Counting by 7s(31)

I see that Pattie is silent and her face is sour.

Dell has no idea what’s actually happening. Mai talks so fast: “If we don’t do this, they will keep her here. And then they’ll just stick her in a foster home. She will end up being put somewhere with people she doesn’t even know. She’ll run away again!”

Mai stares into her mother’s eyes.

“She needs us.”

I watch as Pattie breaks the gaze and looks down at Dell’s small hands. He chews his fingernails.

I’m guessing that she hates that. She keeps her eyes on his cuticles and I can see her speaking. She is probably saying: “I don’t want to get involved.”

It’s a strange thing for her to say, because she took a bus over to Jamison as soon as she heard that I had disappeared from the hospital.

If she really didn’t want to get involved, what is she doing here?

And then I see Pattie suck in her breath and cross her arms in a way meant to show firm resolve.

I know that posture well.

It was always my mother’s last stand.



Decisions are made.

I will officially be turned over to my old family friends: the Nguyens.

Temporarily. Just for now.

Is there anything anymore but Now? There was Then. But that world was blown up in an intersection.

I hear logistics being discussed.

At Jamison, they believe the Nguyens reside at the Gardens of Glenwood, which is where Dell lives.

Everything decided today is TEMPORARY.

Again. So that we all understand.

Temporary. Brief. Not permanent. Provisional. Passing. Short-term. Interim.

We all get it.

The temporary arrangement means I must go to Jamison once a week. And I will continue to see Dell Duke as my counselor.

I have been placed on a leave of absence from school because I told them that I didn’t want to go. No one wants to make me do anything right now. They are afraid that I’ll run away again.

Dell Duke has agreed to supervise my homeschooling. He looks guilty when they ask him how I’m doing in my class work.

I think that he might say something about the tests and why I had started going to see him, but he doesn’t.

I don’t care whether he lies or tells the truth.

It’s all taking me to the same place.



Dell drives us all back to Happy Polish.

Everyone is exhausted and silent.

Pattie Nguyen signed all kinds of things back there. So who knows what she just agreed to?

The Old Me would have read every word of that paperwork. The New Me couldn’t care less.

I’m out of there, that’s all that matters.

The sunlight has a way of dulling the world in Bakersfield, and I gaze out the window and everything is like a copy of an original.

The whole place is faded.

It all looks like it would be easy to tear apart.



I’m surprised when we get back to the nail salon and it feels familiar.

The strong odor of the colored lacquers can be smelled out on the sidewalk, even with the door shut.

I’m certain that it is carcinogenic.

Before the world came apart, this would have been a concern.

Now I take a deep breath and hold the noxious fumes in my lungs.

Bring it on. All of it. Bring it on.



Dell hangs around for a while but he’s just in the way.

I can see that he’s pleased with himself as he finally says good-bye and walks to his car.

At Jamison a lot of people thanked him.

And he looks like someone who hasn’t been thanked very often.

One of his shoes is untied but, with his belly leading the way, he has a new swagger in his step.

I don’t see anything anymore, but I can’t help but notice.



According to Pattie Nguyen, who seems to have seen her share of heartache, activity and a glass of water cure almost anything if you give it enough time.

So she makes me drink two glasses of water.

Then she sits down next to me and says:

“I will help find a good place for you. I will not let them take you until we do. You have my word. You will stay here until we have the answer.”

I would like to express my gratitude, but I can’t.

Because I can’t express anything.

I only nod.

Pattie gets up from the table and starts unloading little square bottles of nail polish into the back cupboard.

People usually find a good place for stray dogs, or for the elderly when they can no longer go up stairs or use a can opener.

Finding a good place for a kid seems like a much bigger challenge.





Chapter 29





A memorial service for my parents is held in a neighborhood community center on the second Saturday after the accident.

Dell drives me there and Mai and Pattie come too. Quang-ha has other plans, and I watch him head down the alley with what look like bolt cutters in his backpack.

Lenore meets us at the community center and I see the nurse from Jamison who helped me when I hit my head.

I can’t look at them.

I can’t look at anyone.

As we walk to the front doors, Mai takes my hand. It feels warm.

It is colder than normal and a sea of mostly unfamiliar faces press too close, saying some version of how sorry they are.