Red Butterfly Page 10
eye,
force a smile
that’s meant
to convince Mama
I’m okay.
I think of Mama
when the light flashes
so bright I blink,
think of Mama
when Toby says,
Great shot,
and leans to show me
myself on the screen:
a girl
too skinny
with long,
unbrushed
hair
and
no smile
to be seen.
I thought
I was
smiling.
How Far?
Can I ride my bike
from Tampa
to Bozeman?
Toby laughs.
No idea,
never studied American geography.
We look at the world map
on the wall
in the empty office,
Toby and I
combing the whole USA
with our gaze.
It takes awhile
to find Montana
way up north.
Easier to find Florida
in the south.
So many boxes
in between
with names I can’t pronounce, like:
Alabama
Mississippi
Oklahoma
Kansas . . .
I imagine mountains
and mountains
and mountains
between them
and my hope
flops.
I thought
I could live in Tampa
and ride my bike to Bozeman
on the weekends.
Delay
Toby wants to hear me sing
“Away in a Manger”
just like I’ll sing it
in the Christmas show.
After I sing
he says,
Not bad.
You can hold a tune.
But he looks
distracted.
Hey, do you mind
if we walk?
He starts off
fast
before I can answer.
We round the
main building
three times,
me running,
Toby’s short legs
going like engine pieces
right
left
right.
Finally he says
quickly,
without looking at me,
I’m afraid your foster parents’ actions
have mucked things up a bit.
Chinese officials have to travel to
America to meet with this congressman.
It’ll take a while to decide
who you’ll go to.
The Gurnseys were ready to come to China
to bring you home
before this happened.
I shove my cold hands
in my pockets,
imagining those big-smile people
crossing the ocean
to take me away.
I say,
But maybe now Mama and Daddy
can take me to Bozeman.
Toby takes a deep breath
and blows it out again.
I don’t know if contacting their congressman
will do any good,
to be honest.
All it’s managed to do
is slow the whole process,
keep you here longer.
How much longer?
I ask.
Toby shakes his head.
He doesn’t know,
nobody does.
I stop at the bathroom,
stand in the farthest stall
from the door,
fumble in my coat pocket
where I stuffed the picture
of the Gurnsey family.
They’re still
smiling
smiling
smiling
strangers.
Newspaper Star
Toby rushes into the classroom
where I’m doodling
on lined paper
while the other table kids
write characters
row after row
after row.
Kara, look at this!
He lays a newspaper
covered in English writing
across the table.
The ayis lean in to look.
On the front cover
in big black letters it says:
BRING KARA HOME
There I am,
the picture Toby took with his camera.
Where did this come from?
I ask.
It came in the mail for you.
The director’s already looked it over.
There I am again,
with Daddy and Jody
in Hangzhou
on a stone bridge.
Daddy holds me,
my thin legs dangling like
puppet legs.
A smaller picture
shows us sitting together
on our living room sofa.
The familiarity of the painting
of limestone peaks in fog
hanging behind our heads,
even the diamond pattern on the old couch,
squeezes my heart with longing.
My hand holding the paper
shakes.
What does it say?
one of the ayis asks.
Even the other kids
look curious enough to speak.
The article says
how much my parents love me,
how much they want to bring me
home to America,
how difficult it is to adopt
because of
all the rules.
It even says Mama’s church
where she plays piano
is raising money
for my adoption.
“We’re going to make it,”
says a quote from Mama.
“We’re going to bring Kara home.
I can feel it.”
Dream
Tonight
I fall asleep
with the newspaper
under my pillow
so no one will take it,
and dream of blue sky
and a brand-new red bicycle
that can fly.
If You Were Me
If this were your choice,
who would you live with?
I ask Toby
the next day.
Toby is the safest
person in the world
to ask,
though sometimes he makes jokes.
Like right now:
I’ve heard the climate in
Florida is fantastic . . .
Toby!
I swat at him,
but he ducks away,
grinning.
All right.
He stops spoon-feeding
Lin Lin
for a moment.
I like it when his eyes
look faraway
because it means
something important
is about to come out of his mouth.
There are good things
about both families.
I know it’s hard to imagine,
but I think you’ll be happy
in either place
because you’re
a happy girl.
I’m feeding
Xiao Bo
porridge
with his favorite
red spoon,
wondering how Toby
can think
I’m a happy girl when
I’ve been so unhappy.
But I know Mama,
I say,
my throat constricting.
I
don’t know
those other people.
Toby nods.
Yes, but there are
new beginnings in every life.
As long as you’re loved
and safe,
Kara,
you’re home.
Hanging On
The Gurnseys send me
another letter.
I sit on the floor
in the hallway
to read it.
This one
does not have
even one single
exclamation point.
Dear Kara,
We wanted you to know why we are hanging on.
We don’t want to give up your file
unless we’re sure you
can be adopted by your former foster parents.
We want you to be happy,
but we don’t want to lose you
to anyone but them.
We’ll wait as long as we need to.
Love,
Marilyn & Keith Gurnsey
Truth
After reading the letter,
I sit still,
my back against the hallway wall,
thinking.
Truth
was never something
Mama gave me, but
here these strangers
hand me truth
when they don’t even know me,
as if I deserve it.
With Mama
I was always
too young,
not ready.
She sheltered me
until the shelter crashed down
on both our heads.
I show Toby the letter
and ask,
Is there any chance
for Mama?
Toby eases Lin Lin
into her special seat
and straps her in.
They might have made an exception
to the age rule
if your mum knew the right people.
But since she broke the law
it’ll be harder for her to argue her case.
Toby always
gives me truth.
It’s like medicine—
hard to swallow,
but good for me.
Holiday
The Christmas program
is scheduled for
December 15
because most of the foreign volunteers
leave on Christmas holiday
to Phuket,
Cebu,
or Panang.
Even Toby is going
to Bali
with his roommate.
You can take care of
Lin Lin and Xiao Bo
while I’m gone,
right?
he asks,
tweaking my nose.
You’re becoming an excellent
physical therapist.
His words
warm me
like I’m a radiator
filling with hot water.
I like it,
I say
and I’m not even lying.
The Scarf
The day of the Christmas show,
Toby arrives earlier than usual.
He wears nice clothes,
a white shirt with thin blue lines
and a red tie.
He takes me out in the hallway
grinning,
hands me a pink bag
with polka dots,
thin, crumpled paper
poofing from the top.
A present,
he says.
I asked my mum
to make it
specially for you.
I’ve seen Toby’s mum’s photo
on his phone:
her small glasses
and curly hair
that sticks up
in spirals
all over her head.
His father died when he was small.
I’ve seen
New Zealand,
where Toby’s mum lives,
on the map.
It’s not as big
as America,
but Toby says
it has mountains too.
I carefully remove the
white paper
and pull out
the most beautiful
lavender scarf,
soft
like bird feathers, delicate
like cobwebs.
I cannot
breathe.
Not that I’m a fashion guru,
but I thought it might go well
with the green coat,
Toby says.
You can wear it
when you sing
your song.
I wind the
beautiful
loveliness
around my throat
and say,
I think I’ll sing better
with it on.
He has presents
for all the other kids.
Their squeals of delight
echo
into the hallway,
where I remain
to inspect
every detail
of my treasure.
Christmas Show
Miss Li pulls
a small plastic package
from her purse.
Inside is
a butterfly clip
with
red gauze
wings.
For you,
she whispers,
sliding the clip
into my hair.
Thank you for your help
with my English.
I guess I do help
whenever I can,
but not much.
Just pronunciation of words
and the English name I gave her—
Jasmine
because she said she likes flowers
and Jasmine Li
sounded pretty to me.
I am breathless.
Xie xie.
No matter,
she says in English
and clip-clops away
to rub
blush
onto
someone else’s
cheeks.
All the kids wear makeup
even if they’re only in the choir
or performing little dances
where they dip up and down
or leap in circles.
Even Xiao Bo
wears lipstick
and blush.
He rocks
in a borrowed wheelchair
smiling huge,
head jerking.
The lipstick
I’m wearing
feels sticky,
reminds me
of Mama’s
vermilion,
makes me
wonder
about
Zhao Bin,
if he knows what happened to me.
He seems now
part of a whole other life.
My Song
I sing
my song too fast,
because no one
told me
my heart would
leap,
my underarms would
sweat
from all those
staring eyes.
The audience is
mostly ladies
in beige or brown sweaters
with white, smiling faces
and thin, clapping hands.
Toby told me
they’re the ones who give money
so that kids can have surgeries
and professionals like Toby
can come
to make the kids’ lives
better.
The director beams
from the stage
when the acts are finished.
She declares
it a success:
all the jumping and leaping
of the little children,
all the singing and smiling,
all the makeup-smeared faces.
We feast on cookies and juice
from a table covered in a
red cloth.
I crumble a cookie
into tiny bits
for Xiao Bo
so he won’t choke.
A foreign woman
pats me and says,
Your English is so good!
Her accent is strange.
Toby says it’s European.
In Sight
Toby is only here
for two hours today
and then he’s going home to pack.
He’ll be riding on a big airplane
out of China
to Indonesia.
He showed me
Indonesia
on the map,
a clump of
islands under
the Philippines.
After
only an hour
Miss Li calls him away.
Twenty minutes later
he comes back.
I’m massaging
Lin Lin’s cramped feet.
She smiles
her tiny-mouthed
crooked
smile
because she likes
touch.
Kara,
Toby whispers.
The director wants your adoption wrapped up
by Chinese New Year.
You’re only one year away from aging out.
She’s putting pressure on the authorities
to make a decision about your file.
The end is in sight.
His words
clang inside me like a cymbal’s echo.
I swing like a pendulum,
one minute
envisioning freedom,
getting out of here
any way I can,
the next remembering
Mama
and realizing
I could wait here
for years
if someone would promise me
her.
Christmas Day
So quiet today.
I’m the only one
at the orphanage
who seems to know
it’s special.
I wrap the scarf from Toby’s mum
around my neck,
pull on Mama’s wool socks,
close my eyes, and
wish for mashed potatoes
and fried chicken
like Mama used to make
on Christmas Day,
then go downstairs
alone
to the cafeteria
to eat cabbage
and boiled peanuts.
Stolen
I’ve worn
Miss Li’s butterfly
every day
since the Christmas show.
It hurt
my head
when I slept,
so I laid it
next to my pillow,
but forgot it
when I got up
to use the bathroom.
I was gone just five minutes, but
when I came back
it was gone.