Counting by 7s(45)

Quang-ha pretends he’s never paying attention to us.

But apparently he is.





Chapter 41





Mai could not remember ever feeling this way.

Maybe it was because her brother hadn’t been scowling so often in her direction.

And her mother hadn’t been telling her to put her things away.

Mai sat on her bed and appreciated that she had an actual room with walls and a door that belonged to her and to Willow.

At least for right now.

Maybe it was the acorn.

Willow had put it on her night table. The kid was slowly beginning to collect things. She had gathered the small, bead-like pods that fell from the trees on Penfold Street.

She found a white feather at the bus stop and a speckled rock in the gutter out front.

Mai felt like it was some kind of beginning.

She knew that any minute they would be told to pack up their things and leave, but up until the very second that happened, Mai was going to enjoy this new life.

So she took long, hot showers, even though that was wasting water and bad for the planet.

She arranged and rearranged her clothing at every possible opportunity, admiring the hangers and the shelving in the shallow closet.

She stretched her arms out wide when she slept so that they dangled over the edge of the bunk bed.

Because now she wouldn’t be hitting a face or slapping the back of a neck.

Mai cut pictures out of magazines and put photos of people she didn’t even know, but just liked, up on the walls.

She found a box of red paper lanterns in the attic storage at the nail salon. She bought a string of Christmas tree lights and threaded them through the round fixtures, which she then hung in the bedroom.

It made the low ceiling come alive.

And what she knew for certain was that the weight of the world no longer felt like it rested entirely on her shoulders.



Jairo drove his taxi across town to the college bookstore.

He stood in the long line at the cash register waiting to pay.

Books were expensive. Especially textbooks.

He held the two pieces of required reading for the introductory course in biology against his chest.

They were both used. That was a good thing. Someone had taken a yellow pen and marked up one of the books.

Jairo hoped that the right parts were highlighted.

Just the idea that there were important sections of the books and other sections that didn’t deserve the swipe of the yellow pen made his stomach hurt.

Suddenly, he couldn’t do it.

He hadn’t been in school in fourteen years.

Now, surrounded by so many young people, he felt old.

Ancient, really.

He was thirty-five years old, but hadn’t he recently found gray hair?

Three strands. They grew on the very top of his head, in the center, shooting up from the thicket of black like the rebels that they clearly were.

Those three hairs were outlaws with the confidence that one day they would conquer their world, which was his head.

Jairo was almost at the cash register when he spun around. He should put the books back. Who was he to think that he could take college courses? Why would anyone ever want him to work in a hospital? How would he pay for a degree?

This was all just a big waste of time.

Jairo moved back to the maze of aisles. But the large store was crowded and he suddenly couldn’t remember where the books had come from.

And there was no way that he was going to just dump the textbooks on the wrong shelf. He wasn’t going to be that guy.

Settle.

New plan.

Just buy the things. Owning them didn’t mean he’d go to class. Maybe he could read the stuff in his spare time. Didn’t he have to wait every day of his life for people?

Who was he kidding? That wasn’t happening.

Could he give the books away as gifts? They were used and had yellow pen marks all over them. What kind of present was that?

Jairo leaned back on his heels and allowed his eyes to close for just the briefest of moments.

He needed to talk to her.

His angel.

She’d appreciate the textbooks.

It was with her on his mind that he stepped back into the line for the third cash register.



The young woman behind the counter rang up his purchases, and when he handed over the cash she hesitated. Did she look surprised? People didn’t seem to pay that way. The woman hit a button to make the register drawer open.

Suddenly a light swirled and a buzzer went off.

Everyone stared.

At him. At the clerk. At the spinning red ball up front.

What had he done?

Jairo felt his face grow hot and then he saw someone who looked official pointing in his direction. The cashier was giggling as she said: “You’re our one millionth customer.”

He had no idea what she was talking about. His expression was blank. She filled in with: “You won! Didn’t you hear about it?”

Jairo shook his head.

Other workers were now assembling and a man in a burgundy jacket appeared at his elbow. He had a pin on his chest that said MANAGER. He held up a camera.

“Smile!”

Jairo tried his best to make his quivering mouth form some kind of grin.

And then he heard a voice from somewhere in the small crowd say: “He won twenty thousand dollars, man! And I was right behind him in line. Unreal.”