Cuba lick her. She looks a little bit sick about it but also like she knows he does that because he is a dog. When Cuba comes back from a walk, she flaps prettily to show him she is glad, and she makes a crackling sound in the back of her throat. She doesn’t make that sound for anybody but Cuba. Mrs. Lau says if a dog and a parakeet can love each other, then so can anybody. I think she is right.
October 22, 2008
I don’t know if it is OK to tell you this since you are a boy. Mum and Dad and Kiku would say it is not OK. But I would like to tell you since we agreed to be our real true selves with each other. Well, here goes. Yesterday it was very hot, as if it were the middle of summer. I had on a pair of culottes that came up to my knees. A boy in my maths class said my legs were nasty and hairy and asked me if they had razors in India. Everybody laughed, and I pretended I didn’t care and kept on working. Reepa, an Indian girl who was born in New York, was sitting near me in class and she laughed, too. Later I saw her in the bathroom, and while I was washing my hands she stood next to me and said that her cousins in Bengal also didn’t shave their legs, but no one noticed because they kept them covered. I didn’t say anything. It made me mad that she laughed at me in front of everyone but tried to be nice in private.
When I got home, I was upset and told Kiku what had happened, and I asked if I could borrow his razor. At first he said no, but all of a sudden he changed his mind. We only have a shower, not a bathtub, so he filled the bucket we use to catch leaks with warm water, put the lid down on the toilet, and told me to sit there with my legs in the bucket. He showed me how to apply the shaving cream and how to shake the razor in the water to get the hairs off. Then he left and shut the bathroom door, but he stayed just outside and talked to me about a fight he’d had with Ana Maria. It really helped me to hear his voice. . . . Oh, my gosh, River. Shaving was kind of scary. I thought I would cut myself and bleed to death. I know boys have to shave their faces, but faces are small and legs are long. It took forever to do one leg, and then I still had the other to go! When I was finished, Kiku came in and checked my work. He said, “You missed some hairs on your knees. Girls always do that.” So I shaved them off and wondered if he has seen Ana Maria’s knees up close. I think he has.
My legs felt so weird. The air stung my skin and I felt like a different person somehow.
When Mum came home, we showed her my legs and she said that was the last time she’d leave Kiku in charge. She said I was too young and that Daddy would be mad at her. Then she gave me some cocoa lotion that burned, and said the hair will grow back thick and coarse and I will have to shave my legs for the rest of my life. But I don’t care. I like how it looks and no one can laugh at me now, and when I am very old, I will let it go hairy and wild again.
Right now I am sitting on the floor, wrapped up in a red-and-purple blanket Dadi knit. It was hot yesterday but today it is freezing. I can see out the window onto Orchard Street. The crispness of the air changes the streetlights. They look brighter and sharper than they do in the summer. I love when it gets cold. Do you? It makes me want to curl up with a book and a hot cup of tea.
I have been saving the best for last. Daddy was home this past weekend. He took the bus in and we met him at the Port Authority and went bowling. There is a bowling alley right at the bus station. Isn’t that funny? Their fountain soda tastes great. Better than soda from a can. Anyway, Kiku won, like he always does, and I got one lucky strike and a lot of gutter balls. It makes us all laugh how Mum kneels at the end of the lane and pushes the bowling ball with both hands. She got three strikes doing that, and we laughed till we cried. Bowling is something we never did in India. Kiku tried it one night with
October 22, 2008
I don’t know if it is OK to tell you this since you are a boy. Mum and Dad and Kiku would say it is not OK. But I would like to tell you since we agreed to be our real true selves with each other. Well, here goes. Yesterday it was very hot, as if it were the middle of summer. I had on a pair of culottes that came up to my knees. A boy in my maths class said my legs were nasty and hairy and asked me if they had razors in India. Everybody laughed, and I pretended I didn’t care and kept on working. Reepa, an Indian girl who was born in New York, was sitting near me in class and she laughed, too. Later I saw her in the bathroom, and while I was washing my hands she stood next to me and said that her cousins in Bengal also didn’t shave their legs, but no one noticed because they kept them covered. I didn’t say anything. It made me mad that she laughed at me in front of everyone but tried to be nice in private.
When I got home, I was upset and told Kiku what had happened, and I asked if I could borrow his razor. At first he said no, but all of a sudden he changed his mind. We only have a shower, not a bathtub, so he filled the bucket we use to catch leaks with warm water, put the lid down on the toilet, and told me to sit there with my legs in the bucket. He showed me how to apply the shaving cream and how to shake the razor in the water to get the hairs off. Then he left and shut the bathroom door, but he stayed just outside and talked to me about a fight he’d had with Ana Maria. It really helped me to hear his voice. . . . Oh, my gosh, River. Shaving was kind of scary. I thought I would cut myself and bleed to death. I know boys have to shave their faces, but faces are small and legs are long. It took forever to do one leg, and then I still had the other to go! When I was finished, Kiku came in and checked my work. He said, “You missed some hairs on your knees. Girls always do that.” So I shaved them off and wondered if he has seen Ana Maria’s knees up close. I think he has.
My legs felt so weird. The air stung my skin and I felt like a different person somehow.
When Mum came home, we showed her my legs and she said that was the last time she’d leave Kiku in charge. She said I was too young and that Daddy would be mad at her. Then she gave me some cocoa lotion that burned, and said the hair will grow back thick and coarse and I will have to shave my legs for the rest of my life. But I don’t care. I like how it looks and no one can laugh at me now, and when I am very old, I will let it go hairy and wild again.
Right now I am sitting on the floor, wrapped up in a red-and-purple blanket Dadi knit. It was hot yesterday but today it is freezing. I can see out the window onto Orchard Street. The crispness of the air changes the streetlights. They look brighter and sharper than they do in the summer. I love when it gets cold. Do you? It makes me want to curl up with a book and a hot cup of tea.
I have been saving the best for last. Daddy was home this past weekend. He took the bus in and we met him at the Port Authority and went bowling. There is a bowling alley right at the bus station. Isn’t that funny? Their fountain soda tastes great. Better than soda from a can. Anyway, Kiku won, like he always does, and I got one lucky strike and a lot of gutter balls. It makes us all laugh how Mum kneels at the end of the lane and pushes the bowling ball with both hands. She got three strikes doing that, and we laughed till we cried. Bowling is something we never did in India. Kiku tried it one night with
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