Aurora picks me up at the train station. She doesn’t ask why I’m coming home earlier than usual. She knows that I’ve been fired. She thinks my silence is sadness at the fact that I will not be going to Paterson. But I wouldn’t call what I feel sadness. It is more like resolve.
When we get home and she turns off the car, she asks me if I want to talk about it.
“Not right now,” I say.
“I would like to hear about what happened from you.”
“Arturo is right. It is better for me to go to Oak Ridge High.” I can feel her eyes scanning me. “It is all right,” I say. “Maybe I can work with the ponies on the weekends.”
“You’re not upset?”
“No.”
“We can talk to your father.”
“Oak Ridge High will be better. I will not like it as much as Paterson, but it will be better.”
“Why the change?”
“Aurora was right when she told me that working at the law firm would help me be strong. Remember? Gentle and strong, like Aurora. Oak Ridge will help me as well.”
“Help you for what?”
“Aurora already knows. That has not changed.”
Aurora wants to ask me more questions, I can tell, but I open the car door and hug Namu, who is waiting for me to greet him. This is a sign to her that I want to be alone. Aurora touches the top of my head and goes in the house. Then Namu and I go for a walk and when we get home, there is a note from Aurora under the tree house.
Dinner is on top of the stove. Whenever you want to talk, I’m here.
Love you,
Mom
From the window of the tree house, I can see her moving about in the kitchen, perhaps making my lunch for my last day of work. I look at her and there is a wrenching, as if my heart were a sponge full of love being squeezed. Tomorrow she will get up in the morning and put on that silly uniform with the green smiley faces and she will go to comfort as best she can her dying children.
Why the change? I thought about her question as Namu and I walked on the horse trails behind our house and I think about it now as I sit at my desk. For all the pain I saw at Paterson, it is nothing compared to the pain that people inflict upon each other in the real world. All I can think of now is that it is not right for me to be unaware of that pain, including the pain that I inflict on others. Only how is it possible to live without being either numb to it or overwhelmed by it?
I see the light in the kitchen go off and I picture Aurora making her way up the stairs. I think that maybe I will move back to my room in the house. I never thought of Aurora as being lonely, but why wouldn’t she be? What is it like to have a son who is perfectly content living on his own, without any need or desire to communicate; a daughter who is away; a husband who works all the time? What will happen if Wendell sends a copy of Jasmine’s letter to Aurora? I don’t know. We will all have to figure it out together.
Faithful. Faith-full. Full-of-faith. If the letter comes, will it help Arturo and Aurora remain faithful to each other if I am full of faith? My father. Are your ugly parts any uglier than mine?
There is so much to be done. Plans. Preparations. Oak Ridge High will be hard. As good as Paterson was, I know we lagged behind students in public schools in certain subjects. Public school students study in order to pass standardized tests. We studied what needed to be learned. I will need to learn the way they learn and this means working twice as hard as a regular student. It will mean contact with kids with whom I don’t have much in common. But it can be done. I will do it. Going to Oak Ridge High will help me.
Help you for what? Aurora asked. I missed an opportunity to tell her that it would help me to be like her. That the way she is strong and gentle on behalf of children will be my way as well. The road seems so long. Another year of high school, then college, then a degree in nursing and then work—doing what I can to lessen the hurt in the world. But where? There has to be a place where I belong.
I think of Vermont. The stars there seemed closer to the earth. I go to my desk and click on my laptop. There is some research I need to do.