doorways, and every flat surface—countertop, table, mantel, shelf—was
crowded with papers, boxes, and unending bric-a-brac. June glimpsed ceramic figurines, a brass swan, teacups, dusty bottles
of whiskey and cognac, vases stuffed with artificial flowers, and jars filled with sesame candy, coins, and seashells. Things
too were in the most unlikely places. Lamps stood on cookie tins in the living room, her uncle’s shirts hung from the handlebars
of a treadmill, a mattress set rested against the dining room table, paper towels were stored inside the fireplace, and books
had been inserted between the balusters of the stairway.
They gave her a can of Coke and invited her to watch television with them. June sank down onto a battered couch that had lost
its cushions. She could feel a bar and springs beneath her. Helen joined her on the couch, her uncle watched from the kitchen
table, and Gerard continued to hover awkwardly in the middle of the family room. Once a skinny boy, he had become tall and
stout, and his thick arms dangled softly at his sides. He didn’t seem to know what to do with himself and put one hand in
his pants pocket.
“Gerard, aren’t you going to sit?” June asked.
Gerard smiled, his lips pressed close together. It was a smirk, but he also seemed genuinely embarrassed.
“He has a poor back,”Helen said.
Her uncle perked up at this, and he began telling June the whole story. A year ago, Gerard began to have back pain and their
doctor told him he had a herniated disk from all those hours of sitting in a bad chair in front of his computer. “He sat like
this,”her uncle said, tipping forward in his chair.
“Oh, that isn’t good,”June said.
“Or he sat like this.”Her uncle crossed one leg beneath him and pretended to type furiously in midair. “You have to sit with
both feet on the ground, you see, Gerard?”
“Okay,”Gerard said with a note of annoyance.
“We bought him an expensive chair.”Her uncle pointed to an empty box in the middle of the room with a shiny black office chair
pictured on it. “The doctor said he should do exercises for his back. And he should pick up things like this.”Her uncle squatted
on the floor and demonstrated how to lift a heavy object.
“Have you been feeling better, Gerard?”
Gerard smiled at June with twisted lips. “Not really.”
“He likes to stand now instead of sit,”Helen said.
“Only seventeen years old!” her uncle sighed.
At midnight, her uncle dragged the mattress and box spring out of the dining room and stacked them on the living room floor.
“Don’t worry, I clean it for you,”he said, and he proceeded to wipe down the entire set with a damp towel.
“That’s okay,”June said, but it was impossible to stop him. He reminded her of her father, who could be obsessive about cleaning
and often woke everyone up with his vacuuming. June waited for the mattress to dry before putting on the sheets, and then
Helen and Gerard wished her good night and went upstairs to bed.
From where she lay, June could see the dim light of the kitchen and hear a clock ticking somewhere in the foyer. Her uncle
was still awake, eating a midnight snack and listening to a Mandarin pop song on the radio.
Helen didn’t seem to have changed much from the tenyear old girl June had known. She was still serious and shy, and she gave
June an impression of thoughtful sincerity. If anything surprised June, it was how calm and centered she seemed.
The biggest change had occurred in Gerard, not Helen.
June remembered he had been a hyper, crazy kid. In all the group photographs of their two families, there was always an adult
hand pressing down on Gerard’s shoulder, an almost rabidgleam in his eyes as he crouched, ready to spring away. June and her
sister had taken their younger cousins and brother to the Baltimore Aquarium one day, and when they went to the cafeteria
for lunch, Gerard loaded as much food as
crowded with papers, boxes, and unending bric-a-brac. June glimpsed ceramic figurines, a brass swan, teacups, dusty bottles
of whiskey and cognac, vases stuffed with artificial flowers, and jars filled with sesame candy, coins, and seashells. Things
too were in the most unlikely places. Lamps stood on cookie tins in the living room, her uncle’s shirts hung from the handlebars
of a treadmill, a mattress set rested against the dining room table, paper towels were stored inside the fireplace, and books
had been inserted between the balusters of the stairway.
They gave her a can of Coke and invited her to watch television with them. June sank down onto a battered couch that had lost
its cushions. She could feel a bar and springs beneath her. Helen joined her on the couch, her uncle watched from the kitchen
table, and Gerard continued to hover awkwardly in the middle of the family room. Once a skinny boy, he had become tall and
stout, and his thick arms dangled softly at his sides. He didn’t seem to know what to do with himself and put one hand in
his pants pocket.
“Gerard, aren’t you going to sit?” June asked.
Gerard smiled, his lips pressed close together. It was a smirk, but he also seemed genuinely embarrassed.
“He has a poor back,”Helen said.
Her uncle perked up at this, and he began telling June the whole story. A year ago, Gerard began to have back pain and their
doctor told him he had a herniated disk from all those hours of sitting in a bad chair in front of his computer. “He sat like
this,”her uncle said, tipping forward in his chair.
“Oh, that isn’t good,”June said.
“Or he sat like this.”Her uncle crossed one leg beneath him and pretended to type furiously in midair. “You have to sit with
both feet on the ground, you see, Gerard?”
“Okay,”Gerard said with a note of annoyance.
“We bought him an expensive chair.”Her uncle pointed to an empty box in the middle of the room with a shiny black office chair
pictured on it. “The doctor said he should do exercises for his back. And he should pick up things like this.”Her uncle squatted
on the floor and demonstrated how to lift a heavy object.
“Have you been feeling better, Gerard?”
Gerard smiled at June with twisted lips. “Not really.”
“He likes to stand now instead of sit,”Helen said.
“Only seventeen years old!” her uncle sighed.
At midnight, her uncle dragged the mattress and box spring out of the dining room and stacked them on the living room floor.
“Don’t worry, I clean it for you,”he said, and he proceeded to wipe down the entire set with a damp towel.
“That’s okay,”June said, but it was impossible to stop him. He reminded her of her father, who could be obsessive about cleaning
and often woke everyone up with his vacuuming. June waited for the mattress to dry before putting on the sheets, and then
Helen and Gerard wished her good night and went upstairs to bed.
From where she lay, June could see the dim light of the kitchen and hear a clock ticking somewhere in the foyer. Her uncle
was still awake, eating a midnight snack and listening to a Mandarin pop song on the radio.
Helen didn’t seem to have changed much from the tenyear old girl June had known. She was still serious and shy, and she gave
June an impression of thoughtful sincerity. If anything surprised June, it was how calm and centered she seemed.
The biggest change had occurred in Gerard, not Helen.
June remembered he had been a hyper, crazy kid. In all the group photographs of their two families, there was always an adult
hand pressing down on Gerard’s shoulder, an almost rabidgleam in his eyes as he crouched, ready to spring away. June and her
sister had taken their younger cousins and brother to the Baltimore Aquarium one day, and when they went to the cafeteria
for lunch, Gerard loaded as much food as
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