at night I wake in the dark and turn and Baachan on a futon beside mine turns toward me pats my back and Yurie on her futon beside mine turns toward me takes my hand
somehow I sleep between them all night
I lie there a doctor comes I take a pill and sleep wake sleep soups are brought I sip sleep when I wake someone is always there someone always takes my hand strokes my head
I don’t eat till late the next day almost dark again when Baachan brings me a plate of pancakes covered with canned slices of mikan and sweet whipped cream which she spears mouthfuls of on a fork and feeds me as I tremble and stop to cry
when I can finally speak to my mother by phone I learn that as it turns out in Lisa’s pocket was a printout of an email from Jake who wrote we can’t hate ourselves just find a way to make this turn you into someone better than you were that’s what we all have to do that’s all we can do
I translate this to Baachan who squeezes her eyes shut shakes her head mournful, slow and uses that handkerchief that’s always tucked and ready in her front apron pocket
Newton’s third law of reciprocal action says for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction that all forces are interactions all forces come in pairs Physics and You spells it out says if body A exerts a force on body B then body B will exert a force of the same magnitude on body A push and pull I think maybe this is what happened with Lisa and you, Ruth— body A and body B
A fter two and a half days Baachan tells me to get up and shower and then come help in the kitchen start your body moving she says your mind will follow
Yurie has left for work Aunt, Uncle and Koichi are in the groves they’ve all eaten Baachan’s washing up I sit at the table alone I eat rice, miso soup then Baachan and I go for a walk up to the temple before the heat starts before the cicadas are deafening when there is still coolness to be found in shade
we trudge uphill Baachan pausing often to wipe her brow and neck with her handkerchief as we climb higher beyond the temple up terraces of stone monuments we bow before the Mano grave Baachan standing in prayer long after I have opened my eyes to stare at family names
at the temple closed and quiet we ascend stone steps and sit down on the weathered boards of the veranda under the deep eave facing the bay and faint gray hint of Mount Fuji
suicide can spread Baachan finally says utsuru she adds like a virus you have to stop it put up barriers
I rock back and forth exhale ask do you think it was a mistake— the letter to Jake the email from Jake to Lisa?
a hot wind gusts behind us from the south curling over the mountaintop brushing tree canopies and rolling down the slopes to breathe on us like dragon fire there on the veranda
no she says what I think was a mistake was sending a girl of fourteen away to a different state to live in a dormitory by herself during a summer like this meaning a summer after what you did with the rope in Osgoods’ orchard
I say to Baachan but I was sent away, too to another country far from home
and Baachan looks at me like I’m truly twisted says far from home? what are you saying? you came home, Kana-chan , you came home to family
T hat afternoon I start work again in the groves thinning and solving problems with Koichi in the mountain air above the bay and some mikan in the lowest groves are just turning color the stubborn green finally going yellow
we take a day off during my last week all six of us and drive the van up the Shonan coast to Kamakura to visit the Big Buddha where I light incense and for once know what to say when I pray which is for you and Lisa both to find