and Joua never saw their "husbands" again but I ran into them by coincidence at the Fresno New Year. I had a cousin who wanted to introduce me to some cute [clan name] boys that she met the day before. At first, I didn't recognize any of them. I didn't know why their names didn't ring a bell either. That is until I kept telling myself that I only knew of one A-Lee [clan name] and how could this person share the same name? I looked at them closer and then asked if they used to live in [city, state]. They smiled and nodded. Then they teased me about not remembering them or even recognizing who they were. Ying and I were actually in the same homeroom for two years and played together during recess. He'd pick me first in gym class and fend off the bullies. He wasn't very good in school so I let him copy off me. Also, he never brought any snack during reading so I'd share half of whatever I packed from home. I'm glad to report that A-Lee and Teng grew up to be taller than me. 
 

[Believe_N_Me]

"THE PRAYER"

Oh my Heavenly Father,

Only You know who I am. You are the One who truly knows my heart's desires, and only You know how to fulfill them. I love him with all of my heart, this You know well. However, if he is not the one that You intend for me then I will wait for the one that You saved for me. As much as it pains me and leaves me broken, I trust Your judgement and Your plan. For you see things that I don't and Your ways are better than mine. I will abide by Your timeline and accept only the gifts that You give. Therefore, my heavenly Father, I will wait with joy for what is to come. I only pray for peace in my heart and the strength to move on.

Amen 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wInJlp8rviw

[Believe_N_Me]

"MAIV NOOG COMES TO TOWN"

     The day started out like every other Saturday. The uncles played "kaj taub" on the grassy area while we kids chased each other around the playground. At some point everybody banded together to try and take down Fong, who was my uncle but only four or five years older. Nobody could ever beat him at any of the games, whether it was Chinese jump rope, tag, or cards. This time he was taunting us from the top of the jungle gym tower, knowing that none of us could reach him. Suddenly, one of the boy cousins who was closer to Fong's age scaled across the monkey bars and up the tower. Fong shifted his weight in preparation to jump off the tower as A closed in. Needless to say, the rest of us was rooting for A. Just as A stretched out his arm to tag Fong, Fong leaped in the air like a flying squirrel and landed with both feet in the sand.
     "Ha! Never!" Fong shouted and laughed at us.
     One of the big kids ordered us to chase him down until another boy cousin successfully caught the hem of his shirt. The boys held him down so that everybody could get a turn tagging him.
     "You're out...you're out...Fong's out..." we chanted playfully.
     "No fair. You guys are a bunch of cheaters," he objected.
     Just then, Fong's older brother scolded us about climbing the tower. We all cleared our names by pointing the finger at Fong. After that nobody was in the mood to play tag. We decided to gather at Kia's place. Kia, my niece, was older but hung out with us. The boys immediately went to her brothers' room while the girls congregated in hers, which was the master bedroom with its own bathroom suite. There were two older sisters that shared the room but they got married a few years back.
     At first, we played with makeup and looked through fashion magazines. Kia showed me how to choose a flattering eye shadow color palette and also how to apply it properly. However, I still couldn't get my left eye to match my right eye. It looked even worse with eyeliner since I couldn't keep a steady hand. My sister said that it looked like I had a lazy eye. Cousin Joua came up with the idea that we should make up ourselves and take pictures. Kia added that we could wear her clothes. Of course, we all thought it was an excellent idea. After all, Kia was so cool, fashionable, and Americanized. A lot of boys liked her, but she was already going out with a very cute white boy at her school.
     While we got busy dressing up, Joua couldn't decide which shade of lipstick to wear. She called in her younger brother, who was always the guinea pig for many of her tests and trials. When he realized what she wanted him for, he ran out and wouldn't come near the door. That's when Kia's brother, N, appeared at the doorway to investigate what sent Jay running to the boys' room. To this day, we still can't agree upon who came up with the idea but it's a toss up between my sister and Joua. One of them said that we should play a prank on N's friend, who didn't live in our apartment complex. N agreed that it would be pretty fantastic to see how far we could get B to believe us.
     So we dressed up N in his sister's clothes, applied makeup, and styled his hair. Ta-da! Behold Mai Noog!
     The prank was to tell B that our so-called cousin Mai Noog was in town and that she wanted to connect with him after seeing his photo. It wasn't so farfetched back in the day to introduce people through the phone or even just by letters. Joua would be the one to butter up B since she knew him very well. He would trust her to be the in-between person. As we finished styling Mai Noog, Joua dialed up B and gave him a preliminary speech about Mai Noog. B hesitated at first but Joua concocted a story that it was Mai Noog's last day in town. N got on the phone and spoke in two pitches higher than his usual tone. The rest of us nearly died laughing. However, B said that he wanted to see a photo of Mai Noog before she left. After N hung up the phone, Kia had him pose against the wall for a picture. I was proud to contribute my part by suggesting that our little cousin MK pose in the picture so that it would be more believable. The older kids thought that was a brilliant idea and suggested that I be in the photo, too, just for safe measure. We intentionally dimmed the room so the photo would develop darker. That way Mai Noog's appearance wouldn't be so obvious.
     For the next few days, Joua was in contact with B to report the goings-on of Mai Noog and to make sure that his interest didn't fizzle out. We couldn't wait to see how the photo turned out. In those days, you had to drop off a roll of film at Walmart, or any retail store that developed photos. It took about 3-5 days for them to be ready. Then you looked through the photo bin under your name to pick up your pictures. Waiting for Mai Noog's picture to be ready would not come fast enough. But we waited eagerly and when Kia called, we rushed to her house like there was free candy.
    There, standing in between MK and myself, was the stylish and mysterious Mai Noog. Her short hair was curled and teased upwards behind a red headband like the lead singer of Loverboy. Her right hand rested on the hip as she arched back in the over-size, striped blue buttoned up shirt with a tiny red belt around the waist. Although N blinked in the shot, it actually added a sultry vibe to Mai Noog's appearance. The picture came out shadowy, just enough to tell that it was MK and me standing next to Mai Noog - who might or might not have looked slightly familiar to B. It was time for the real test...to show B the picture.
     We waited until after church to show B the picture. He quickly glanced at it before handing it back to Joua.
     "Well, what do you think about her?" asked Joua.
     "She's pretty," replied B without much thought.
     "But doesn't she look kind of familiar?" N chimed in.
     "Not really."
     After that, B and Mai Noog wrote two times to each other with Joua as the facilitator. It became too much work for everybody to keep up the charades and B quickly became disinterested, as such was expected from a 12-year-old boy. We finally spilled the beans, but B swore that he knew it was a hoax the entire time. 

FUN FACT: Uncle Fong is a pher, who no longer visits this site as frequently as he did in the past. He doesn't know that I know. 

"Hi, Uncle Fong!" 
     
     
     

[Reporter]

 

[Believe_N_Me]

"THE SNOOPY SCHOOL"

     When I was about four years old, my family moved to the midwest to be closer to my father's cousins. We moved into the same low-income housing complex where other Hmong families lived. The apartment units were narrow and three stories high. Since my family was small, we only occupied the first and second floors. My parents complained a lot about the condition of the place but I loved living near my cousins and other Hmong children. My cousin and I liked to sit on their front stoop and eat overly ripened pears. Sometimes I jump roped with the black girls who lived next door to my cousins. Her parents didn't approve so she'd have to go inside. I also made a friend of the same clan name, whose family lived on the next street. She and I would sit on the bed while her big brother, who was in his teens, jumped as hard as he could and caused us to bounce and tumble over. We'd plead for him to jump over and over again. I also regularly visited a family-related grandmother who lived two doors down. I liked watching her do needlework. My mom would send my sister to fetch me. On the way home T lectured me about visiting too much and that it wasn't good manners.
     Before the end of summer, a flyer was sent to all the residents about a new daycare school opening in the complex. Many of the Hmong families didn't understand what the flyer said and concerns of eviction arose. My dad contacted my sister's teacher, who was Hmong but didn't live there, to explain the flyer to the Hmong families. After their fears were quelled, many of the Hmong families did not have any interest in the daycare except for my dad and another young father. My dad thought it was a great opportunity for me to be watched while he slept since he worked second shift. Thus, after visiting the daycare school, my dad and the other father decided to enroll their children in the program. The other father also had two small children: a boy my age and a girl who was only two years old. My dad and the other father made arrangements that As Koob, the boy, and his sister would walk every morning to our house to pick me up. Together, the three of us would walk ourselves to the Snoopy School. I called it that because there was a picture of Snoopy above the building.
     Every morning I sat by the window and looked out for As Koob and his sister. They lived farther down the street from us. I looked forward to the days when the sister didn't come because she was very naughty and always had a runny nose. Her cheeks were crusty from mucus and her clothes were dirty. She would cry on the way and put up a fight. As Koob would have to carry her on his back while I held her up so that she wouldn't slip off. On the other hand, As Koob and I were the best of friends. Not only did we play with each other at the school but even afterwards at home. His father asked if he wanted to marry me and if so, he would come ask my dad. As Koob said "yes" that he wanted to marry me. One time he asked for my dad's permission to marry me. It was just a cute joke between the dads but we didn't understand that. After that, As Koob would tell his sister to stay home and she stopped walking with us to the school. When she tried to follow him he would push her away and tell her to go home.
     Our favorite station to play at the school was the pretend area. There was a wooden stove, sink basin, and a car. We liked to sit in the car and pretend that we were going somewhere far. As Koob always wanted to drive so I just let him. We made believe on the drive, like, "look at that elephant. Hurry up, a lion is chasing us!"  One time during restroom break, some kids splashed water and got everybody in trouble. The teachers made us line up against the wall, boys on one side and girls on the opposite. Next, they told us to hold out our right hands with palms facing up. One of the teachers had a ruler and I knew what was coming. I was so terrified but too scared to cry. As Koob, who stood opposite of me, told me to be brave and that it would only sting for a bit.
     I felt so crushed because I knew that I wasn't at fault. I saved my tears for home. As Koob explained to my mom the reason why I was crying. Later that day he came to the house to ask if I wanted to play outside. He was carrying a small shoebox with holes on the top and in the other hand he swung a rope with a rock tied to the end. We spent the evening trying to catch a bird in the courtyard. I'd toss pebbles onto the ground in hopes of tricking the birds to think that it was seeds, and then As Koob quickly swung the rope to hit them. After a few attempts, he successfully knocked over a bird. I held open the box as he gently placed the bird inside. Then he said that I should keep it because he was gifting it to me.  When my mom called me inside I was excited to tell everybody about what happened. My mom couldn't believe that two little kids caught a bird, and my sister asked how we did it. My brother suggested that I feed rice to the bird. I carefully lifted the lid and sprinkled rice inside the box. I peeked through the hole to check if the bird was eating. Unfortunately, the bird died three days later. My mom made me toss it out in the backyard. As Koob didn't ask about the bird and I forgot to mention that it died.
     One Saturday afternoon, my family was eating at the dining table like we always did. It was usually the time when my parents engaged in long conversations about the weekday's events. They worked different shifts and rarely spent time together during the week. We kids ate quietly and listened in on their discussions. Every now and then, my dad enjoyed teasing us lightly while cracking jokes. However, my mom wasn't impressed and didn't like my dad to clown around with us. She thought that it always led to someone getting offended. My dad's mood changed to one of concern. He shared with my mom that he was going to have a talk with As Koob's dad about making sure their front door was locked. Apparently, earlier that morning while it was still dark outside, As Koob came to the house asking if I was awake. He was half asleep and still in his pajamas. My dad told him to go home. After hearing about the incident, my mom was shocked and worried that he could've been kidnapped. Later that day my dad talked to As Koob's dad, who was probably only in his late teens. They were a very young couple because I remember my parents commenting on their age and always had concerns about their well-being. My dad always checked in to see if they were okay, especially during blackouts, bad weather, or any time there was conflict in the complex. Some time thereafter, there was a huge fire that engulfed their apartment units. My dad dashed to their house to make sure that everybody was safe. I remember As Koob's dad carrying the little sister in a blanket and As Koob was in a thin t-shirt and shorts. The next morning I tagged along with my mom to their unit. She offered to assist As Koob's mom to see if there was anything that could be salvaged. Everything was destroyed. There was nothing left.
     I don't remember where they stayed after the night of the fire. I don't recall if they came to our house. I just know that after the fire, As Koob and his family moved away.
 

     
     
       

[Believe_N_Me]

"REMEMBER THE TIME?"

     Remember the time we said good-bye for the last time?
     
     

     

[Believe_N_Me]

"WHEN SHE IS GONE"

     When she is gone, please remember this about her:

1. She liked black and white cookies. They're so soft and billowy like sweet little pillows in her mouth.
2. Her favorite color was green. You may wonder why? Because it reminded her of the earth and the soft grass where she used to roll down on the side of the hill at "xxxxx xxxxxxxxx Park" as a kid.
3. She could eat a whole bag of lightly salted Harvest Snaps by herself. But should she?
4. She loved to listen to people talk, including strangers. She wanted to know everything about them and understand how they think. And they didn't know this but whatever they felt about whatever subject, she was feeling it with them, too. Especially when they were sad. She would lay awake at night wondering how to take away the sadness.
5. She looked best in purple and blue. Well that's what she thinks. 
6. She always wanted the best for those she cared about. Like really, really, really wanted the best for them. And she'd give them the best, too. Sometimes that was too much pressure for the people and she understood.
7. She's sorry if she offended anybody. Or not. Depends.  Gotta stand up for her values, after all.
8. If she's being snappy and hahay then it's because she's been holding her tongue for months. That's why it comes out as an explosion.
9. Strangers are always approaching her for help or to give her free things. Sometimes they just strike up a conversation with her. We still don't understand this. 
10. As a kid, she would sew clothes for her dolls and build them houses from ramen noodle boxes. This leads to the next thing.
11. She always wanted to be an architect and from early on used to draft floor plans all the time. She has notebooks filled with floor plans. Sadly, they were thrown away after she left home.
12. She is amazed by God's creations and God's rationality. However, she is often frustrated and like a child, is impatient with His timeiine.
13. She loved to learn. If she could be a career student, sign her up. She just doesn't want to teach but people seem to think that she's good at explaining things effectively.
14. She listened to classical music while working, studying, or storyboarding.
15. She LOVED to storyboard.
16. Her best writing happens when she is heartbroken.
17. Fall is her favorite season and also the fashion is the best.

[...maybe more to come]

But above all else, she loved her apple pie.

[Believe_N_Me]

"WHERE TO NOW?"

A door is closing, where to now?
Tomorrow will come, but how?

Leave while you sleep, gone when you wake.
Goodbye you, let only my heart ache.

I'll see you in the sun, I'll see you in the moon.
In my arms, we'll be together soon.

Don't stop growing, don't stop trying.
Save your tears, I'll do the crying.

I'll hold your hand, you'll hold my heart.
Little one, I love you always near or far.

The universe is calling, there needs a fix.
Daddy and me, we're on that list.

When you're grown, big like me.
You will understand, you will see.

I had to, not because I want to.
I did it for us, especially for you.

A door is closing, where to now?
Tomorrow will come, but how?

http://https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zGB7IWklW3s&list=PLACXTMhaK17FPgM18f_TfvWq1010XB9FE

[Believe_N_Me]

"TOUGH COOKIE"

     About two weeks ago I took B and C to register for school. C was completely intrigued with the big kids' school and mused in the car about what it might be like when she was old enough to attend. Her brother, in an annoyed tone of voice, explained that it wasn't that big of a deal and that school was the same everywhere at any age. C continued to express concern about her small stature. She was fearful of being bullied and pushed around.
     "Don't worry, lil' momma. You go to school with the nicest kids," I reassured her. "Besides, E will be there and isn't he your friend?"
     "That's true," she said.
     I discovered that the two had some sort of cute puppy love for each other. C used to talk about E all the time during the previous year when they were in the same class, but it wasn't until the most recent school year that I actually met him at the Jazz performance. I'd only seen a picture of E in the class photo and couldn't pick out which blond hair, blue-eyed boy he was on the stage. After the performance I asked C to introduce her little friend so that I could take a picture. E turned out to be a friendly boy whose looks reminded me of Prince George. Apparently, E's mom worked at the school and there was also a younger sister in a lower grade.   
     One day I received a text from E's mom. In her text, she stated that E was dying to know if C would be in the same classroom again. She included the name of E's teacher. I couldn't remember who was listed as C's teacher in the registration packet. C volunteered to check. Unfortunately, they weren't going to have the same teacher.
     "Should we text a response or should we break the bad news over the phone?" I asked C.
     "I think the phone will be better, Mommy," she replied.
     "Good thinking, lil' momma. Bad news is always better in person or on the phone."
     I punched in the numbers and set it on speaker so C could hear him clearly. E's mom picked up and was happy to hear C at the end of the line.
     "Hi. It's C. May I speak with E?"
     "Hi, C. You sure may. Oh boy, E is going to be super excited to hear from you," said Mrs. F. "E! You have a very special phone call from a very special person."
     It seemed like less than a second for E to get on the phone. I could hear the delight in their little voices when they said "hello" for the first time to each other over the phone.
     "Um, E, I think I have some bad news. We don't have the same teacher so we won't be in the same classroom," said C.
     There was a brief moment of silence. I think E was still processing. Then in a hopeful voice, E said:
     "We can still play together at recess."
     "Yeah, we can still play together at recess."
     "Okay."
     "Okay. Good-bye."
     "Good-bye."
     I asked C if she was feeling disappointed and sad about being in a different classroom. Her response was a display of total acceptance. She was content with seeing E during recess only. However, I was way more heartbroken than she was. I mentioned that they won't get to sit together at the same lunch table since students only sat with their class. I also threw in the fact that not being in the same classroom meant being away from each other most of the time except for moments when you're lucky enough to pass in the hall. C reassured me that she was okay with all of it. Wow, I thought. What a tough cookie I raised, even though my own heart was sinking. 

[Believe_N_Me]

"YOU'LL HAVE TO BECOME AN ENGINEER"

     That morning when I went to return a sunscreen at Sephora because I had an allergic reaction to the high concentration of zinc oxide, C learned to ride her bike. She skipped that milestone while we were renting in the ghettos because we kept them mostly indoors. While her dad cleaned out the garage, C requested that her older brother take off the training wheels. She was confident that she could do it since she knew how to maneuver a grown-up electric scooter. Balancing would not be a problem, she told her brother. As I pulled into the driveway she waved at me and said that she was close to being a "pro".
     "Great job, lil momma. I'm so proud of you," I said. "When I go on my walk you can ride your bike and keep me company."
     C was ecstatic to join me because she wanted to get more practice at riding the bike, which I bought for her the day before the national COVID lockdown. People in the store smiled and had asked if it was her birthday. So there we were on the tracks at the nearby middle school. C zoomed past me and even made attempts to stand up while pedaling so that she could gain more speed. Meanwhile, I had a special song on repeat. It was a female cover of an old Luj Yaj song that I've never heard before. The lyrics were both sad and comforting to my ears as she crooned lyrics about missing a long distance lover whom she could not reach. It made me think about apple pie, warm and sweet.
     I spotted C across the tracks. She looked like a little white button rolling across the horizon. It made me sad thinking about how I would never see her looking like that again. These are the kind of milestones that can't be repeated if missed. Lost in my own thoughts I didn't notice C roll alongside. She decided to slow down so that we would be at the same pace.
     "Mommy, if you and daddy live apart you'll have to become an engineer," she said.
     "What do you mean by that?" I asked.
     "You'll have to fix broken things around the house," she explained.
     "Don't I already help do some of that?"
     "Oh yeah. But daddy is stronger because he is a boy."
     "Fair enough," I agreed. "Is that what engineers do? They fix things around the house?"
     "Well they build things so duh, they would know how to fix things, too."   
     "But daddy isn't an engineer so can he still fix things around the house?" I asked.
     "Well he's the daddy so he should fix them anyways."

     

[Believe_N_Me]

"THE LITTLE DRUMMER BOY"

     During the Thanksgiving dinner at church, word got out that there was going to be a Christmas pageant. The youth director had approached some kids whom she wanted to star in the Nativity play. My cousin J, being one of the kids, went around to gloat about how she might be playing Mary until she discovered her competition. Apparently, the youth director also approached a quiet girl named N, who was always well-behaved and so obviously groomed by her mother to become a dutiful pastor's wife someday. J began to worry about whether or not she was pretty enough to get the role. My sister and I convinced her that N was too shy to get on stage and that her worrying was all for nothing.
     While J sorted out her emotions over the play, my ears perked up when the pastor's wife gathered all the children into groups according to their ages. I was excited to wonder what she had in store for us. The former pastor and his wife were too old. They never had any ideas to engage the church, much less the children.   

[to be continued...]