Free Girl in Translation by Jean Kwok Page A

shake.
    “How do you do, Mrs. Avery?” I asked.
    She twisted around and looked momentarily surprised, but then grasped my hand firmly. Her hands were extremely large for a woman’s, almost as big as a man’s, and they engulfed mine in warmth. She smiled, so I could see the wrinkles around her eyes deepen. “How do you do, Kimberly? It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
    As I sat back in my seat, feeling satisfied that I had managed to get through at least one occasion according to the rules of etiquette we’d been taught back home, Annette was already tugging on the boy’s jacket.
    “Let me see that,” she said.
    “Get your own,” he said, not looking up.
    “Mom!” she said. “He’s not sharing!” She tried to pull the comic book from his hands, but her little brother wrenched it back and then scrunched his wiry body next to the window where Annette couldn’t reach him.
    “Stop fighting and let me drive,” said Mrs. Avery.
    It went on like that until we turned onto a beautiful, tree-lined street. The ride hadn’t taken long and I’d never imagined that Brooklyn could look like this, especially such a short distance from the school. There was no graffiti anywhere, no housing projects or construction pits. The cobblestone street was lined with low, elegant houses and gardens. Mrs. Avery parked by a three-story house with some kind of stone structure in the front garden. It looked like a well. When I peered in, however, I saw that it was actually a fountain with water spouting from the center, filled with live goldfish and carp. Not long after that, I dreamed of Mrs. Avery giving me an extra goldfish from her fountain in a plastic bag, perhaps a baby that had just been born. I would take it home and keep it alive in one of our rice bowls. Surely, a goldfish couldn’t be too expensive to keep, since it didn’t eat much.
    Annette and her brother had already run to the top of the stone staircase that led to the main door. Annette grabbed the comic book. Mrs. Avery and I caught up to them and Annette’s brother wailed, “Mom!”
    Mrs. Avery said, “Just give me a minute, okay, honey?” and she managed to get her keys in the lock.
    As the front door swung open, I saw a chandelier hanging from the ceiling, sparkling with light like leaves caught in the rain. When we went in, we stood in an entryway with a polished table and a crystal bowl filled with fresh fruit. I wondered how they kept the roaches away from such an uncovered bowl. The smell of lemon cleanser and cookies mingled into a clean and delicious scent, and a thick carpet formed a walkway of flowers into the house.
    “We’re home,” Mrs. Avery called. I looked down the hallway but instead of seeing a person, I saw a dog racing toward us. The white chow chow hurled itself upon Annette. A large gray tiger cat with a white-tipped tail had climbed down the staircase and was rubbing itself against her brother’s leg.
    “Don’t be afraid,” Mrs. Avery said. “I know they can be over woman if you’re not used to animals but they won’t hot you.”
    Annette’s brother had the cat in his arms and was rubbing his cheek against its thick fur. Annette was giggling like a maniac because the dog was licking her entire face. I couldn’t believe that Mrs. Avery allowed this. Weren’t animals filled with both germs and a great desire to bite you?
    Mrs. Avery bent down to my eye level. “What you have to do,” she said, “is ex-T your hand like this.” She stretched her hand out to the cat. “Come, Tommy. They like to come up to you and smell you, and then you’ll be great friends.”
    I dared to ask a question. I glanced at Annette, who was now sitting on the floor still in her coat and galoshes, bumping her head into the dog’s chest. “They have…?” I didn’t know what to call them and then pretended I was scratching myself.
    “Oh!” Mrs. Avery said. “No, they don’t have any feet. See this?” The cat named Tommy had approached and was