In Sight of Stars(65)

“Yeah … so, listen. When can I come home? I think I’m ready to come home.”

Silence on the other end, then the sound of my mother hiccupping back tears.

“We’ll talk to Dr. Alvarez. We’ll see if we can get you checked out this weekend.”

“No rush,” I say. “Another day or two won’t kill me. Plus, I want to say goodbye, and Dr. Alvarez doesn’t come back in until Monday.”

Day 13—Evening

I sit on the edge of the pool and swirl my legs, making waves while I wait for Sister Agnes Teresa.

She’s in the corner, draping pieces of clothing over a chair. Tonight, she’s left the room lights off altogether, leaving only the pool light on.

“So peaceful this way, don’t you think?” she asks, but tonight it agitates me.

I’m melancholy and filled with despair.

I miss my father.

I miss all the things I never got to say. The things that he needed to hear.

“It wouldn’t have mattered to us,” I whisper aloud to him, swishing the water once more. Blue-green ripples journey outward, bouncing the light, and casting illusive ghosts about, which flit and dance across the dark tile walls.

*

“Many years ago,” my father begins, “there were two boys, named Liu Ch’en and Yuan Chao. They were cousins.”

I roll my eyes. Of all the stories my father tells, Liu Ch’en and Yuan Chao is his favorite. I like his stories, but I don’t get this one. I don’t get what he wants me to understand.

It’s presunrise. We’re on vacation again, maybe somewhere in Mexico. He’s taking me fishing. We’ve left Mom in the hotel room to sleep.

Dad leads me down a dock to the edge of the water. There are big rocks, slick with moss that we have to cross over, so he holds my hand tightly as he pulls me forward.

“It’s important to be careful,” he says, looking back at me, “but not too careful. If you’re too careful, you’ll never do anything.”

Eventually, we reach the large flat rock the concierge told us is a fishing spot called Fisherman’s Boulder. Dad sits and nods at me to do the same. His long, bony legs are bent up in front of him. I sit, folding my knees the same way.

“Isn’t this heaven?” he says. “I’d like to paint it.”

“It is,” I say. “We should have brought our paints.”

“We’ll fish instead. And paint in our heads.”

“Okay,” I say. “So tell me the story. About Liu Ch’en and Yuan Chao.”

“They were cousins,” my father says.

Whenever Dad tells stories, the kids are always cousins or “only” children like me, never siblings, so I wonder if Liu Ch’en and Yuan Chao were really brothers, and Dad just says they were cousins so I don’t feel sad.

“Yep, I know that part,” I say.

“So one day Liu Ch’en and Yuan Chao go into the hills to fetch water, a chore their mothers have asked of them. The walk to the stream is a joyous one. The hills are lush with springtime. Flowers everywhere.”

“The stream is in the hillside?” I ask.

“Yes,” he says. “Well, through the hills to a clearing. Anyway, the cousins are overcome by the beauty of it all. They put their pails down and set off for a walk. They walk and they walk, and the countryside grows more sparse with each step, until the path they’re on ends, and they find themselves at the entrance to a cave.” Dad nods across from where we sit, as if there is a cave there, but all I see are boats and water.

“They want to go into the cave, but a blue fairy sits on either side of the entrance, each on a large stone, like this one.” He pats the rock under us. “Only there, it is dry. The stream is gone.”

I lean my head against his shoulder, not caring if we fish at all, just happy to be here with him.

“At the fairies’ feet is a white rabbit,” my father says, stroking a hand through my hair. “The rabbit keeps hopping up and down. Up and down. Up. Down. Each time it jumps, the flowers at the mouth of the cave blossom, opening into full bloom. And, each time the rabbit sits, the flowers wilt and close.

“For many minutes, the fairies watch the rabbit like a game. The cousins, Liu Ch’en, and Yuan Chao, are mesmerized.

“After a while, the fairies ask them, ‘When did you arrive?’

“‘A few minutes ago,’ Liu Ch’en answers, looking to Yuan Chao. ‘Not more than that,’ Yuan Chao confirms. Broken from the rabbit’s spell, they turn to leave. But the fairies say, ‘No, you cannot go now. You must stay here in our grotto. If you go home now, no one will recognize you.’

“The boys don’t understand what the fairies mean and cry out in protest. ‘No! No! We must go home.’ Seeing that they can’t persuade the cousins to stay, the fairies give them each a reed, and say, ‘If you find everything changed at home, return here and the reed will open this cave.’

“So, Liu Ch’en and Yuan Chao take the reeds and return to their stream to collect their buckets. But when they get there, the stream has dried up and the terrain is unfamiliar. Perplexed, the boys flee to their village, but they find no trace of their home.”

“Where is the house of Liu Ch’en and Yuan Chao?” I jump in, remembering this part from when he’s told it before.