She could taste it when she swallowed.
Pattie came through the door of the apartment and saw Quang-ha at the table doing his homework.
He was never at the table doing his homework.
He was always watching TV.
But he barely looked up as she came in.
He didn’t say a thing.
Pattie noticed that his foot was twitching. Back and forth. Not shaking, but close.
She looked down the hall.
Mai was in her room on the upper bunk bed. She had her face close to the wall and the cat held tight to her chest.
So they knew.
Pattie went down the hall and stood in the doorway.
“We’re going to figure it all out.”
She walked to the bed and put her hand on her daughter’s silky head of hair.
“It’s temporary.”
Suddenly Quang-ha’s voice could be heard. He was loud.
“That’s what you say about everything. Temporary. Well, if you do something long enough, you don’t get to use that word anymore.”
Pattie went back to the living room and stood in front of her son. Mai appeared behind her.
Quang-ha looked up at both of them. His eyes were large and defiant.
But his voice was like a small boy’s, not a teenage kid’s.
“We shouldn’t let her go.”
Pattie put her arm around her son and they stayed that way for a long time.
Mai came over and leaned against them.
Outside, the gusts picked up. A window was open in the kitchen and they could hear a sound. It was different. It was something new to add to the mix of street noise and people.
It was the bamboo in the new garden.
They could hear the rustling of a thousand leaves.
Dell woke in the middle of the night.
He tried to get back to sleep but tossed and turned so many times it started to feel like exercise.
At 2:47 he was worn out, but still wide-awake, so he got up.
He stayed in his sweatpants and T-shirt, but pulled on his shoes and a windbreaker.
He then went downstairs to the courtyard.
It was cold out and he could see his breath as he made his way to the coiled green hose.
Standing in the light of a partial moon, he watched the water come out in gushes of icy silver.
And even though he was freezing cold, Dell took his time watering Willow’s new garden.
The honeysuckle vines were taller than him now, and as he looked them over, he realized that one of the buds was beginning to open.
He knew for certain that it would be magnificent.
Chapter 57
Iopen my eyes. I can hear Mai’s soft breathing above me in the bunk bed, but otherwise the apartment is silent.
That’s unusual. The world of Pattie Nguyen is always noisy.
Meals are always being cooked, dishes washed, the vacuum or shower running.
But not now.
Because it’s really early.
Dell took me to dinner last night to Happy Greens, which is a vegetarian restaurant.
He was trying to cheer me up.
He told me that they were working on some kind of arrangement.
When we got back to the Gardens, I did my best to look happy.
I look at the clock. It is 4:27 A.M.
Quang-ha is asleep on the couch.
The shades in the living room are drawn on the two windows facing the street.
The full moon is right above the skylight and the glow is enough to cast little shadows on the carpet.
In the past I saw these shapes as hopeful.
Now they appear to be stains.
I take my pillow and the fuzzy blanket from my bed and I go sit in the bathroom.
A few minutes later, Cheddar slinks in. He curls up on the edge of the blanket and falls asleep leaning against my back.
There is a window in here, and from my position in the corner on the cold tiles I watch the sunrise bathe the world in orange light.
Stars littering an endless Bakersfield sky begin to dim.
I close my eyes.
And finally, as I drift back to sleep, the screen of my mind fills with hummingbirds.
They understand the importance of motion.
I wake up a few hours later and have no idea where I am.
It takes a moment (which feels like eternity but is in reality less than a second) to process that I’m in the bathroom, and that I won’t live at the Gardens of Glenwood after today.
That’s the thing about time.
A second can feel like forever if what follows is heartbreak.
I am very, very tired, but I take a shower and wash my hair.
I let it dry the way it wants to, which is in a mass of dark curls.
I’m not pulling it back or putting it in a braid or getting it under control.
It is what it is.
I am what I am.
I put on my old gardening outfit.
I put the acorn that Mai gave me into my pocket.
Maybe it will be lucky. I’ve gotten this far. That says something.
I’m not going to wear my red hat, because I’ll be indoors.
But I will carry it with me because red is a lucky color, and very important in the natural world.
It is business as usual at breakfast.
I take a banana, which is covered in brown spots.
It looks like the skin of a giraffe.
I wish that I were old enough to just go live in the Amazon and study the plants there, because it is possible that one of them holds the key to the cure for cancer.
But the obstacles are insurmountable.
I don’t even have a passport.
We are trying to eat when Dell comes down the hall earlier than usual.
He and Pattie say they are getting something from the car and they go to the carport.
I’m certain that they are talking about my situation.
They come back up after a few minutes and only say that we have to leave or Mai will be late for the first bell.
I ask Pattie what will happen at the hearing.
She says that I shouldn’t worry.
I don’t think this is much of an answer.
Who wouldn’t be worried?
But what’s worse is I know her now. I spend a big part of every day with her. And so I can see by the expression on her face that she’s worried too.
Mai wants to go to the hearing in the courthouse this afternoon.
I say to her:
“You don’t have to be there. You’re supposed to be in school. I’m ready for this now. I’m stronger.”
And then I get up and go to the bathroom.
Only minutes later, Lenore arrives.
Pattie says that this isn’t good-bye.
It’s
That means “see you later.”
I say:
“Yes. I will see you all later.”
I’ve got to get out of here before there is too much drama.
I hug Mai and I try to be brave, mostly because she’s falling apart for the two of us.
She’s always the toughest person in the room, but with me leaving, her armor cracks.
I hug Dell and then I hug Pattie. I give Quang-ha a nod.
Then I turn to Cheddar.
He’s sitting on the back of the couch and he’s watching. I was going to go say good-bye to him. That was my plan. But now I can’t do that.
I turn away.
And I hear the bell on his collar ring.
The only thing I can think to say is:
“Please water the plants in the courtyard. Especially the pittosporum. I’ll be over to
check on the garden as soon as I can.”
I hear Mai heading out of the room, moving down the hallway. She can’t take it.
I turn back just before I leave the apartment. Cheddar is under the speckles of colored light from the broken glass on the rooftop.
It makes his face all wobbly.
Or maybe it’s just what he looks like through tears.
I climb into Lenore’s car and I look up at the building.
I see Cheddar now in the window.
I whisper:
“Good-bye.”
I did not say good-bye to my mom or my dad. I never got to do that. They were here and then they were gone.
Does saying good-bye matter?
Does it really end something?
I didn’t hug them that morning when I left to go to school.
That’s why I don’t want to go back there.
I can handle the other kids and the teachers and everything about it but the memory.
I can’t be in that place, because every time I allow myself to think about my last day there, I fall apart. I break loose from this world.
I fly into a million pieces.
I am worried about Quang-ha.
I know that he has lots of homework this week. I hope that he at least attempts to do some of it.
And then there is Dell. Will he go back to putting things in closets? Will he return to staring out the window and waiting for his life to begin?
Will Pattie keep working so hard? I know for a fact that those fumes from the nail polish are bad for her.
I realize now that I’m worrying about all of them.
It’s better than worrying about myself.
This is one of the secrets that I have learned in the last few months.
When you care about other people, it takes the spotlight off your own drama.
Chapter 58
I’m in a large room with five other girls at Jamison.
We all have hearings today.
Four of the five girls are sleeping. Or at least pretending to.
The fifth girl is talking on a cell phone.
I have my computer with me, and after I ask three times, the woman at the front desk gives me the wireless password.
No one else has a computer. I feel bad using mine, but the other girls don’t seem to care.
Everyone in this room is in her own bubble of unhappiness, and there’s not a lot of sharing.
I’m grateful for that.
Since I have access to the wireless code, I decide to take a look at the Jamison system.
This system is of course protected, but the firewall isn’t very secure. I’ve looked at a lot of code for electronic buffering.
It’s not a very sophisticated network, because I see the transport layer and recognize it immediately as something I’ve gotten through.
I’m thinking that not many hacker kids end up here.
I’m not a hacker kid, but I have potential in this area.
I get in right away.
I go to Lenore’s account.
When I look at her e-mail, I suddenly feel sorry for her.
She appears to be massively overworked. There is e-mail from juvenile court, from schools, from the police department.
Mountains of the stuff.
I see references to all kinds of medical documents. There are reports of physical abuse and criminal behavior.
I feel sick now.
In a new way.
I really shouldn’t be reading these things.
It’s all too personal and it’s not about me and what I’m doing is wrong.
I have Dell’s work files on my computer.
I transferred everything when I put together his laptop, but I never actually looked at any of the stuff.
Now I open one of his files called DDSS. And I read:
Dell Duke System of the Strange
1 = MISFIT
2 = ODDBALL
3 = LONE WOLF
4 = WEIRDO
5 = GENIUS
6 = DICTATOR
7 = MUTANT
There are many names in most of the categories.
I go through them.
Quang-ha is a lone wolf. And Pattie is a dictator. I see that Mai is a junior dictator.
Then I see that for MUTANT there is only one name.
Dell Duke has listed himself.
At first, I’m appalled.
But then I realize he’s only trying to make sense of the world.
He’s looking for a way to put things in categories.
He’s seeing people as different species.
Of course, he’s wrong.
All of us are all of those things. I’m no genius. I’m as much of a lone wolf or a misfit or a weirdo as anyone.
When it came to the garden, I was a dictator.
If there is anything I’ve figured out in the last months it’s that you can find labels to organize living things, but you can’t put people in any kind of group or order.
It just doesn’t work that way.
I close my computer, and in only a handful of minutes a woman comes into the room to tell us that lunch is being served.
I’m not hungry, but I follow the group to the dining area.
They don’t have much of a selection for vegetarians, but I pick my way through a salad and some spinach with alarmingly bright orange-colored cheese sauce.
At least I think it’s cheese sauce.
It seems better not to ask.
Everyone else sitting at my table is having a hot dog.
When we are finished they bring us each a bowl of vanilla ice cream with sprinkles on top.
The girl next to me starts to cry when she sees the sprinkles.
I’m wondering if she’s worried about the long-term side effects of consuming artificial food coloring.
It’s a valid concern.
But I decide she’s not crying about that, because she has a horrible burn on her arm and she picks at it as she weeps.
The burn is the size of a cherry.
I get a bad feeling in my stomach thinking that someone did this to her.
Maybe that’s even why she’s here.
I shut my eyes and do my best to imagine I’m back in the new garden.
And before I know it, my ice-cream bowl looks like soup.
And the colored sprinkles have all sunk.
Lenore comes to get me. She says that she likes the way my hair looks today.
It hasn’t changed since she picked me up, so she might just be trying to think of something positive to say to me.
But I smile anyway.
I realize that it’s a true smile.
I will go forward into the world and do my best to be the daughter that my parents would have wanted me to be.
I’m not brave; it’s just that all other choices have been thrown out the window.
Lenore takes me to see the grief counselor (whose name is Mrs. Bode-Ernst).
Sitting in her office I realize that I’m not afraid.
Of anything.
Exactly 7 letters.
Just a coincidence.
Not long ago, I had a lot of fear.
Now it feels like there’s not a lot left to be afraid about.
Lenore says:
“Today is all just procedure. You will see the judge in private. He might ask some questions. There is paperwork to be signed.”
Mrs. Bode-Ernst smiles and I understand that she’s thinking this is good news.
Or maybe she is just smiling to be encouraging.
I don’t share her optimism.
The grief counselor says:
“The beginning of anything is hard. I know you’ve been through a lot
. We’re going to get you in school. And you’ll make all kinds of new friends. Before you know it, you are going to be right back in the swing of things.”
I think about telling her that my school experience was never that great, and besides Margaret Z. Buckle, I didn’t have close friends until I met Mai and Quang-ha and lived at the Gardens of Glenwood.
But I don’t want to upset her.
How could she know that I never had that kind of swing?
Lenore and I return to her car.
She explains that the judge will take legal responsibility for me.
I’m hoping that it will be a woman and a person of color who sees me and understands that I’m different, even Strange (as Dell Duke figured out), but that I still have value.
The court will now call the shots.
I can tell that Lenore feels bad right now.
But none of this is her fault.
I want her to understand.
I want to tell her that I’m sorry. Instead, I reach over and touch her arm.
Just my fingertips.
After that, I don’t have to say anything. I can tell she understands.
I go into the girls’ bathroom in the courthouse.
I need a few minutes by myself.
The mirror in here is not made of glass.
It’s a polyester film coating made with aluminum stretched perfectly flat against a rectangular board.
So you can’t break this mirror.
I’m guessing they think that people who end up here don’t need any more bad luck.
I open my mouth and stare.
Because my skin is dark, my teeth look very white. They are straight and I think a good size.
But they are permanent teeth.
There’s no hiding it.
I shut my eyes.
I can see my always-smiling mother and my strong father.
I hear their words voiced in so many ways, since as early as I can remember, trying to protect me.
Were they too worried about me to look out for themselves?
Or is life so filled with random action that the very notion of caution is futile?
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