Free The Rent Collector by Camron Wright

What did she want?”
    “It was when you were still out— working. ” He emphasizes the word and I can’t tell if he’s making fun of me for looking for literature in a dump or if he is resentful that I’m not gathering my share of recyclables. When he pokes me and begins to laugh, I’m relieved it’s the former.
    “You didn’t say what she wanted.”
    “She said she found something, but didn’t say what.”
    I take a generous breath, try not to sound excited. “But she didn’t leave anything?”
    “Not with me. She mentioned that she was watching Nisay on Friday and would give it to you then.”
    That would be the day Sopeap is coming, the day of our lesson, and that means one thing is certain—waiting until Friday to see Narin is not an option.
    “I’m not really tired yet,” I say as I roll over and stand up in the darkness. “Perhaps I’ll go out for some fresh air.”
    Ki laughs so loud that Nisay stirs. I guess it is pretty funny, when one associates fresh air with the aroma and haze of the dump that permeate our home at night.
    “Take the light,” he says, not bothering to ask where I’m going or how long I’ll be gone. “And take the path in front of the homes, around the perimeter. It’s longer, but it’s safe. Don’t even think about cutting across the dump.”
    I kiss him quickly, then grab the light that he’ll sometimes use to pick in the dark when we have enough to pay for a charged battery. I don’t bother clicking it on inside, as I’m afraid it won’t work and he’ll insist I stay home. The moon is out anyway, and there is sufficient light to see my way just fine.
    When I arrive at Narin’s, I strain, hoping to see a glow coming from inside. There isn’t one. Should I turn around and go home empty-handed?
    “Narin?” I call out through an open window.
    Nothing. I try again. “Narin?”
    The door to the home opens and my cousin steps out. “Sang Ly? What’s wrong?” she asks, her voice ringing with worry.
    “Everything is fine. It’s just that Ki said you came by. I would have come earlier, but he just told me. Did you find something? Did you find a book?”
    “No, I’m sorry, no book. What I have may be nothing. I was reminded of a simple poem that I learned in the province, one Mother taught me. She would whisper when I was restless and couldn’t sleep.”
    “I’m not sure if a poem is what I need. Sopeap did not say if poems were literature, but I’d love to see it.”
    Narin glances down in the moonlight. “I have nothing written. I don’t read. Instead I remember it. Like I said, I don’t know if it’s what you want, I just—”
    “Narin, I’d love to hear it.”
    She points to the step and we sit, so as to not disturb her children, who are already trying to sleep. She scoots close, and as she begins, I can almost hear my aunt’s raspy voice.
     
    *****
     
Laugh with me, monkey. Bring impish tricks and mischievous heart. Help sorrow waft and cheer restore before the sun sets red.
     
Run with me, tiger, with imposing stripes of orange and deafening growl. Cause enemies to cower and bring my spirit courage.
     
Pull with me, water buffalo. Turn furrowed fields to golden rice that’s sweet. Show true resolve and the strength of a determined mind.
     
Rest with me, turtle, with emerald shield and wisdom old as time. Teach me to value a strong home that will protect against the rain.
     
Swim with me, fish, through renewing waters that are broad and deep and blue. Cleanse my body and keep it cool from the sun’s hot rays.
     
Sing with me, bird. Trill nature’s song and carry tired limbs through indigo sky. Open my eyes to the world’s expanse and Nature’s wonder.
     
Scurry with me, beetle. Remind of life’s short days and of precious time. Tap your violet legs about to keep me alert and prepared.
     
Scurry, beetle—sing, bird—swim, fish—rest, turtle—pull, water buffalo—run, tiger—laugh, monkey. Play together in my dreams. Dance