Counting by 7s(52)

But then in an instant that vision is gone.

I’m left staring at the red rock and the thistles.

A piece of black plastic that is close to the dryer vent appears to be waving at me like a black flag.

I go upstairs to report my findings.

Dell is on the couch with Quang-ha. Mai is reading a book on her bunk bed. Pattie is at the salon. I say: “I have an idea. I want to plant the sunflowers downstairs.”

Mai is listening, because she shouts from our room: “Downstairs where?”

I forge ahead:

“We could remove the red lava rock heap. There’s dirt under there. I checked. Think of it—-a courtyard with sunflowers.”

Dell looks instantly concerned.

“No way. We’re not removing anything. This place is bank-owned.”

Mai comes into the room.

“The red rocks are pretty gross.”

Quang-ha hits a button on the remote and increases the volume.

Dell has to talk louder now:

“No one touches the red rocks.”

I say:

“Maybe just one section.”

Quang-ha, despite his lack of interest, says:

“My sunflower is bigger than the others. It should go into the ground.”

Dell waves his arms.

“Nothing’s going anywhere. They can stay where they are and be dwarfs. Or whatever happens to things that don’t have enough space.”

Mai doesn’t like the way that sounds.

“In my ‘at risk’ afternoon program we had a whole session on seeking permission for community projects.”

Dell gives her a crazy look.

“This isn’t a community project.”

Mai shoots back:

“Of course it is.”

Dell changes his argument with:

“I’m too busy right now to get anyone’s permission for anything.”

He’s just sitting on the couch with Quang-ha and neither of them appears to be doing much. Ever.

I then say:

“I’ll take the initiative. I can get approval from the bank.”

It comes out like a threat, but I didn’t mean it that way.

Dell looks more than confused. He says:

“How are you going to do that?”



I send Jairo at Mexicano Taxi an e-mail and he answers right away.

He will pick me up from the salon and take me to Bakersfield City Hall tomorrow at ten in the morning.

His message says he has news. He’s been waiting to hear from me.

In the morning, once we are at work, I wait by the front door of the salon for Jairo. I’m usually in the back, so just being up here makes the day feel different.

Pattie says:

“I’m happy that you have a project.”

I nod.

She’s always trying to get me to go back to school, without making it seem like she just wants me out of here.

There’s a fine line between encouraging someone and telling them to get lost.

I understand that.

I don’t say that the idea of leaving the salon for someplace new makes me light-headed.

I’m not good with change right now. I can’t even yet make a variation in my mile running course.

Mai suggested that we jog the opposite way yesterday.

That feels like the most radical idea in the world.

I can’t risk heading in what feels like the wrong direction.



Jairo gets out of the taxi and comes inside so that Pattie can meet him.

She doesn’t like me going off in a car with a strange man. I explain that at this point the taxi driver and I aren’t strangers, but I understand her concern.

I can see that Jairo’s wearing a Bakersfield College T-shirt.

I’m very happy about this.

I didn’t know that Pattie spoke Spanish, but right away they start talking in that language.

I speak Spanish, so I understand as she says what translates to: “This little girl has been through a lot.”

Jairo tells her:

“This little girl changed my life.”

Pattie nods, but he doesn’t say more. She then gives Jairo her cell phone number and says to call if there are any problems.

This strikes me as strange because I’m thinking that I should be the one calling to report the problems, not him.

But I’m looking out the window and trying to let them have their moment.

Or whatever it is that they are doing.

I realize that Jairo is the first person I’ve seen talk to Pattie who she hasn’t tried to order around.

Interesting.



In the car, driving to City Hall, Jairo asks:

“Did you see my picture in the news?”

I have not paid attention in the last few months to news of any kind.

“No, I’m sorry. Is everything okay?”

Jairo is very excited now. Almost jumpy. I hope that he’s watching the traffic and the rules of the road. He says: “I won twenty thousand dollars. I’m using it to go to college.”

I gasp. This is news.

He talks nonstop for the rest of the way about my being his angel, and I have to say that by the time I step out of the taxi at City Hall, I’m feeling pretty good about his life.

Jairo says that he will wait outside, and I explain that this could be a long process.