Imposter Syndrome and Other Confessions of Alejandra Kim by Patricia Park

Author:Patricia Park [Park, Patricia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Random House Children's Books
Published: 2023-02-21T00:00:00+00:00

* * *

—

AND THEN WE’RE ON the A train, leaving Brooklyn for Queens. Some of the passengers in our car have suitcases and duffel bags. “Are you taking me to JFK?” Laurel asks eagerly. “I forgot my passport, so domestic flights only.”

“Patience, L. You’ll ruin the surprise.”

But we don’t get off at Howard Beach to catch the AirTrain, like the other travelers with their baggage. We keep going, crossing Jamaica Bay before it feeds into the Atlantic Ocean.

Laurel and I ride the A almost to the bitter end. The smell of sea salt hits us as we exit the station.

She slaps my arm. “Shut up. You are not taking me to Rockaway Beach, Alejandra Kim!”

“Too late, L. We’re already here.”

She lets out a squeal. “Holy bleep! I haven’t been here since…since…”

She’s memory groping.

“The picture of your family that used to be in your kitchen,” I say.

“I can’t believe you remember that,” she says. “We used to come here all the time. Back when we were one big happy.”

“We used to come here, too,” I say. “Before my dad, you know…”

I think of the last time Papi and I were at the Rockaways. I pulled out the old picture the other day, and I didn’t feel the same intensity of sadness that usually overwhelms me. Maybe I shouldn’t keep it tucked in my bottom desk drawer anymore.

“I didn’t know you guys used to come here,” she says. “You never really say anything about your dad….”

Her words are snatched away by the wind. On the boardwalk, the ocean is roaring, and our hair keeps whipping around our faces.

The Atlantic Ocean is blue green from far away and green brown up close, stretching across with no beginning and seemingly no end.

I’m flashing back to the last time we were here. The time we left Ma behind in the car after their fight about the umbrella. Papi stretched his arms wide, like he was Jay Gatsby trying to give the ocean a hug. “Always I imagine Tierra del Fuego looks like this. Like I’m at the end of my world.”

I corrected his English. “Papi, you mean ‘edge,’ not ‘end.’ ”

He smiled that strange smile he had when he didn’t agree with what you said but was too polite to argue.

We dove in. The shock of freezing-cold, murky water contrasted the two hours of hot and sticky traffic inside the Oldsmobile with the broken AC. It’s funny, though, how in life things are always one extreme or the other—too hot or too cold, and never firmly in the Goldilocks middle.

“I can’t believe Mami is missing all this,” I said. The guilt of leaving her behind in the car, even though it had been her choice, was hanging heavy in the air.

Suddenly there was a commotion by the water’s edge. A crowd hovered around something lying on the sand. What was it? A drowned child? Papi rushed over in a panic; I followed.

But no—it was just a jellyfish. It was lifeless, dead. The crowd dispersed.

“Let’s head back, Aleja-ya,” Papi said abruptly, and he began to pack up our things.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.