1974 by Karen Tei Yamashita

Author:Karen Tei Yamashita [Yamashita, Karen Tei]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781566893893
Publisher: Coffee House Press

Couple of days later, Abra comes by the kitchen. “What are you cooking up?” she asks.

“Take a look.” I got a giant pot on the stove filled with water.

She looks inside. “You boiling water?”

“Not just any water.” I get the long ladle and stir it around. I got a small bowl to the side. Carefully ladle a couple of tablespoons into the bowl and hand it to Abra. “Try this.”

“Hot water, Felix.”

“You’re not concentrating. Close your eyes.”

She takes another sip. “Maybe lead from the pipes,” she says. “It’s gonna kill us eventually.”

I shake my head.

“Hey,” she says. “I started reading the Steinbeck. That’s not you in the book. It’s a Chinaman named Lee.”

“What does anyone know about the difference between Chinamen and Pinoys?”

“Felix, this Lee character has a queue. And he talks chinky. It’s disgusting.”

“How far you read?”

“Maybe a couple hundred pages. Took that long just to get to his part. I’m not reading this racist shit about a stereotype.”

“Keep reading. John’s long-winded.”

“Seven hundred pages, Felix.”

“Klinker’s on page seven hundred.”

“I’m giving you your book back.”

“Look.” I’m stirring my pot. “You take a rest from Das Kapital.”

She gives me her look.

“Oh, you think I was born yesterday? Katipunan ng mga Demokratikong Pilipino. You go to some mountain retreat, come back with the revolution.” I wave my hands. “That’s good. I support it. One hundred percent.”

“You do?”

“Of course. Why else you come to this roach-infested hotel? You trying to save me, no?”

She shakes her head. “I don’t know why.”

“Listen, this East of Eden is maybe same stuff but easier. What they say? ‘All books lead to Rome.’ Way of saying, same place. In this case, California. John and I, we figured it all out. Trust me.”

Just then, Emil and Andie run in. “Uncle Felix, what are you making?”

“Making soup. Wanna try?” I ladle out the hot water into two bowls. They scramble to sit at the end table next to the window. I hand them two spoons. “Wait. Hot. You got to blow first.”

I see Abra watching the twins. Steam from the bowls, swirling around their dark little heads, silhouettes in our dusty window. Outside, city street noise like the soft crash of distant metal. Watching them blow.

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