it and cut-off corduroy shorts. His calves are bigger than his thighs and they’re bald and rubberish.
What happened? he asked.
What? I said.
He pointed to my eye. I looked in a mirror on his wall. I had a black eye and I had no idea how I got it. Dirty Diana hadn’t asked me about that either. She touched my hair but wouldn’t go near my eye. I thought maybe I got the black eye from the Future Pill.
I got in a fight, I told him.
Wif who?
This dirty Mexican gangbanger, I lied.
You ruse bad, no?
I said, I whipped him good and then I busted the windshield on his cheap-ass Hyundai with a crowbar. His name is Cortina. You should see
his
face.
Mr. Song laughed.
He said, Yul muddle teach you to fight?
I taught myself, I said.
Well yul daddy? he asked.
I don’t know, I said.
He was like, He reave go bye-bye, no?
He was in the war, I said.
Ilaq? he asked.
I think so, I said. Maybe Afghanisland too.
He said, Afghanistan.
He seemed to get a lot of pleasure from correcting me. I never know how to say those fucking countries where the war is.
About my dad Mr. Song went, He die?
No, I said. He just never came back. He was a ranger.
I don’t know why I told Mr. Song about my dad being a ranger. I felt stupid. Like my insides were shrinking. Or like I would open my mouth and a ant would crawl out.
He said, Maybe he in Ras Begas winning big jackpot.
I was like, Maybe.
* * *
The next day when Mr. Song came over to fix the garbage disposal he brought boiled pork dumplings. While he worked I sat at the kitchen table and ate them out of a Tupperware thing.
You rike? he asked, poking his head out from under the sink.
They’re good, I said.
You eat so fast, he said. Srow down. Enjoy, no?
I nodded and he went back under the sink.
He had this little radio with him. It was set on the floor beside his legs. His calves looked like frozen yellow chicken meat you buy at the grocery store. The kind with cellophane over it. The radio was playing classical music.
I thought about taking the hammer to his knees. It was on the table cause after Dirty Diana left with Cortina I went into her room and made some holes in the wall. Like eight pretty big holes. Then I stuffed her socks and underwears in the holes.
After I finished the last dumpling I took the hammer and went and stood over him. He didn’t know I was standing there cause he was busy with his monkey wrench.
He said, You rike this music, no?
I didn’t answer and he kept working.
Crassicar music good fol the mind and the spilit, he said.
When he finally saw me standing there with the hammer he looked pretty freaked.
He said something in Chinese and then he just stared at me.
You okay? he asked.
I just nodded.
He said, Why you clying?
I touched my face. It was wet but I don’t remember starting to cry.
I said, Here, and gave him the hammer.
I don’t need, he said.
Just take it, I said.
He took it and I left.
Well you going? he asked.
I went over to Orange’s to check on the Frog. While crossing Piano Road I had to wipe my face like five times.
I fucking hate having to wipe my face like that. I’d rather lose a finger.
This lady called the house this morning. She said she was from Children’s Services.
I was like, What’s Children’s Services?
She said, An advocacy organization for the protection of children.
We don’t need protection, I told her.
She said, Thousands of children are killed and abused every year. Thousands.
I went, Not me.
Then she said, Who’s this?
Tim, I said.
I figured I should use my real name with a real person.
She said, Tim Merlo?
Uh-huh, I answered.
She went, Tim, is your dad home? My name is Takada Flowers.
He’s sleeping, I said.
My dad was in the living room. He’d fallen dead asleep with a KFC bucket in his lap.
She said, When he wakes up can you ask him to give me a call?
Why? I said. Does something need to be serviced?
Just have him call this number, she answered.
When my dad woke up I told him some lady named
What happened? he asked.
What? I said.
He pointed to my eye. I looked in a mirror on his wall. I had a black eye and I had no idea how I got it. Dirty Diana hadn’t asked me about that either. She touched my hair but wouldn’t go near my eye. I thought maybe I got the black eye from the Future Pill.
I got in a fight, I told him.
Wif who?
This dirty Mexican gangbanger, I lied.
You ruse bad, no?
I said, I whipped him good and then I busted the windshield on his cheap-ass Hyundai with a crowbar. His name is Cortina. You should see
his
face.
Mr. Song laughed.
He said, Yul muddle teach you to fight?
I taught myself, I said.
Well yul daddy? he asked.
I don’t know, I said.
He was like, He reave go bye-bye, no?
He was in the war, I said.
Ilaq? he asked.
I think so, I said. Maybe Afghanisland too.
He said, Afghanistan.
He seemed to get a lot of pleasure from correcting me. I never know how to say those fucking countries where the war is.
About my dad Mr. Song went, He die?
No, I said. He just never came back. He was a ranger.
I don’t know why I told Mr. Song about my dad being a ranger. I felt stupid. Like my insides were shrinking. Or like I would open my mouth and a ant would crawl out.
He said, Maybe he in Ras Begas winning big jackpot.
I was like, Maybe.
* * *
The next day when Mr. Song came over to fix the garbage disposal he brought boiled pork dumplings. While he worked I sat at the kitchen table and ate them out of a Tupperware thing.
You rike? he asked, poking his head out from under the sink.
They’re good, I said.
You eat so fast, he said. Srow down. Enjoy, no?
I nodded and he went back under the sink.
He had this little radio with him. It was set on the floor beside his legs. His calves looked like frozen yellow chicken meat you buy at the grocery store. The kind with cellophane over it. The radio was playing classical music.
I thought about taking the hammer to his knees. It was on the table cause after Dirty Diana left with Cortina I went into her room and made some holes in the wall. Like eight pretty big holes. Then I stuffed her socks and underwears in the holes.
After I finished the last dumpling I took the hammer and went and stood over him. He didn’t know I was standing there cause he was busy with his monkey wrench.
He said, You rike this music, no?
I didn’t answer and he kept working.
Crassicar music good fol the mind and the spilit, he said.
When he finally saw me standing there with the hammer he looked pretty freaked.
He said something in Chinese and then he just stared at me.
You okay? he asked.
I just nodded.
He said, Why you clying?
I touched my face. It was wet but I don’t remember starting to cry.
I said, Here, and gave him the hammer.
I don’t need, he said.
Just take it, I said.
He took it and I left.
Well you going? he asked.
I went over to Orange’s to check on the Frog. While crossing Piano Road I had to wipe my face like five times.
I fucking hate having to wipe my face like that. I’d rather lose a finger.
This lady called the house this morning. She said she was from Children’s Services.
I was like, What’s Children’s Services?
She said, An advocacy organization for the protection of children.
We don’t need protection, I told her.
She said, Thousands of children are killed and abused every year. Thousands.
I went, Not me.
Then she said, Who’s this?
Tim, I said.
I figured I should use my real name with a real person.
She said, Tim Merlo?
Uh-huh, I answered.
She went, Tim, is your dad home? My name is Takada Flowers.
He’s sleeping, I said.
My dad was in the living room. He’d fallen dead asleep with a KFC bucket in his lap.
She said, When he wakes up can you ask him to give me a call?
Why? I said. Does something need to be serviced?
Just have him call this number, she answered.
When my dad woke up I told him some lady named
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