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?We're going to have a new transfer student in this class.?
While Arthur's classmates began to talk about what kind of person this transfer student was going to be, he simply rested his chin in his hand. He didn't know if he was even going to like this transfer student, and everyone was already acting like they were going to. It was kind of silly. The transfer student might not even like them in return.
His classmates suddenly hushed as the door to the classroom opened, and a girl walked in as if fashionably late. She was wearing the school uniform, alright, but she wasn't someone he recognized from the other classes. In fact, her features were relatively Eastern, a far cry from the majority of Arthur's classmates, who were Caucasian.
?This is Jasmine Suzuki,? the teacher said to her students. ?Jasmine, these are going to be your new classmates.?
Jasmine bowed. ?Hello,? she said. ?I hope we can get along well.?
Arthur shifted his position so he was sitting straighter. She seemed?cute. Not to mention, she was polite. All in all, she seemed like a good fit for the class, especially if she was going to be in the gifted section like he was.
?Alright, Jasmine, take your seat,? the teacher told her. Jasmine straightened up, and then walked over to the empty seat in front of Arthur. What a coincidence. As the teacher went on about the plans for the day, Arthur stared at the back of her head.
?Hey, Artie.?
Arthur looked to his left, to see his classmate holding a piece of paper towards him. ?Give this to the new girl, huh??
He nodded, and reached out for the piece of paper. Passing notes to the new girl already? That was quick. He tapped Jasmine on the shoulder, and then she turned around to look at him.
?Hm??
?Here's a note for you,? Arthur said, extending it to her discreetly so the teacher wouldn't notice.
?I see,? she said, taking the note from him. Then she looked down and, Arthur presumed, opened the note. There was silence for a little while, before he heard the crumpling of paper.
Several snickers could be heard now from his left. Arthur looked up - it was a pair of girls who were looking at Jasmine and laughing. Did they write the note? And if so, why did she crumple it up?
Did she not like what she saw?
Jasmine threw the piece of paper to the ground, right next to Arthur. He reached down, and picked it up, before straightening it out so he could see what was written on the piece of paper.
Go back to Asia.
Lunch time couldn't come fast enough. Arthur was thinking about the piece of paper, and what he should do about it. He was sure those girls in his class had sent the note to Jasmine, but he didn't have enough proof to be sure about it. He just had to wait and catch them in the act.
Jasmine took her food from in front of him, and then walked over to the tables at the cafeteria. There didn't seem to be much room for her, however, and people were giving her weird looks. He took his food, and then walked over to her.
?Hey,? Arthur said to Jasmine, causing her to turn around and look at him, still carrying her tray carefully. ?Want to sit with me??
She looked grateful. ?That would be good,? she said.
?Yeah, don't worry about it. I eat mostly alone anyway.? Arthur said, before leading her over to his usual table. And as usual, it was mostly empty. The two of them sat down, and Jasmine joined her hands together in a praying position.
?Itadakimasu,? she said, before moving her hands towards the food and beginning to eat.
?You're Japanese, right?? Arthur asked.
She looked up at him. ?I am,? she said. ?Did you get that from anime??
?Heh, I just have a mother who works for a Japanese corporation,? Arthur said. ?Never been that much into anime and manga.?
?I see.? Jasmine nodded. ?I never really had a thing for it either.?
?Yeah, I just figured, since you have the same surname as the manager of the company my mom works at and all??
?We're not related,? Jasmine said. ?My father works at a law firm.?
?I see.?
The students who were eating on the other side of the table picked up their trays, and left. Arthur noticed that their trays were still full of untouched food.
Days went on. Arthur noticed that the longer he spent time with Jasmine, the more his classmates began keeping their distance from him. It wasn't like he was a loser to begin with, but it felt like they were treating him like one.
But he wasn't the only one they were mistreating.
Jasmine was being ignored in class, and interrupted whenever she gave an answer in class. Every time a note was passed to her in class, she crumpled it up and threw it away. Eventually, Arthur learned to read it first, and throw it away himself so she wouldn't have to read the nasty contents.
He didn't get it. Why were they treating her like this? He thought his classmates and school in general were fairly inclusive. They had ?black lives matter? in their bios on Twitter, and liked to be more ?#woke? on the internet than he did. (Not that he didn't care about human rights or anything else like that, but he would sometimes ignore the occasional political post on his feed.) Not to mention, he knew some people in his class who liked anime more than he or Jasmine did. So why were they treating her like that?
?I'm telling you, Mrs. Fletcher, they're bullying Jasmine.?
His homeroom teacher, Mrs. Fletcher, eyed him with interest. ?Really?? she asked. ?What proof do you have of that??
?Don't you notice how everyone ignores us at lunch period?? Arthur asked.
?No, I don't pay much attention to the students,? Mrs. Fletcher admitted. ?But do you have any other proof??
He headed to Jasmine's desk, and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper. ?Here it is,? he said. ?I think the contents speak for themselves.?
He handed it to Mrs. Fletcher, who straightened it out, and read it over. Her look turned serious, and she nodded.
?And besides, you know how in our class, Jasmine will often try to give the answer to things, and our classmates will interrupt her?? he asked. ?Surely something must be done about this.?
She nodded again. ?Yes, yes. I'll let the principal know about this. Just give me their names.?
He nodded. Good to know they would finally get their comeuppance.
The next day at the assembly, the principal gave a half-baked lecture about bullying in schools and why it should be stopped. Not only did it bore everyone out of their minds, Arthur felt his hopes dropping. He would at least be contented with them calling Jasmine's bullies by name. But it seemed they weren't willing to tackle the problem head-on, or even privately with the bullies.
This was ego stroking, plain and simple. The words the principal gave about punishing bullies in the school felt hollow.
After the assembly, Arthur walked Jasmine out of the school. He looked around in case anyone was following them - and sure enough, the two of them bumped into some boys and girls from their class.
?You told Mrs. Fletcher that we were bullying you, didn't you?? one of the girls asked Jasmine.
?I did no such thing,? Jasmine said.
?We're not even bullying you,? one of the boys said. ?We're just not friends with you, after all.?
?Why would you say something so mean?? another girl asked.
?I told you, I didn't say anything,? Jasmine said.
?And besides, if you're not bullying her, then why are you reacting so badly?? Arthur asked. ?Only bullies know they're in trouble when they hear a boring speech like that.?
?Think you're such a wiseguy, huh?? another boy told him. ?If you don't want to be friends with us so bad, Arthur, then go be with your Asian girlfriend.?
Arthur clenched his hands into fists. ?Why are you being so mean to her?? he asked. ?She did nothing to you.?
?She's just a show-off in class,? the first girl said. She then looked at Jasmine. ?If you're so smart, translate this. Ching chong ching chong.?
The group laughed a bit, while Arthur growled. Jasmine only walked away from them, and upon seeing this, Arthur followed her.
?Jasmine,? he said. ?I just wanted them to stop. I'm sorry.?
?It's fine,? Jasmine said. ?They're not really in trouble, are they? It seems as if the principal just wanted to run his mouth.?
?Yeah,? Arthur said. ?Bet you they'll run a seminar on bullying later on.?
?...Did they do that before??
?No, but my sister's middle school did when her friend got bullied.? He then sighed. ?I thought they would help you.?
Jasmine paused, and turned to him. ?You don't need to get yourself into trouble with our classmates for someone like me.?
?I don't mind it,? Arthur said. ?Well, actually, I do. But I just mind it because I don't want people treating you badly.? He smiled at her. ?We're friends, aren't we??
She stared at him, before smiling.
?Of course we are.? Jasmine said. ?We're definitely friends.?
Arthur was happy to be called her friend.
But he wasn't happy that the school failed to acknowledge their pain. It?sucked, to say the least.
He would make sure, though, that as hellish as this system was towards her, Jasmine would have a friend.
?The day he kissed me I-,? I paused. I contemplated finishing my story before I even started it. The tiny, bright and smiling faces of the children sat in front of me. I decided they needed to know the story. The story of me and how they came to be.
I took a deep breath and dug into the memories that walk the silent corridors of my heart late at night, when all is still and only the trees and the rain make a sound. I close my eyes and I am laying in my backyard with Milton, I am 16 again.
?The day Milton, your father, kissed me for the first time; everything was still. I had forgotten how to breathe for the 3 seconds his lips were on mine, it was almost like the fairytales I read you before bed.? They stared up at me, wonder filling their small, bright eyes. I took another breath and continued.
?We lay on our backs, watching the stars. It was 3 a.m. on September the 2nd of 2002. We were friends for so many years before that, our moms have been friends since girlhood.? My daughter Autumn looked at me and raised her hand, as if she was at school. ?Mommy? Did you love dad when you were looking at the stars?? Her question somewhat shocked me, she was so small, so fragile, barely out of preschool, yet she knew love. What a complex emotion.
?Well, Autumn. I did. I loved your dad for long before that too. I loved him when we were playing soccer in his backyard, or when we were walking to our lockers in the hallways. I loved him when he would shine his flashlight across the street to my bedroom window at 2 a.m. when none of us could sleep. I loved your dad long before I loved myself.? The youngling looked back up at me, content and awestruck. I continued.
?We talked about many things that night. We talked about life and we talked about love. At some point that night, I got tired and I went to get up and go to my bedroom, when your dad grabbed my arm, gripping it tightly. I winced at the slight pain of his fingers digging into my skin.?
I rubbed my upper left arm, my fingers slowly brush over the spots where the 4 bruises once lay all those years ago. My eyes closed and for a second I saw the stars and I saw his face. Olive skin, brown hair with brown eyes that have specks of gold in them when he looks towards the full moon. I saw the boy I was ever so slowly falling in love for all over again.
?Mommy, keep telling us!? My son, Calvin begged me. I opened my eyes and I was back in reality.
?He looked at me, at the confusion and love in my eyes and I saw the same in him. Within a second, his lips were on mine. I didn't breathe, I didn't pull away, I stayed in that moment with him for as long as he would let me. My world was spinning, it was collapsing but becoming so full of color at the same time. Mil- your dad, my best friend, the boy I had for so long wished to call mine, had just done the thing I thought would never happen.? Tears started to fill my eyes and threaten to break over the threshold onto the rosy cheeks below. I didn't let them.
?He was the one to break the moment, I wish he didn't. Once I got home, I cried into my pillow for the rest of the night. Not just for your dad, but for what I had and hadn't done. I was so in love with him. I loved the way his smile gave me butterflies, I loved the way his eyes looked at me and were filled with love and compassion when I was sad, I loved the way he was unapologetically him. I cried at how in love I was and how I could not do anything about it.?
These small children were so consumed in the story of them. They didn't care if they knew what the words meant or if it was weird and gross. They wanted their story.
?I had you guys when I was 17 years old. I had just graduated from high school when I found out I was holding a little baby girl and a little baby boy in my tummy. Your dad was 18 at the time, and he was just as excited as I was.?
I didn't want to tell them what came next. The pain and the tragedy, but the happiness and the wonder.
?On August 8th, your dad was driving back from picking up a snack for me. It was raining and I told him he didn't have to go but he did anyway. Once I got the knock at the front door, and walked down the stairs 7 months pregnant, I knew he was gone. The boy I was in love with, the boy I was going to make a father, the boy I grew up with and fell so helplessly for without realizing it. He left me alone.?
My mind wandered back to the night in the backyard with the stars, it wandered back to playing soccer at the school, it wandered to skateboarding down the road with Nerf guns shooting at each other without a care in the world.
?Your dad loved you guys very much, you both need to know that.?
We heard thunder, Autumn and Calvin clung to my side as we walked back to the car.
?Say bye to dad guys.? I smiled and blew a kiss towards the dusty headstone, the children followed.
?Bye daddy! We love you!? Their cheery voices rang out. I turned towards the road and smiled. I was so young and so naive, I loved without a cause and did it without regrets.
The story of me, and how they came to be, was finally complete. The memories were no longer in the silent corridors of my heart, they were now in the leaves of the trees rustling in the wind, they were now in the drops of rain falling from the sky, they were now in my children's laughter and in the dreams they have.
I drove down the quiet road, and it began to pour.
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