Chapter 12

GYŌZA

after school

I peel away from Shō and Ken

and walk the opposite way

to the after-school center

just up the street

from our school

on Wednesdays second graders

are let out after lunch recess

but sixth graders have school till three thirty

so Cora waits for me there

now that Mom has afternoon

university classes

 

the after-school center is really just a house

but a house with empty rooms

and some toys lying on open floors

or stacked against beat-up walls

two women who work there

stay mostly in an office

like a closet with a window

from where they watch the kids

the first time we visited, Mom said

you don’t play with the kids?

oh, no they said it’s very free here!

children can do what they want!

no games, crafts, or activities? Mom asked

oh, we do crafts twice each term

we send notices to the school

but the rest of the time they can play—

it’s very free!

 

free

is a word

that we’ve learned

has a different meaning

in English than

in Japanese

in Japanese

free seems to mean

what Mom calls

               unchecked mayhem

 

when I arrive at the after-school center

Cora is waiting in the entryway

with her shoes on before

I’ve even signed her out

she’s quiet till we reach the hill

then she says don’t tell Mom

tell Mom what? I ask

that I hate the kids there! she says

then adds they call me gyōza

gyōza?—dumpling?

I laugh

why gyōza?

her eyes start tearing

as she holds out her arm

pointing at the veins

I’m like gyōza—

they can see through

my skin to the stuff inside

 

I tell her

at least it’s a name

of something that tastes good

and that they’re just not used

to different types of skin

I tell her

we’ll have our adventure

in the park across the town line

the one past the water tower

with the good swings

I tell her

we’ll take cardboard for sliding

cardboard boxes that will

fly on the dry grass

just like sleds

and Cora wipes her arm

across her eyes

okay she says

 

we walk to the park on the hill

beyond the water tower

with a folded

cardboard box each

and we run up and slide down

the wide brown grassy hill

until our hair is

wet from sweat

then after a while Cora makes a friend

and they slide together

then go off to play house

under a tree

and I lie back on the cardboard

stare at the veins

on the insides of my arms

and laugh

I never thought of us

as gyōza