Jerry if I could, he said No.
I should have asked him for her phone number and called her myself. Maybe I will someday. Except I can’t remember her name.
Then the most wonderful thing happened. One morning after breakfast I went outside and found a kitten outside the back door, mewing like he was hungry and scared. He was all black except for two white paws and the white muff under his chin. When I picked him up he started purring.
I named him Muffy and I loved him with all my heart.
Muffy was an orphan, like me.
When I asked Faye if I could keep him, she said, "No. Cats are smelly."
But I squeezed out some tears and told her I’d keep the litter box in my room and clean it every day. So Faye let me keep him. I loved the way Muffy lapped up milk with his little pink tongue. The best part was the way he purred when I held him and petted his fluffy black fur.
Whenever Randy tried to pick him up, Muffy hissed and scratched him. I was glad. Randy's mean. He's fourteen now, almost as big as Jerry. He plays on the high school football team. I think Faye's afraid of him.
In September I started eighth grade. The boys are still into football, but now they make smart-ass remarks to the girls in the cafeteria. Not to me. I'm twelve, but I haven't filled out like most of the girls. My bra size is 32 AA.
One day I went to the school library to research my father's heritage. I thought it might help me figure out who I was and who I was supposed to be.
I found a great article about Vietnamese culture in an encyclopedia. Reading it made me feel good, like I finally belonged to something. The parts I liked best were Veneration of Ancestors, Devotion to Study, and the belief that certain animals and parts of nature protect people.
I chose birds and mountains to protect me.
But one part scared me. The Vietnamese believe that people who die a violent death become angry spirits who bring misfortune to family members if they don't avenge their death. That made me think of Mom. Murdered in a hotel room. Was Mom waiting for me to avenge her?
If I didn't, would her angry spirits bring me misfortune?
Sometimes I thought about this late at night in my room.
I still didn't have any friends but I wasn’t alone. I had Muffy. He'd snuggle against me and purr while I did my homework or listened to music on the radio. But one day when I went up to my room after school, Muffy didn’t chirp and come running to me like always. He was lying on my bed. His body was limp and his eyes were open and I knew he was dead.
A terrible pain burned my stomach. First Mom, now Muffy.
Then Randy barged into my room. "How’s your precious kitten, slant-eyes? Fuckin cat scratched me once too often so I wrung its neck."
I wanted to kill him. For a long time after Mom died I felt like something had eaten away my insides and left a big gaping hole. When I felt lonely and sad, I could go up to my room and cuddle Muffy.
But now my adorable kitten with the little pink tongue was gone too.
Somewhere deep inside me an iceberg formed, cold and hard. I didn't know if I would ever be able to love anyone again. But I knew one thing. Someday I would make Randy pay for what he'd done to Muffy.
"Get out of my room," I said. "I hate you."
"Shut up you little gook pussy."
That night at dinner I couldn’t eat. When Jerry asked if something was wrong, I shook my head. Faye just sipped her OJ cocktail. Ellen said nothing. Randy bragged about the great play he’d made at football practice.
The next day at sunrise I buried Muffy behind the garage.
_____
We still watched TV every night after supper. Now Randy was into Star Trek reruns. One night we watched an episode from 1968 called Elaan of Troyius. France Nuyen played Elaan. She was so beautiful I thought my heart would stop. The next day in the library I read her biography and found out France Nuyen was half Vietnamese and half French, like me. It didn’t make up for losing Muffy, but it made me proud to
I should have asked him for her phone number and called her myself. Maybe I will someday. Except I can’t remember her name.
Then the most wonderful thing happened. One morning after breakfast I went outside and found a kitten outside the back door, mewing like he was hungry and scared. He was all black except for two white paws and the white muff under his chin. When I picked him up he started purring.
I named him Muffy and I loved him with all my heart.
Muffy was an orphan, like me.
When I asked Faye if I could keep him, she said, "No. Cats are smelly."
But I squeezed out some tears and told her I’d keep the litter box in my room and clean it every day. So Faye let me keep him. I loved the way Muffy lapped up milk with his little pink tongue. The best part was the way he purred when I held him and petted his fluffy black fur.
Whenever Randy tried to pick him up, Muffy hissed and scratched him. I was glad. Randy's mean. He's fourteen now, almost as big as Jerry. He plays on the high school football team. I think Faye's afraid of him.
In September I started eighth grade. The boys are still into football, but now they make smart-ass remarks to the girls in the cafeteria. Not to me. I'm twelve, but I haven't filled out like most of the girls. My bra size is 32 AA.
One day I went to the school library to research my father's heritage. I thought it might help me figure out who I was and who I was supposed to be.
I found a great article about Vietnamese culture in an encyclopedia. Reading it made me feel good, like I finally belonged to something. The parts I liked best were Veneration of Ancestors, Devotion to Study, and the belief that certain animals and parts of nature protect people.
I chose birds and mountains to protect me.
But one part scared me. The Vietnamese believe that people who die a violent death become angry spirits who bring misfortune to family members if they don't avenge their death. That made me think of Mom. Murdered in a hotel room. Was Mom waiting for me to avenge her?
If I didn't, would her angry spirits bring me misfortune?
Sometimes I thought about this late at night in my room.
I still didn't have any friends but I wasn’t alone. I had Muffy. He'd snuggle against me and purr while I did my homework or listened to music on the radio. But one day when I went up to my room after school, Muffy didn’t chirp and come running to me like always. He was lying on my bed. His body was limp and his eyes were open and I knew he was dead.
A terrible pain burned my stomach. First Mom, now Muffy.
Then Randy barged into my room. "How’s your precious kitten, slant-eyes? Fuckin cat scratched me once too often so I wrung its neck."
I wanted to kill him. For a long time after Mom died I felt like something had eaten away my insides and left a big gaping hole. When I felt lonely and sad, I could go up to my room and cuddle Muffy.
But now my adorable kitten with the little pink tongue was gone too.
Somewhere deep inside me an iceberg formed, cold and hard. I didn't know if I would ever be able to love anyone again. But I knew one thing. Someday I would make Randy pay for what he'd done to Muffy.
"Get out of my room," I said. "I hate you."
"Shut up you little gook pussy."
That night at dinner I couldn’t eat. When Jerry asked if something was wrong, I shook my head. Faye just sipped her OJ cocktail. Ellen said nothing. Randy bragged about the great play he’d made at football practice.
The next day at sunrise I buried Muffy behind the garage.
_____
We still watched TV every night after supper. Now Randy was into Star Trek reruns. One night we watched an episode from 1968 called Elaan of Troyius. France Nuyen played Elaan. She was so beautiful I thought my heart would stop. The next day in the library I read her biography and found out France Nuyen was half Vietnamese and half French, like me. It didn’t make up for losing Muffy, but it made me proud to
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