Read Online Orchards by Holly Thompson - Free Book Online Page A

peace
     
    then two days before
    my flight home
    there is a surprise
    a farewell dinner
    for me
    at Asuka’s house
    sliding doors have been removed
    in several rooms
    to make a long hall
    for two rows
    of low tables
    with men down the farthest ends
    and women toward the entrance
    sitting and rising and going
    back and forth and
    in and out of the kitchen
     
    there are heaps of food
    and bottles of drinks
    brought by cousins
    and second cousins
    and aunts and uncles
    and people from the village
    and a few from beyond
    and Asuka and Rika and Ai
    and even a few girls
    from my class at the
    middle school
    everyone spilling out into
    side rooms
    the entryway
    the driveway even
     
    on cue from Yurie
    I take bottles
    of beer and sake and
    oolong tea and juice
    and go from person to person
    pouring into their glasses
    speaking my thanks
    bowing
    smiling
    chatting
    whether I remember
    who
    they are
    or not
     
    and they start to talk
    about my mother
    and my father
    and someone says that
    it is time for them
    to visit
    and someone else says
    that a party with them
    would be good
    but I mention that
    with my mother’s business
    winter is better
    since it’s difficult
    for her to leave in summer
    and suddenly they ask
    if I will be back
    next summer
     
    the room goes quiet
    I hadn’t thought
    about that

     
    I look toward Uncle then
    because I know that such respect
    is what’s expected
    and I look at Aunt
    and Baachan
    and Koichi
    and Yurie
    and they, too
    are waiting
     
    I bow
    and say
    if they will have me
    then add
    and if they will have Emi, too

     
    some handkerchiefs come out
    and there are cheers
    and Asuka and Rika and Ai rush
    to pour more drinks
    and then the men
    joke that Uncle’s fall harvest
    will be bigger next year
    with all that extra summer help
    that they will have to work hard
    to keep up and will have to see
    what relatives they can get
    to come help, too
     

T hen I’m back
    in New York
    in my room with Emi
    talking about the groves
    and missing the scent
    of
mikan
on my hands
    wishing I could have stayed
    a few more weeks
    for the start of the fall harvest
    just to see those mountain slopes
    with row after terraced row of trees
    with
mikan
all turned orange
     
    the day after I arrive
    I go see Jake
    riding my bike up
    the hill you climbed
    alone that night
    his mom hugs me
    in the driveway
    then shakes her head
    and gives me a deep look
    and I know
    he’s been having a hard time
     
    he and I
    sit on wicker chairs
    on their porch
    but neither of us
    speaks
    can we walk?
I finally ask
    he nods
    and we go down the steps
     
    after we’ve walked
    away from their house
    along the road that continues uphill
    and that has hardly any traffic
    ever
    I stop on the rough edge of the asphalt
    turn to him and am about to say
    that I’m sorry and more
    but Jake warns
    don’t
    he glares then looks off, way off
    to where the road dips
    and beyond where a hill rises
    to a wooded dome
    he eyes me
    his look hard, steely
    then softer
    pained
     
    can I ask a favor?
I finally ask
    he waits, suspicious
    and I almost don’t ask
    but I do
    the tree …
    can I see it?
     
    he seems to inflate with anger
    and I think he’s going to send me away
    as he exhales and inhales
    like a squall
    I wait
    for the weather in his eyes
    to shift
    when it finally does
    he leads me back down the road
    up their driveway
    behind their house
    and into the orchard
    we walk down
    the central rutted road
    ahead of me Jake
    dragging his feet
    kicking up dust
    when he turns left into a row
    I pause
    follow again
    and stop when he stops
    at the third tree
     
    he exhales
    then raises his arm
    and points upward
    I follow with my eyes
    and can’t help
    but cry out
    because somehow, Ruth,
    I’d pictured
    a branch still
    spring-bare
    and nearly empty
    but the branch
    Jake points to
    is full
    heavy
    drooping with
    the most stunning
    abundance
    of ripe apples
     
    Jake and I sit down beneath
    that abundance and
    for a long time we don’t