Becoming Who We Are Ch. 09

"Yeah. You know, I haven't been back on a bike since my accident, either."

Mark brightened. "Really?"

"Really. I told myself it was too cold to ride in the mornings, but..."

A girl with a dog stepped onto a nearby playing field. The dog clearly had control of the situation, with the girl walking, then jogging to keep up. Mark squinted at the pair.

"I think that's Shelly," he said.

"Who?"

"That girl I told you about, the one who called right after the ambulance left with Luke." He stood and waved. "Hey, Shelly!" he bellowed. "Over here!"

The girl looked at them and waved back. Pulling on the leash, she shouted at the unwilling dog, "Shelby! Behave! We're going this way whether you like it or not, you stupid hound!"

Shelby ran ahead and cut in front of the girl, causing her to twirl to avoid tangling herself in the leash. The pair couldn't help laughing as Shelly trotted up with the unrepentant mutt.

"Silly dog," she said affectionately, then grinned at Melina. "I'm Shelly."

"Hi. I'm Melina."

"I know. I've heard all about you."

"Oh?"

"Luke likes you a lot."

"Oh, Well, I like him a lot." She paused. "Are you good friends with him?"

"Pretty good, even if I let him down at a pretty critical moment."

"Come on, Shelly," Mark protested. "Would you quit talking like that?"

"I can't help it," she said. "I still feel totally guilty about that."

"Well, get over it," Mark said.

Melina eyed him thoughtfully. He sounded nothing like the boy who blamed himself the day his brother slit his wrists.

"You showed up at the hospital when he really needed a friend, and you're still showing up," Mark said. "That's what counts."

"Well, thank you, Father Mark," she said, smiling to take the sting out of the words. "How many Hail Marys and Our Fathers do I need to say for penance?"

He placed a hand on her head.

"I absolve thee, child. Go and sin no more."

"Would you two care to tell me what you're talking about?" Melina asked.

"Not really," Shelly said. "You could say I have some issues I'm working on."

Shelly smoothed her hair where Mark's hand had lain. If only they knew! The day after Luke's suicide attempt, Shelly had gone to school early to avoid talking to her mother and Frank, her mother's boyfriend. As she had entered the building, she had run into Sister Anne, her math teacher.

"Shelly! What are you doing here so early?"

"Um, I have some studying to do, ma'am." Even as she had spoken the words, she had realized how weak they sounded.

Sister Anne's eyes had searched her face for several seconds.

"Come with me, please, to my office. I'd like to talk with you."

Shelly had followed the woman to a cramped room overflowing with books.

"Have a seat, dear. Have you had any breakfast?"

"No, ma'am. I don't usually eat in the morning."

Shelly's stomach had chosen that moment to growl. The nun had caught her eye, and both had laughed.

"Perhaps you should reconsider your policy, dear. It so happens that I always greet the day with croissants and coffee, after morning prayers," she had said, pulling a thermos and a butter-splotched sack from her canvas bag. "Would you care to join me?"

"Please, ma'am."

They had eaten and drunk in companionable silence for a few minutes before the nun had spoken again.

"Would you care to share with me what's on your mind, dear?"

For an awful moment, Shelly had simply stared at the woman, seeing Luke's fragile face in his hospital bed. And then, before she could censor herself, the entire story had tumbled out. At several points, Shelly had tried to stop her narrative, but the nun's kind face and Shelly's own need to talk to a sympathetic soul had compelled her onward. When the story, and Shelly's tears, had petered out, she had cowered, expecting the nun's censure. Instead, Sister Anne had gazed at her thoughtfully.

"That's an enormous load to have carried on your shoulders for so long," she had finally said. "And a terrible thing that man did to you."

Startled, Shelly had gaped at the woman.

"You mean, you're not mad at me? Frank told me it was my fault he did what he did, that if I hadn't been so, so sexy," and she directed her gaze to the floor, "he wouldn't have done it."

Sister Anne's eyes had flashed.

"Bullshit! It wasn't your fault. You were a child. He was an adult. He chose to do what he did. Case closed."

Shelly blinked and reached down to fondle Shelby's ears. What a relief it had been to tell someone! Sister Anne had arranged for her to see a counselor that day and she had been going back twice a week ever since. And best of all, her mother had kicked Frank out of the house.

"You coming over tonight?" Mark asked, changing the subject.

"Wouldn't miss it," Shelly said. "I'm totally excited about it. I mean, it's hard to believe your mother actually invited me. She's really changed, hasn't she?"

"Maybe," Mark said thoughtfully, "but then again, maybe not. She's more like she used to be, before John died, I mean. Not that she doesn't still have her witchy moments, though. But the counselor's really helped."

"You could say she has some issues she's working on?" Shelly asked drolly.

Mark grinned.

"We all have some issues we're working on, Shelly. You should know that."

"Too right," Shelly said.

"Totally," Melina agreed.

**

Mr. Tang finished the prep work for the evening meal with a sigh. He had planned this meal for days, and he felt a little sad that it was almost over. Why had he ever stopped cooking for his family at home? His wife poked her head into the kitchen, saw the counter covered with meat, vegetables and herbs, and smiled.

"That looks like the old days, when you used to make feasts for the two of us."

He nodded and sighed again.

"It's a shame we quit doing that," she remarked in a soft voice.

"Yes," he replied. "We never should have stopped."

"True," she said, returning to the hallway. "But at least we realized it before it was too late," she called.

Her closed his eyes against the tears that unexpectedly welled up. The sight of his son in his hospital bed had pained him like a shard of glass in his heart. Even now, he could not stop thinking about how close he had come to losing another child. It brought back the misery of losing his own father to the Red Guards.

As he put the food away, he considered the counseling sessions his family and he were attending. His mother would not have understood the need for it, and indeed he had not either -- at first. He had hardly opened his mouth during the initial session, but as the counselor encouraged them all to talk, he began to see the value of getting the poison out of their hearts and into the open, where they could dispose of it. His shoulders suddenly shook with mirth. Tang Wei was going to a shrink! He was truly an American now!

His work completed for the moment, he washed his hands, feeling a little lost. If he were at the restaurant, he'd be chatting with his cronies right now. He considered going over for a few minutes to check on them. No, he told himself firmly, don't do it. Instead, his feet led him upstairs, to his eldest child's room. He rapped on the door.

"Come in."

Luke sat on his bed, a notebook beside him. Wei flinched as he spied the scars on his son's wrists. He had hated the sight of the white bandages wrapped around the boy's forearms, but the scars bothered him even more. At least the boy's nose had healed properly. Wei's hands curled into fists. He could not wait to see Jeff Rohrbach in prison, although their attorney had said the thug might get only probation, the attack on Luke and the officer being his first offense.

"What are you doing?" he asked his son.

"Working on what to say if they want me to make a speech tomorrow."

Wei smiled as an inspiration struck him.

"You know, I've never read your story. Do you have a copy I could have?"

Luke looked at him. "You really want to read it?"

"Of course."

Giving him a skeptical look, Luke riffled through a desk drawer and pulled out a stapled sheaf of papers.

"Here you go."

"Thanks. I'll go read it now."

"Whatever." Luke yawned and turned away from his father.

Mr. Tang clenched his teeth against the reprimand that came to his tongue. Luke would remain skeptical of his parents' love until they proved it to him, the counselor had warned them. Knowing to expect it provided scant comfort against the sarcasm in his child's voice, he reflected. Ah, well. How did the American saying run? What goes around comes around? He would simply have to wait.

Story in hand, he went to his office and closed the door. Settling into his old chair, he put on his reading glasses and began.

"Gold Mountain!

"Everywhere, people buzzed about the rich land beyond the eastern sea. There, they said, the Chinese were welcome to make a fortune with everyone else. There, they said, a man could pluck his breakfast from the trees, as much as he could carry. There, they said, a man would find no mandarins, no warlords, no soldiers. There, they said, a man would find only riches waiting for him to collect them.

"Gold Mountain!"

Wei blinked, and read on. By the time he reached the final passage, the tears ran down his cheeks. For a while, he let them, knowing nobody could see. He mopped his face with a handkerchief. Why had he never expected such intensity and grace from the child? He blew his nose and walked slowly up the stairs.

An unfamiliar noise woke Luke. He opened his eyes to see his father wiping his face and sniffling.

"Dad?"

For a moment, Wei could only stare at his son.

"I'm so sorry," he finally said, his voice sounding rusty and harsh.

Luke felt his own chin begin to quiver. He had never seen his father cry.

"It's okay, Dad. It's okay."

**

The scents of freshly baked cake, steaming rice, pungent meat and fish, and piquant dumplings filled the building. Shelly inhaled hugely as she entered the house.

"It smells wonderful in here!"

Lucy Tang smiled.

"My husband's a marvelous cook," she said. "He used to tease me that I fell in love with him only for his food."

She guided the girl to the kitchen, where Luke, Mark, Mary, and Melina stood talking and watching Mr. Tang cook. Shelly joined them, while Mrs. Tang went to the cabinets to get the silver chopsticks and imported bowls that some of their old friends had chipped in to buy for their wedding. She hummed as she set the table. It had really been too long since they had done this.

Suddenly everything was ready and all the Tangs ferried the food from the kitchen to the table.

"You can tell we're professionals," Mark said dryly to Shelly and Melina.

The group sat down and sniffed appreciatively.

"Grace?" Mrs. Tang said.

"Of course," her husband said, taking the hands of his wife and his daughter.

"Dear Lord in Heaven," Mrs. Tang said, "we thank you for this bounty before us. We ask that you bless it to the nourishment of our bodies. Forgive us our sins," and she paused briefly, "and help us to forgive ourselves and those who have wronged us. And thank you, Lord, for all the gifts you have given us, especially our children and their talents. Help us to love them more, and forgive us when we do not value these precious gifts as we should. Watch over us as we travel to Harrisburg tomorrow for Luke's awards ceremony." She paused again. "Amen."

She looked around the table. Every eye seemed fastened on her. No one moved.

"Well? Isn't anyone going to eat?"

Within seconds, the sounds of chatter, clanging spoons and clicking chopsticks filled the Tang home. Luke and his mother demonstrated to Shelly how to use chopsticks, but she soon resorted to a fork.

"I want to learn," she explained, "but at the rate I'm going, I'll never get a bite in my mouth. And this food is too good to miss."

Mr. Tang beamed at her. He had done rather well, he thought.

Despite the immense quantities he had prepared, the group quickly cleared the platters. As Mary finished the last of her rice, Mrs. Tang caught her husband's eye and the two departed for the kitchen. Mary and Mark jumped up and cleared away the bowls and chopsticks as if they had rehearsed for this moment, Melina thought.

The adults returned bearing a chocolate cake and a stack of plates, which they set in front of Luke. His lower lip trembled as he read the words written in icing:

"Congratulations, Luke!"

"Go ahead," his mother said when he hesitated. "Everyone's waiting."

Blinking back his tears, Luke cut out a corner piece.