Beyond Me

Home > Other > Beyond Me > Page 2
Beyond Me Page 2

by Annie Donwerth-Chikamatsu

after Teacher signs me out is

  Mother?

  she’s watching the house

  we take a back way

  away from the shopping area

  like Grandmother tells me to do

  in emergencies

  to avoid falling plaster, signs, glass

  we stay in the middle of the street

  no cars, no bicycles, no people

  around

  it’s quiet

  except

  for a rumble starting

  moving along the street

  15:28

  pushing streetlights

  trees

  houses

  garden gates

  walls

  electrical lines

  high to low

  we drop down

  with

  no cover

  Grandmother shields me

  I hold on to her

  15:29

  my head spins

  15:30

  stomach churns

  15:31

  is Earth still spinning?

  15:33

  we wait until the lines barely swing

  we walk on

  arm in arm

  stop

  15:34

  drop

  15:35

  15:36

  the wires keep moving

  15:37

  up

  15:37

  down

  I cannot feel the ground beneath my feet

  so

  I let her guide me

  knowing she is mindful of all above us

  below us and

  around us

  she keeps our distance from garden walls

  15:38

  we drop

  wait

  walk

  15:41

  drop

  wait

  walk

  15:42

  drop

  15:42

  wait

  walk

  15:44

  a brick crashes near us

  like the wall threw it

  15:48

  everything feels like it’s spinning

  15:49

  15:52

  it’s all a blur

  15:54

  15:54

  15:55

  until

  we make it to the fields

  15:57

  we drop

  Great-grandfather is sitting behind the tiller

  he waves to us

  he’s okay

  we’re okay

  we move on

  near the park

  15:59

  tree limbs and

  electrical wires flap

  we wait

  to head toward our gates

  16:00

  I feel I am floating

  16:01

  16:03

  my feet never

  16:03

  touch

  16:03

  16:04

  the

  16:04

  ground

  until

  we reach our porch

  we step over something

  dark, crumbled

  the swallows’ nest

  smashed when it crashed

  from the eaves

  Grandmother says, take care

  hugs me and

  heads next door

  I drop my school indoor shoes

  push out of outdoor shoes

  into slippers (in case of broken glass)

  run to the living-dining room

  16:09

  the pendant light is circling the table

  everything is in place

  except

  Mother is under the table

  typing

  e-mailing

  texting

  Skyping

  helping foreign clients

  she looks up

  shouts,

  come!

  16:10

  I drop down

  take cover beside her and

  hold on to her

  she hugs me

  and

  says,

  glad you’re home

  there’s no cell phone call service

  Father hasn’t answered her texts or e-mails

  but she knows

  he’s okay

  he always forgets to charge his battery

  his building is new

  earthquake proof

  far from the bay

  we’re not getting the worst of it

  she switches on the TV

  the TV is stable

  anchored to the wall

  at the top of the screen

  a map of Japan flashes

  tsunami warnings

  for

  all

  eastern coasts

  we are secure under the table

  miles from the epicenter

  miles from Tokyo Bay

  we are safe from the ocean

  newscasters are reporting updates

  16:12

  their floor groans

  their desk rocks

  16:12

  their chairs tumble

  16:12

  they struggle to sit up

  the camera cuts to a map

  showing the epicenter of the quake

  northeast

  far from us

  then cuts to footage of

  water spilling over a seawall up north

  news offices shaking

  a fire raging at an oil refinery near Tokyo

  they tell us to take care about aftershocks

  and home fires

  16:13

  everything rattles there

  16:13

  our TV

  the camera goes back to newscasters

  they are wearing helmets!

  16:14

  they are shaken but try to remain calm

  16:16

  16:17

  16:20

  Earth pushes

  16:25

  rolls

  16:28

  hard

  with each move

  I see

  hear and

  feel

  every board in this house

  flex and

  bend

  braces, adhesives, and cabinet doors

  keep our things

  in place

  but

  16:30

  the house

  16:31

  never

  16:31

  16:32

  seems

  16:33

  to

  16:35

  stop

  16:38

  spinning

  the landline telephone rings

  Father is okay

  he says

  they’re checking the building

  so

  he’s not at his computer

  his cell phone battery is dead

  so

  he can’t text

  so

  he had to stand in line to use a pay phone

  he asks about everyone and

  house damage

  Mother says everyone

  everything is okay

  electricity

  water pipes

  gas lines

  when I tell him the only thing knocked down is the swallows’ nest

  he says, they will rebuild it

  but this house shakes a lot like it’s going to fall

  he tells me wooden houses are built to move

  our house is new and

  built well but

  tells me to stay under the table or

  to go to the fields if I’m worried

  and

  reminds me what we all know:

  to be mindful of falling roof tiles

  garden walls

  electrical lines, etc.

  all trains have stopped and

  bus lines are unsure

  rails and roads need to be inspected for damage

  bec
ause Earth is moving

  he will walk home

  and call on the way

  if he finds a pay phone

  be careful,

  we tell each other

  Mother runs out to the fields

  mindful of everything

  to tell Grandmother

  Father is okay

  I sit at the table

  Earth is not moving

  or is it?

  16:42

  the pendant light swirls

  16:43

  16:44

  then jerks

  my phone dings from its drawer

  Mother tells me to get the charger too

  to keep it charged

  to be ready

  in case we lose electricity

  Yuka texts

  no cram school today

  my response

  describes how I feel

  freaked out

  dizzy

  16:45

  swirling is not any

  16:47

  better than

  16:49

  shakes

  16:49

  17:00

  17:01

  17:03

  17:04

  17:07

  17:10

  17:12

  we are safe

  17:15

  17:15

  17:16

  17:19

  under the table

  17:27

  17:27

  17:28

  17:31

  17:32

  17:35

  17:35

  17:38

  17:40

  17:40

  no crashing

  17:43

  17:54

  17:58

  18:04

  18:06

  18:19

  18:20

  18:37

  18:38

  18:55

  18:57

  19:10

  19:15

  19:19

  19:20

  smashing or

  19:35

  leaking

  19:36

  19:45

  19:46

  20:00

  20:03

  20:07

  20:10

  20:13

  20:16

  20:20

  is

  20:36

  20:41

  20:44

  20:46

  THIS

  20:56

  21:00

  21:13

  21:15

  21:24

  21:35

  21:49

  really

  21:56

  21:59

  22:00

  22:03

  22:14

  22:15

  22:16

  22:34

  22:47

  22:56

  23:00

  real?

  23:31

  23:44

  23:53

  23:56

  I into a heap

  23:57

  23:58

  DAY 2

  00:06

  00:07

  00:13

  am I awake?

  00:15

  00:19

  is the ground moving?

  00:22

  00:24

  00:32

  00:42

  yes

  00:53

  02:05

  02:08

  02:17

  02:23

  02:30

  03:11

  again

  03:17

  03:44

  and again

  03:45

  03:59

  and again

  did I sleep through some?

  04:02

  04:02

  04:08

  04:24

  am I dreaming?

  04:26

  04:31

  04:31

  04:45

  04:46

  04:58

  05:11

  05:23

  05:25

  05:34

  I want to be dreaming

  06:34

  06:48

  under the table

  I wake exhausted

  Mother is beside me at work

  typing

  e-mailing

  comforting

  advising

  helping

  her foreign clients on

  her laptop plugged into the extension cord

  next to her

  sits

  the landline telephone and

  next to me

  sits

  an empty noodle cup

  I don’t remember eating

  I remember Grandmother checking on us

  bringing pickles

  filling the hot-water pot

  I don’t remember hearing the telephone ring or

  Mother talking to Father

  a shopkeeper let him use his telephone

  she says

  he left the office later than he wanted

  and

  started home later than he wanted

  he’s okay

  and still on his way

  Earth does not move

  through breakfast

  I put away our cereal bowls and

  sit to finish my tea

  my mug wobbles

  sloshes

  07:36

  falls over

  I grab it

  dart under the table

  tea runs

  spills

  drips over the edge

  I stay under the table

  clutching my mug

  08:59

  ding

  a text from Yuka

  09:00

  all is still shaky but okay

  (some broken dishes)

  at her house

  Yuka can’t text much

  she has to pay attention

  to stay on her toes

  to be ready

  me too, I text

  she sends

  I text later

  no emoji shows my feeling

  09:01

  I don’t

  09:02

  feel

  09:03

  like

 

‹ Prev