A two foot tall snowman had been assembled on the lawn in front of our new apartment complex. It even had a carrot for a nose. It was the first thing we all noticed as we pulled up to the place. The reviews of the apartment complex spoke of prostitutes frequenting there. For a split second, I imagined a scantily-clad woman in fishnets and stilettos, placing the carrot into Frosty's head with her fuzzy-gloved hand. My daughter quickly broke that thought by shouting loudly, "Maybe kids live here!" I explained that this complex is comprised mostly of University of Cincinnati students, kids in college. "Oh." she said.
She held the door for us as we were moving the last of the large pieces of furniture into the apartment. When my daughter passed by her, I noticed that they were the same height. The two girls smiled at one another briefly. She was quiet, hadn't lost any teeth, and was Asian. She was on her way to the car with a man who looked to be her father. "Hello." "Hello." "Hello." we all greeted. "Say 'Hi', Milena!" I said to my daughter. "Hi.", she said. The girl put her head down and pressed it against the glass door. I asked the father how old she was. "Seven." he said. Same age as my daughter. I was glowing. "What is her name?" I asked. "Elaine", said dad. "We live right here." He pointed to the apartment door next to ours.
It was several weeks before we saw or heard from Elaine again. But every time my daughter was still awake and banging around at 10:00pm, screaming at 7:00am that she didn't want to wear those shoes, or playing the tv too loudly, I thought of Elaine. It was so quiet next door. Elaine probably had a strict bedtime. Elaine probably doesn't throw her shoes. Elaine probably isn't allowed to pollute her mind with tv. The most we ever heard coming from over there was what sounded to be dad and mom doing flash cards in Chinese and Elaine answering in English.
Then my cell phone got turned off on a Friday evening. I told the Verizon rep not to turn it off until my new phone had been set up. I was packing our things to make a trip back to see the family. I had hoped to beat rush hour traffic. I started to have anxiety about not having a working phone on the drive. I knocked on Elaine's door. Her mother answered. "Can I use your phone? Mine isn't working and I need to call someone to fix it." She asked me to sit at her kitchen table as she retrieved her phone. Elaine and my daughter immediately plopped in the floor and began to build with Legos. Elaine's mother placed her cell phone in front of me. The home screen was in Chinese and when she noticed that I did not begin to peck away at the keys, she laughed and told me to hold on as she changed it to English.
I called our rep. On speakerphone, he walked me though the steps to establish the new device. After 10 minutes, I was good to go. I had a working phone and could get on the road. But I didn't want to leave. I wanted to stay and continue talking with Elaine's mom. I wanted to connect with her even though we had so little in common.
But we had so much in common. We had two little girls who were having to adjust to a new life and a new school. We had two little girls who loved playing with Legos. We had two little girls who were living in one bedroom apartments with thin walls.
I learned that her husband teaches at The University of Cincinnati, that she drives Elaine to the bus stop in the mornings, that they are here from China, that she doesn't think her English is very good, and that they have to go back to China in five months. I told her about my best friend's brother who started a tea expedition in the mountains of China and brought some back to the States. I showed her pictures of my best friend's baby who is 1/4 Chinese and 4/4 beautiful. I checked the time on my new phone. We had been visiting for an hour. I told her we had to go and appreciated her kindness. As I stood up, she held up one finger, wait one minute. She went into the bedroom and reappeared with a blue and white cloth. "It is batik" I said, admiring the distinctive dye pattern. "Yes", she said. "I brought it here from China." I pulled the large cloth out of its package and she and I held both sides to admire it. "It is for you." she said.
Tonight, as we were pulling in from the grocery store, I spotted Elaine and her dad throwing frisbee. We waived hello and the dad asked "You want to play?". My daughter raced toward Elaine and I dropped our sacks of groceries. There the four of us stood, in the cul-de-sac of the prostitute-frequented apartment complex, laughing, running and throwing frisbee until it became dark. "How long you stay here?" the dad asked me. "Just until the end of June.", I said. Elaine and her father simultaneously said "Oh" and gave one another a gloomy glance. Then the dad immediately said, "Ok. We do this again tomorrow?" "Sure!" I said.
I smiled the whole way into the apartment. I had forgotten about the bags of groceries yet to be unpacked and dinner that needed to be prepared. I asked my daughter to clear her toys from the coffee table so we could eat on it. As I was laying the dinner plates down, I admired my new tablecloth and thought about Elaine and playing frisbee again tomorrow.
She held the door for us as we were moving the last of the large pieces of furniture into the apartment. When my daughter passed by her, I noticed that they were the same height. The two girls smiled at one another briefly. She was quiet, hadn't lost any teeth, and was Asian. She was on her way to the car with a man who looked to be her father. "Hello." "Hello." "Hello." we all greeted. "Say 'Hi', Milena!" I said to my daughter. "Hi.", she said. The girl put her head down and pressed it against the glass door. I asked the father how old she was. "Seven." he said. Same age as my daughter. I was glowing. "What is her name?" I asked. "Elaine", said dad. "We live right here." He pointed to the apartment door next to ours.
It was several weeks before we saw or heard from Elaine again. But every time my daughter was still awake and banging around at 10:00pm, screaming at 7:00am that she didn't want to wear those shoes, or playing the tv too loudly, I thought of Elaine. It was so quiet next door. Elaine probably had a strict bedtime. Elaine probably doesn't throw her shoes. Elaine probably isn't allowed to pollute her mind with tv. The most we ever heard coming from over there was what sounded to be dad and mom doing flash cards in Chinese and Elaine answering in English.
Then my cell phone got turned off on a Friday evening. I told the Verizon rep not to turn it off until my new phone had been set up. I was packing our things to make a trip back to see the family. I had hoped to beat rush hour traffic. I started to have anxiety about not having a working phone on the drive. I knocked on Elaine's door. Her mother answered. "Can I use your phone? Mine isn't working and I need to call someone to fix it." She asked me to sit at her kitchen table as she retrieved her phone. Elaine and my daughter immediately plopped in the floor and began to build with Legos. Elaine's mother placed her cell phone in front of me. The home screen was in Chinese and when she noticed that I did not begin to peck away at the keys, she laughed and told me to hold on as she changed it to English.
I called our rep. On speakerphone, he walked me though the steps to establish the new device. After 10 minutes, I was good to go. I had a working phone and could get on the road. But I didn't want to leave. I wanted to stay and continue talking with Elaine's mom. I wanted to connect with her even though we had so little in common.
But we had so much in common. We had two little girls who were having to adjust to a new life and a new school. We had two little girls who loved playing with Legos. We had two little girls who were living in one bedroom apartments with thin walls.
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| "It is for you". |
Tonight, as we were pulling in from the grocery store, I spotted Elaine and her dad throwing frisbee. We waived hello and the dad asked "You want to play?". My daughter raced toward Elaine and I dropped our sacks of groceries. There the four of us stood, in the cul-de-sac of the prostitute-frequented apartment complex, laughing, running and throwing frisbee until it became dark. "How long you stay here?" the dad asked me. "Just until the end of June.", I said. Elaine and her father simultaneously said "Oh" and gave one another a gloomy glance. Then the dad immediately said, "Ok. We do this again tomorrow?" "Sure!" I said.
I smiled the whole way into the apartment. I had forgotten about the bags of groceries yet to be unpacked and dinner that needed to be prepared. I asked my daughter to clear her toys from the coffee table so we could eat on it. As I was laying the dinner plates down, I admired my new tablecloth and thought about Elaine and playing frisbee again tomorrow.
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