Read Inside Out and Back Again Online
Authors: Thanhha Lai
MiSSSisss WaSShington asks,
Was your lunch delicious?
Before speaking,
I have to translate
in my head.
She waits.
I eat candy in toilet.
MiSSSisss WaSShington
looks panicked.
WHAT?
I realize my mistake.
Oh,
the
toilet.
She doesn’t look
any happier.
I add,
Not candy all time.
But you
always
eat in the bathroom?
I nod.
Why?
How can I explain
dragonflies do somersaults
in my stomach
whenever I think of
the noisy room
full of mouths
chewing and laughing?
I’m still translating
when her eyes get red.
I’ll pack you a lunch
and you can eat at your desk.
No eat in class.
I’ll fix that.
Things will get better,
just you wait.
I don’t believe her
but it feels good
that someone knows.
October 13
At lunch the next day
I stay in class.
MiSSS SScott nods.
Can it be this easy?
Inside my first
brown paper bag:
a white meat sandwich,
an apple,
crunchy curly things
sprinkled with salt, and
a cookie dotted
with chocolate raindrops.
Something salty,
something sweet,
perfect.
I hear pounding footsteps
in the long hall.
I stop chewing.
Two students
run into class,
giggling.
I firm my muscles,
ready for the giggles
to explode into laughter
thrown at me.
But smiles appear instead.
The girl has
red hair swaying to her bottom,
a skirt falling to her calves.
She says,
Pam.
I hear
Pem
.
The boy of coconut-shell skin
is dressed better than for church,
a purple bow tie,
a white white shirt
that wouldn’t wrinkle
even if he rolled down a hill.
His shaved head
is so shiny and perfect
I want to touch it.
He speaks slowly and loudly,
but I don’t mind
because he’s still smiling.
He says,
Steven
.
I hear
SSsì-Ti-Vân
.
I have not
seen them in class.
But then, I mostly
stare at my shoes.
I will write in my journal
October 14 is
Most Relieved Day,
as I have noted
April 30 was
Saigon Is Gone Day
and September 2 was
Longest Day
Ever
.
Though I was saving
Most Relieved Day
for Father’s return,
he can have the title:
My Life’s Best Day.
October 14
Pink Boy
stands at the board.
He can’t multiply
18 by 42.
I go to the board,
chalk the answer
in five moves.
My cheekbones lift
to the ceiling
until I see horror
on the faces
of Pem and SSsì-Ti-Vân.
Pink Boy is glowing red
against white hair,
white eyebrows,
and white eyelashes.
MiSSS SScott
nudges me toward my seat.
Pem reaches for my hand,
hers trembling.
I know
Pink Boy will get me,
but right now
I feel smart.
October 20
One day
the honey-hair girl
takes her pink ribbons
and knots pigtails in my hair.
She stares,
shakes her head,
yanks back her ribbons.
Pink don’t look good on you.
Then three girls
of bronze-bread skin
remove colorful barrettes
from their hair
and twist onto my head
so many braids.
The girls’ hair holds
the shape of braids
even without barrettes.
Pem and SSsì-Ti-Vân nod,
so I keep still.
Walking home,
my shadow shows
eels dancing on my head
with tails in shapes of
bows, stars, hearts.
Mother and Brothers
notice,
pause,
then go on with their day.
It isn’t easy
to sleep on a pile of
plastic barrettes.
The next morning
when the girls
slip off the barrettes,
my hair falls back
to being straight.
The girls
yank my flat strands,
walk away.
I’ve spent my life
wishing for long hair
and this is what I get.
October 23
Vu Lee no longer
has time for just me.
At sunrise
he throws newspapers
onto porches.
After school
he flips perfect circles
of beef.
At sunset
he teaches Bruce Lee moves
in our front yard.
We line up in five rows,
squatting and shifting,
the only moves
he has taught us.
I make sure to get
in the front row.
First came
the eager boys.
Next came
the giggly girls.
Then came
our neighbors who
couldn’t help their curiosity.
They wave back now,
at times bringing
jiggly, colorful food
we don’t eat.
Everyone in Vu Lee’s class
wears yellow.
Some even bought suits
exactly like Bruce Lee’s.
Brothers Quang and Khôi join too.
Once I saw Mother
behind the curtains,
smiling.
I squatted low and sturdy then.
October 28
MiSSS SScott
shows the class
photographs
of a burned, naked girl
running, crying
down a dirt road
of people climbing, screaming,
desperate to get on
the last helicopter
out of Saigon
of skeletal refugees,
crammed aboard a
sinking fishing boat,
reaching up to the heavens
for help
of mounds of combat boots
abandoned by soldiers
of the losing side.
She’s telling the class
where I’m from.
She should have shown
something about
papayas and T
t.
No one would believe me
but at times
I would choose
wartime in Saigon
over
peacetime in Alabama.
October 29
Pem is dressed
in a skirt to the floor
like the pioneers
in our textbook.
SSsì-Ti-Vân
wears a beard
like President Lincoln.
I didn’t know
today is pretend day.
Pink Boy keeps asking,
What are you?
By the end of school
he yells an answer:
She should be a pancake.
She has a pancake face.
It doesn’t make sense
until
it does.
I run,
hearing laughter
loud loud loud
,
which still echoes when Mother comes home.
I can’t keep the day inside anymore.
Mother asks,
What’s a pancake?
Tears gush
because I can’t
make myself explain
a pancake
is
very
very
flat.
October 31
Halloween
Mother strokes my head.
Chant, my child,
Breathe in, peaceful mind.
Breathe out, peaceful smile.
She strokes my back.
Chant, my daughter;
your whispers will bloom
and shelter you
from words
you need not hear.
Chant
Nam Mô A Di
à Ph
t
Nam Mô Quan Th
Âm B
Tát.
She strokes my arm.
I chant,
wanting the gentle strokes
to continue forever.
I chant,
wanting Mother’s calmness