of her remember what it was.
She took her robe from its hook inside the closet door and put it on.
Her parents usually used this day to shop for supplies, to work around the house. Sue read, watched TV, or did her own shopping, although she invariably felt guilty that she was not doing something more productive. In the two years she'd been out of school, she had still not adjusted to the fact that her free time was truly free, that there was no homework hanging over her head, no assignments or projects due.
She kept wanting to work on something, and she'd considered trying to write, trying to paint, trying to do something creative, but instead she'd let herself become lazy, doing nothing with her days except hanging out.
Was this what life was like for most people? Drifting, merely existing? It all seemed so pointless and purposeless. She'd worked so hard to do well in school, to learn, to get good grades, and where had it gotten her?
In Cantonese, her mother yelled for John to come to breakfast.
Sue, too, headed down the hall toward the kitchen, bumping into her brother along the way.
'Watch it, retard,' he said, bumping her with his hip in return.
'Die,' she told him.
They walked into the dining room. Three bowls were already set on the table. Her mother, who had obviously assumed that Sue would sleep in today, was surprised to see her but hurriedly returned to the kitchen and brought out another bowl.
'What about Grandmother?' Sue asked in CantOnese. 'Isn't she eating?'
'She is not feeling well,' her mother said as she placed the bowl on the table She did not elaborate but returned immediately to the kitchen. That worried Sue. Usually, if her grandmother was ill, her mother would describe in detail the predse nature of her malady, whether it be toh se or tao tung. Her mother's silence made Sue feel uneasy, and she could not help thinking of what her grandmother had muttered last night before settling painfully into bed. Wai.
Badness.
She had not been sure at the time whether her grand mother meant sickness or evil, and she had not asked. She had not wanted to know.
But she had a suspicion that her grandmother was not referring to physical illness. For the past few days, ever since the mechanic had been found in the arroyo, her grandmother had seemed worried and preoccupied, had spent more time than usual in her room, and when she'd spoken to the family at all, her conversation had been peppered with thinly veiled hints of signs and omens. While Sue often scoffed at the super stitiousness of the old woman, she was also more than a little afraid of what her grandmother called D/ Lo Ling Gum, the sixth sense.
She had never been able to satisfactorily explain to herself how her grandmother was able to tell when it was going to rain when even the weathermen did not know, or how she could predict with amazing accuracy the deaths of relatives who lived far away. She liked even less her grandmother's references to spirits and tse mog, demons, She remained standing as John sat down. Her father was already sitting at the head of the table but he had not yet spoken, and neither she nor John dared address him. He was not a morning person, and though he always awoke early, he seldom spoke before breakfast and never before his first cup of tea. He preferred to sit in undisturbed silence and listen to the news on the radio or, on Thursday, read the newspaper.
Looking at him now, at the way he stared crossly at nothing, she wondered if he even spoke to her mother before breakfast, or if the two of them simply woke up when the alarm went off, got out of bed silently, and got dressed without speaking.
It was a depressing thought, and she pushed it out of her mind.
John began drumming on the table with his spoon and fork as he waited for breakfast, pounding out the rhythm to some rock or rap song running through his mind. Sue walked into the kitchen to see if her mother needed help with the food. Her mother was just finishing scooping fried rice from the wok onto a plate, and she told Sue to get the teapot from the stove. Sue picked up the teapot, her mother picked up the plate, and the two of them walked into the dining room.
John looked up as they entered. He frowned when his mother put the plate on the table He put down his fork and spoon. 'How come we never have breakfast food for breakfast?' he asked in English ..... His father glared at him. 'Eat!
'I want pancakes or something. I don't want rice. We have rice every day. I'm sick of it'
'John .... ' Sue warned.
But the argument had already started, her mother joining her father in lecturing John on nutrition, telling him that he was ungrateful and disrespectful. The argument was bilingual, her parents speaking in Cantonese, her brother speaking in English in order to annoy his parents.
'When I'm eighteen,' John said finally, 'I'm getting an earring.'
'You are not. Be quiet and eat your food.'
John lapsed into silence, slumping down in his seat. Sue said nothing but scooped some fried rice onto her plate. She worried about her brother. Right now he was still young, and he still showed his parents some respect, but he was much more Americanized than even she was and much more than her parents understood. Her parents were going to have a very tough time with him in the next few years. He was going to want to do the same things his friends did, and he was going to chafe and right against the restrictions her parents would place on him. That's what concerned her. John was easily swayed, too concerned with fitting in, too worried about what his peers thought of him. She, too, had been torn between the two cultures, not feeling fully a part of either, but she had had enough self-confidence that she had done what she thought was right and had never succumbed to peer pressure. John was different.
'That's it,' he muttered under his breath. 'When I'm eighteen, I'm hitting the road.'
Neither of her parents heard his remark, and Sue just let it lie. She didn't want to inflame the situation even further.
John finished eating quickly and, without waiting to be excused, pushed his chair away from the table 'I gotta catch the bus,' he said. He ran down the hall to his bed room to get his books, and a moment later yelled, 'ByeI'
The door slammed behind him.
'Tieu pei, 'her father said, more to himself than anyone else.
Her mother finished eating, and she took her own and John's bowl to the kitchen. A few seconds later, the phone rang, and Sue heard her mother answer it. ' 'Lo?' There was a short moment of silence 'Sue?'
'Coming!' She pushed back her chair and hurried into the kitchen, taking the receiver from her mother. 'Yes'
'Sue, it's me.'
'Janine?'
'Yeah. My car died again this morning, and I have to be at work in five minutes' Her friend's words were rushed, her voice on the edge of panic 'I called Shelly, but her mom says she's not home Do you think you could get your dad's car and pick me up?'
'Sure. I'll be there in a few minutes. Where are you?
Home?' - :
'Yeah.' ........ 'Okay, I'll be right over.'
She asked her parents if she could borrow the car to take Janine to work. Her father said okay, but her mother said no, they had shopping to do. She explained that she'd be back in ten minutes, two hours before the grocery store even opened.
'The keys are on the dresser,' her father said. :
Before her mother could disagree, Sue hurried into her bedroom, put on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, grabbed the keys from her parents' room, and hurried out to the garage.
Janine worked at The Rocking D, a dude ranch situated at the foot of Poundcake Hill that catered to young rich couples from the Valley and out of state who liked to pre tend for a week or a weekend that they were living in the
Old West.
The Old West with swimming pools and cable TV.
