she turned the paper over and folded it again. she pleated, packed, tucked, rolled, and twisted until the paper disappeared between her cupped hands. then she lifted the folded up paper packet to her mouth and blew into it like a balloon.
a little paper tiger stood on the table.
kan, she said. Laohu.
This is Tiger. cautiously, Laohu strode up and purred at mark, sniffing his hands
Dad and I stood on each side of Mom lying on the hospital bed.... By the tine an ambulance finally carried her in, the cancer had spread far beyond the limits of surgery....
mark grabbed Laohu and his snarl was choked off as mark crumpled him in his hand and tore him in half. he balled up the two pieces of paper and threw them at me. Here's your stupid cheap Chinese garbage.
Mark punched me hard. this was very expensive! You cant even find them in the stores now. It probably cost more than what your Dad paid for your Mom!
do I have a chink face?
English, i said. Speak English.
no you don't.
Sha jiao chink?
Mom learned to cook American style.... Mom finally stopped making the animals a=when I was in high school. By then her English was much better, but I was already at the age when I wasn't interested in what she had to say whatever language she used.
It's okay Mom. I stroked her arm awkwardly..... she dies when my plane was somewhere over Nevada.
the young women handed the paper back to me. I could not bear to look into her face.... The young women reached out and put a hand on my shoulder. Then she got up and left, leaving me alone with my mother.