One afternoon Lenny asks him about his father, trying to find out what he was like as a kid. It takes a while, but Lenny finally conveys his question, and Gil sits and thinks about this while blowing smoke rings. He finally points to the house and makes a fist. “Abogee, daddy, uh…” He tries to think of a word, but shakes his head. Then Lenny gets an idea. He finds a Korean-English dictionary on his mother’s bookshelf and hands it to Gil, who smiles. He flips through it and says, “Your daddy… tough.”
Later, Lenny’s mother explains more. She and Gil have talked, and she learns that Yul used to punish Gil by making him lift a wheelbarrow and carry it across the yard. If Gil dropped it he wouldn’t be allowed to sleep in the house.
“Where was their father? Their mother?”
“Your grandfather was never home. He was a smuggler.”
Lenny had forgotten about that, the stories of his grandfather smuggling opium into Korea. “And their mother?”
“I don’t know. They don’t talk about her very much. I think she was also hard on them. They were a hard family. You have to remember that about your father, how he is. It’s all he knows.”
Lenny can’t imagine his father as a kid, but he can see Gil as a child, because of the tentative and awkward way he seems to deal with everyone, including Lenny. Gil has trouble looking people in the eye. He talks to peoples’ feet, mumbling in a low voice. But his timidity annoys Yul, who barks at him, and Gil straightens his posture. Yul’s tone is tinged with disgust whenever Lenny overhears him talking about his brother, and Lenny begins to feel sorry for Gil.
Handy with tools, Gil helps with a few household repairs, including fixing the garage door, which often sticks, and cleaning out the gutters. Yul inspects these the same way he inspects Lenny’s yard work—Lenny notices a similar glimmer of hostility in Gil’s eyes.
One afternoon Lenny hears them arguing in the garage. Gil’s voice is characteristically quiet and subdued, but there’s an edge to it, an insistence that angers his father, who speaks in clipped tones. Lenny doesn’t know what they’re saying, but Gil loses his temper, raising his voice.
Yul replies, and Lenny hears the garage door opening. His father storms back to the house, gathers Gil’s bag and clothes, and throws them out the front door. His father then sits in the living room and turns on the stereo. Lenny goes outside through the garage and sees Gil picking up his clothes and packing them angrily in the small duffel bag. His face is flushed. When he sees Lenny he takes a deep breath, and lights up a cigarette. He asks, “Taxi? Bus? Where?”
“You can get one at the train station,” Lenny says, pointing beyond the church. “Train.”
Gil nods his head, understanding. He hesitates. He sticks out his hand to shake. “Goodbye,” he says.
“Goodbye.” Lenny shakes his hand, which is covered in rough calluses.
Gil inhales the cigarette, turns and walks down the street. Lenny never sees him again.
29
Umee passes the real estate broker exam, but continues to work as a receptionist and secretary while she trains with her boss. Yul, pleased for her, celebrates with a bottle of wine with dinner, imagining aloud that she will tap into the Korean market and then set up her own firm in New York, where rich Koreans will use her services to buy investment property.
But Umee quickly dismisses this, saying that all she wants is a good, steady job.
“No vision, no d-dreams,” Yul says scornfully.
“Like a candy store in the middle of nowhere?”
They are eating at the kitchen table, and the small radio on the shelf plays the local classical station. Everyone falls quiet as Yul considers this retort. The announcer on the station comes on in his soothing, deep voice, and Mira and Lenny exchange glances. They know they will be leaving the table any minute.
Yul says, “It would’ve worked if the economy was b-better and you did a b-better job.”
Umee then does something uncharacteristic. Lenny expects her to spit something back, or to shut down, but instead she puts her glass of wine carefully on the table and looks coolly at Yul. She says, “Blame me all you want. Everyone knows the truth.” She motions her head toward the kids, which surprises Lenny.
Yul reverts to Korean, his voice threatening. But Umee isn’t fazed. She shrugs a shoulder and replies. Her reaction also seems to confuse Yul, and when Mira and Lenny ask to be excused he waves them away. Yul and Umee begin to talk quietly in Korean, and the strength with which Umee handles her husband is so interesting to Lenny that he sits on the steps to the basement, the door closed, so he can eavesdrop. He doesn’t know precisely what they’re saying, but his mother seems to be laying out an argument slowly and carefully, bullet points for his father to consider. His father listens for a while and then replies in a tired voice. Lenny hears his father’s chair scraping the floor as he leaves the table. He walks to the bedroom and closes the door.
Lenny emerges from the basement stairwell as his mother clears the table. He asks her what happened. She blinks rapidly, her expression disbelieving. She says, “I told him I hired a divorce lawyer. I want him to move out soon.”
Based on the advice in the pamphlets, Sal and Lenny harvest some leaves and growing shoots. Although the main goal is the final harvest, especially the buds, which is approaching more quickly that Sal had thought—the ideal weather, the swampy soil, and the strain of cannabis all contribute to this—Sal needs to sample some of the new growths for the potency. He dries the leaves in his oven when his parents aren’t home, and rolls a joint. Because he’s worried about the smell, he smokes it in the woods. He says, “I’d offer you some, but I think you’re too young.”
“I think I should try a little.”
He hands Lenny the joint, who never smoked anything before, and because of his soft palate problems he has trouble inhaling without leaking air in through his nose. Sal laughs at his difficulty, and finally Lenny holds his nose to suck in the smoke. It burns his throat, and he has a coughing fit.
“I know. It could be smoother.”
“People do this for fun?” Lenny gags.
“A bong would cool off the smoke, but the leaves are harsh. I’m going to experiment with curing, because that’s supposed to help. Slow drying too.”
Lenny’s eyes water, and he hands the joint back to him. “I don’t feel anything.”
“You probably won’t, not the first few times. I’m feeling it.”
Lenny studies him. He seems no different than usual. It occurs to him that maybe Sal is often stoned. They sit on the edge of the concrete run-off, a small stream of water splashing into the creek, brown and yolk-colored foam congealing near their feet. The sweetness of the marijuana covers up the rot smell of the swamp.
He tells Lenny he’s found the model of motorcycle he wants, and will probably buy it used, once he sells the bulk of the crop. He says, “I already have buyers for most of it. Not guaranteed or anything, but I know a bunch of dealers who can handle a quarter or half pound.”
They haven’t talked about Lenny’s payment since he first started working with Sal. Lenny says, “I’ve done a lot so far.”
Sal smiles and nods his head. “Your base payment is still three hundred dollars, but there’s going to be a bonus, no doubt. It all depends on how much usable weed we harvest and how much I can get for it. I promise you that I won’t screw you over. Just with the mail order stuff you’ve probably helped me make better weed.”
“Okay.”
“You’re going to have a lot of cash for a kid. What are you going to do with it?”
“Save it. Most of it.”
“Good. You should open a bank account. Do you have one?”
“My father opened one for me. There’s only twenty dollars in it.”
“Watch out for that. My friend had a joint account with his dad, and his dad emptied it out.”
Lenny didn’t think of that.
Sal says, “I also want a small boat. I’m thinking about taking a boat license
course. You want to take one with me?”
“Maybe.”
“It’s to certify us to pilot a boat without adults. They’re giving the course at the Freeport Recreation center. Think about it.”
They sit quietly while Sal continues smoking his joint.
Lenny tells him that his parents are getting a divorce.
“Oh, man. You going to move or what?”
“I don’t know.”
“Here. Try another hit.” He hands Lenny the joint. This time Lenny sucks the smoke into his mouth, and then inhales that with air, and it goes down more smoothly. He still coughs, but not as badly.
Lenny passes the joint back. They hear the cars on Sunrise Highway above them, the babbling water below, and as he takes a deep hit, the ember sizzling, Lenny hears a train approaching. He finds a sense of calm settling through him.
Lenny sighs contentedly.
Sal says, “Yup.”
Lenny still does the yard work at the house to pay for the dent repair, but after well over a month of this he suspects his father is taking advantage of him. His father wakes Lenny up in the morning with a list of tasks, including mowing the lawn, trimming the hedges, and weeding the grassy area along the sidewalk. Lenny tells him he mowed last week, and his father says, “The lawn grows. Time to mow it again.”
“I think I’ve paid for the dent by now.”
“I don’t think so.”
“How much did it cost?”
“Two hundred dollars.”
“I’ve mowed and trimmed and weeded and raked twice a week for a month and a half, even more. I think I’ve paid for it.”
“Now that Ed is gone, you are responsible for the yard.”
“Why don’t you do it?”
He says, “You stupid little b-boy. You will do what I say.”
Lenny sits on his bed. His father put his hands on his hips, waiting for a response. Lenny wonders what his life will be like when his parents split up. He says, “I am going to call up landscaping businesses to find out how much they charge. If it looks like I’ve done more than $200 of work, then I am going to start charging you.”
His father is about to reply, but stops. He smiles. “You are getting smarter. That’s good b-business sense. Starting next week if you take care of all the yard work I will p-pay you an allowance.”
“How much?”
“Three dollars a week.”
“That’s all?”
“If you p-pass inspection and I don’t have to remind you every time, then four dollars a week.”
“How about five?”
“Don’t get greedy.”
His sister tells him of a garage sale nearby, so they go together that afternoon, and while she searches for a new record player Lenny examines one of two TV’s for sale—an old black and white, and a small color TV. Neither is right for his room, but while browsing the books he finds a bin full of Radio Electronics and Popular Science magazines. In one issue of Radio Electronics are plans, including a parts list and detailed instructions, for how to build a telephone eavesdropping device. His heart starts beating quickly. The older woman tending the sale wears a flowing glittery wrap and scarf, her hair beaded. She lookes surprised that Lenny wants to buy a box of magazines, and accepts his offer for two dollars. She says, “You Orientals like engineering, I guess.”
This startles him. He doesn’t know how to reply to that, and just hands her the two dollars. Mira is disappointed that there’s nothing for her to buy.
But when they return home she surprises him with a gift. It’s a small smooth rock that has been painted yellow, with a face of a bear on the front. “What is it?” he asks.
“Pet rock.”
“You paid for this?”
“A dollar.”
“You paid a dollar for a rock? Are you joking?”
She blinks, her expression hurt. “It’s a present.”
“How could you waste money like that?” He’s about to throw the rock out the window, but stops. Mira looks like she’s about to cry. He realizes how mean he’s being and quickly says, “You know what? It’s cool. I like it. Thanks.”
“I got it for you.”
“I know. It’s great. I’m sorry. I like it a lot. Really I do.”
She turns away without speaking and walks to her room.
Lenny holds the rock in his hand, cursing himself for not being more thoughtful. He vows to keep this rock forever and make sure he’s careful about other peoples’ feelings. He looks at the bear and says, “You will keep me from being mean.”
30
Harvest time for the marijuana coincides with Lenny’s father’s fading from their lives. Sal has already taken the males, cutting them down before their flowers open, but now the females are in full bloom; according to the pamphlets the buds are their most potent as the flowering slows, so it’s time. Sal dries the males in the crawlspace, but he worries he doesn’t have enough room for the more important females. The males hang upside down on string, a small fan blowing air around them to prevent molding.
They work at night, because they have to carry three heavy burlap bags, large and suspicious looking. Sal has a make-shift trailer—just a large piece of plywood with baby-stroller wheels attached—that he hooks onto the back of his minibike, and they tie down the bags with bungie cords.
It’s three in the morning, and both of them are exhausted from cutting and carrying the plants through the woods, worrying about cops. He starts up the engine, and they cringe at the noise. He says, “Hurry up. Get on.”
Lenny climbs onto the back, and Sal pulls forward, glancing over his shoulder at the trailer. It shudders and clatters behind them, but seems secure. Sal tells Lenny to keep a sharp lookout, but the streets are empty. He speeds back to his house, killing the engine before he reaches the driveway, and they coast into his back yard. Moving quickly, they bring the three huge burlap bags into this crawlspace, though there really isn’t any room. The drying males crisscross the low ceiling, and the smell makes Lenny’s eyes water.
“We’ll leave this here and deal with it tomorrow,” Sal says, opening the burlap bags to air the plants out.
“How will you dry all this?”
“Do you think we can use your attic?”
Lenny hesitates. “I don’t know.”
“You said no one goes up there.”
“But getting it there will be hard. My mom stays up late in the kitchen, and my sister is around a lot.”
“You can do it a little at a time. It’s going to take a couple weeks to dry all this out anyway. Every day just bring a few plants, string them up to dry. Make sure there’s ventilation.”
“There is. It still gets hot up there, though.”
“Start tonight. Be really careful with these. The oils on here have all the THC. If they get rubbed off, we lose it.” He carefully wraps three plants in cheesecloth, and hand them to Lenny, who is too tired to argue. He cradles them in his arms, and walks home.
The moon shines brightly down as he presses his nose close to the plants and inhales them. The sweet smell has become familiar and comforting to him. Although he has smoked some more since that first time, he doesn’t particularly like it, especially since it seems to aggravate his allergies, and inhaling is difficult with his nasal problems. It also does something strange to the back of his eyeballs, making them feel as if they’re bulging. But he likes the idea that he can grow something natural and sell it for money.
Instead of bringing the plants into the attic in the middle of the night, which he knows will make noise throughout the house, he strings them up in his closet, throwing his coats and shirts onto the floor. Tomorrow he’ll figure out how to use the attic once everyone goes to work. Maybe he’ll send his sister on an errand to keep her out of the house.
Lenny looks at the clock: it’s almost four a.m. He’s so tired he collapses on his bed in his clothes, the smell of marijuana on his fingertips, and falls asleep.
Lenny’s mother gives him updat
es about the impending divorce—Yul hired a lawyer, and they’re negotiating the terms, including the division of property, assets and the house. Umee just wants out of the marriage, so she surrenders more than she should have. She’s close to selling her first house as a newly minted Real Estate Broker, and is confident that she can support her children without their father. But she worries about their college fund. “I will fight for that,” she tells Lenny.
But his father still lives at home, and the strange détente that exists between them gives the house a muted, awkward feel. Lenny’s mother spends most of her time at the kitchen table, while his father stays out of the house, sometimes for a couple of days at a time. When he returns, he drinks in the living room and then slumps off to bed. Lenny’s mother sleeps on the sofa.
Yul becomes morose and withdrawn, but it’s the knowledge of his departure that emboldens Lenny. He no longer maintains the yard, and when his father tells Lenny that he isn’t going to pay the agreed allowance, Lenny shrugs it off. When his father asks Lenny to shine his shoes, Lenny refuses. His father looks as if he’s about to yell, but after a moment stops himself. He turns away without saying anything.
He leaves boxes of files and computer books stacked in the basement office as he slowly packs his belongings. Lenny snoops through the paperwork and amidst the bills and delinquent notices, he finds a file of receipts, including one from an auto body shop for a dent repair, dated shortly after Lenny dinged the car with the ladder. The total cost for the repair was sixty-five dollars. Lenny studies this, angry that his father had lied about the cost of the repair and made Lenny work more than he should have. Lenny wants to confront his father with it, but knows he’s drunk right now.
Lenny walks up into the kitchen, stewing at the fact that he’d been cheated by his own father, when he calls out to Lenny, telling him to bring some ice. Lenny ignores him. He calls Lenny again, and Lenny says, “Get it yourself.”
Lenny hears him move off the couch and walk toward the kitchen. Lenny slips out through the garage, and hurries along the side of the house, hearing him call out again.
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