“What’s this?”
“You asked me what she was like.”
Will took the photos from the freezer bag and flipped through them. There was a picture of Lloyd, holding an infant Yummy in the palm of his hand, making her fly like an airplane. There was an Easter picture of Yummy in front of the church and another holding on to Momoko’s hand in front of hedges of honeysuckle and mock orange.
“Cute.” He handed them back to Cass. “What’s that one?” It was a group photo, taken at school after the Thanksgiving pageant.
“Are you in it?” Will asked.
Cass nodded. He narrowed his eyes, held the photo closer.
“Which one is you?”
She pointed to the edge, where she was standing amid the side dishes.
Will laughed. “Well, if you don’t make the cutest, plumpest little—”
“Don’t,” Cass warned.
He walked out to the office, still laughing.
Cass was in two other photos as well. The first had been taken at a birthday party, Yummy’s, of course. Yummy was perched on a footstool in the center of the picture, surrounded by balloons and offerings. Cass sat on the horsehair love seat at the edge of the frame, so far over, it seemed like an accident that she’d gotten into the picture at all. The colors had faded. Pale balloons stuck to the wall behind the love seat, held there by static electricity. It had seemed like magic at the time, Cass remembered, but Lloyd had explained it using simple science. Friction. He’d rubbed a balloon against his thigh, and the sound of the taut rubber against the fabric of his trousers made her want to sneeze. The rough upholstery prickled the backs of her thighs. When the photo was snapped, the rest of the children were facing away. Just Cass and Yummy were caught looking toward the flash. Yummy smiled, poised and self-possessed. Cass, to one side, simply looked stricken.
The only other picture with Cass showed the two girls, older and in twopiece bathing suits, slouching splay-legged in aluminum lawn chairs on the Fullers’ front yard. Behind them the lawn sprinkler sent jets of water into the air. Blades of wet grass stuck to their legs, and they were eating Popsicles. Yummy glowered at the camera, and again Cass just looked scared.
Cass placed the photos side by side. Lined up like that, you could see the sea change that had transpired in Yummy—from smiling princess to sullen mermaid, hiding behind damp, seaweedy hair. Cass hadn’t changed at all. Not yet. Her changes had come later. She stared at the pictures, points in time, and felt the years swell.
Will came from the office, on his way out to the fields. “Looks like fun,” he said, peering over her shoulder. “You two were pretty good buddies, huh?”
She nodded. She walked him to the door and watched him cross the yard, bundled against the cold.
She had thought time would just go on, generating more pictures like these: Cass and Yummy, dressed in bathing suits, in prom dresses, as brides and bridesmaids, and then at baby showers. But the images of her friend stopped a year or so after the photo on the lawn. By then it was winter, and Cass was squirming on the love seat again. No one was snapping pictures. There were no balloons or magic, and the electricity in the room was no longer simply static.
They were all in the Fullers’ living room: Cassie, her mother and father, Lloyd and Momoko. Everyone except for Yummy.
“I don’t know about you, Fuller, but I won’t abide obstinacy in a child of mine.” Her daddy unbuckled his belt. “For the last time, Cassandra, what were you two girls doing in town? And what was that man doing with you?”
“Where’s Yumi, Cass?” Lloyd urged.
“Yes, please tell,” said Momoko.
But she stayed silent.
“All right,” her daddy said. “Have it your way. Get outside and wait for me.”
Her mother reached up and touched his arm. “Carl, not here.”
He jerked his arm away like he hadn’t heard. “What are you waiting for? I said git.”
Lloyd spoke again. “Carl, wait . . .”
“You got a better idea?” It wasn’t a question.
“Not in my house.”
“Don’t you worry. I’m takin’ her outside.”
“That’s not what I meant. It’s not right—”
“That’s why your girl’s gone running off, Fuller. And I’m going to make real sure mine don’t do likewise.”
Outside, it was cold, and the moon lit the slick, vast stretch of ice-crusted snow. The farmhouse stood all alone in the middle of it, glowing. Her daddy’s breath turned white as it came from his mouth. Maybe the cold just made him madder, because he went on and on, raising the belt and bringing it down, like he was doing it just to keep warm.
After a while Lloyd came out and stood in the lit doorway.
“That’s enough, Unger,” he called. “I mean it.”
But her daddy just kept on going, the leather whistling in the air, and except for the action of his arm and the belt, it was like everything else was frozen and would stay that way forever.
letters
April 1976
Dear Momoko and Lloyd,
I decided to write this letter even though I don’t think it will do any good. You probably still think I’m an evil sinner and I’ll go to hell for all my wrongdoings, and if that causes you grief, I’m sorry. It’s not your fault. I didn’t mean for you to find out. It was my problem, and I took care of it the only way I knew how.
Maybe you’re mad at me for leaving, too. But I had to. I left for reasons of shame—not mine, which is what you probably hope, but yours, Daddy. Do you remember when that ammonia train car derailed over behind the Ungers? And all the stuff went into the air and we all had to evacuate, and how scared we were because the poisonous gas was going everywhere, on every wind, but you couldn’t see it? That’s what it was going to be like. I could tell that your shame was going to fill every crack in the house, seep into every second of the day, and suck the air right out of me. And when the word got around, there wasn’t going to be any room left for me to breathe in the whole of Power County that wasn’t taken up with your shame. It wasn’t fair. You might think that the poison was in me, Daddy, but you’d be wrong. I was just the derailed train car. The shame was yours, and I knew if I stayed, I’d be poisoned by it. I’d grow up all screwy and bent with the weight of your shame. So I left. It was an evacuation, Daddy.
So, in case you want to know, I am fine now. Last year was pretty harsh. I was living on the street for a while, panhandling and stuff, but I got by. After that I was sort of adopted by some good people here in Berkeley. It’s a real Pan-Asian scene out here, some Japanese, some Korean, some mixed like me—sure is different from Idaho! We live in a big house, and they’re mostly all college students, so they have good values when it comes to education. They make sure I go to school every day, and they also help me with my homework. One of them took me to see the cherry blossoms in a real Japanese garden. It’s called hana-mi in Japanese which means “flower gazing.” Have you ever heard about this? It reminded me of your garden in the spring, Mom. I’ll bet it’s still too early for flowers in Idaho, huh?
Don’t