Digging to America

by Anne Tyler

  Now her mother was fretting seriously about her frozen foods. She had casseroles stashed in the freezer that she had spent a lot of time preparing, she said. Jin-Ho said, That's okay; we'll bring them to the cookout and grill them, but her mother said, You can't grill spinach lasagna, Jin-Ho. She wasn't talking anymore about what fun this was, and she had stopped saying, Think of the poor Iraqis, which was a good thing, in Jin-Ho's opinion.

  In the end, there wasn't a cookout after all. Mrs. Sansom must have forgotten she'd suggested it. As twilight fell the neighbors disappeared indoors, and all that Jin-Ho could see of them was the glimmer of a candle here and there in a window.

  Jin-Ho's mother carried the flashlight down to the basement and came back with a casserole. I just whipped the freezer door open and whipped it shut again, she said. I don't think I raised the temperature all that much, do you? She put it straight into the oven, but since it hadn't been thawed it took forever to cook. They were waiting, waiting, waiting, and reading books by candles again because there was nothing else to do. Right after supper, which didn't happen till nearly eight, they all went to bed in the king-size bed. Jin-Ho's mother didn't even wash the dishes. I'll do that tomorrow morning, when I can see, she said.

  This is how people used to live, I guess, Jin-Ho's father said. Arranging their lives by the sunrise and sunset.

  Jin-Ho's mother said, Whatever.

  They didn't have their baths, either, although it had been two days now. That was something else that would have to wait till morning.

  And why bother getting up early when they couldn't see to do anything? They slept so late that Jin-Ho's grandpa had to wake them by banging on the front door. Hello? Hello? he was shouting, because the doorbell didn't work. Jin-Ho's mother went to let him in while the others got dressed. Nobody mentioned baths. By the time Jin-Ho came downstairs, her grandpa was sitting in the kitchen watching her mother burn the toast. Jin jin! he said. How do you like roughing it?

  It's getting boring, she told him.

  You just have to pretend you're in Colonial times, honey. That's what I'm pretending.

  Beside him on the table was a pack of disposable diapers. Jin-Ho's mother didn't believe in disposable diapers, but she was running out of the cloth ones. He had also brought three cardboard cups of store-bought coffee, and a quart of Xiu-Mei's special milk, and a rocket-looking silver object taller than Jin-Ho that stood just inside the back door. What's that? she asked him.

  Helium.

  Helium?

  For the balloons we're tying the binkies to.

  The binkies? she said. The binky party! She'd forgotten all about it.

  You know your mom, he told her. She is one determined lady.

  I said today was the day she would give her binkies up, and today it's going to be, Jin-Ho's mother said without turning from the stove. We don't want Xiu-Mei thinking I'm inconsistent. 'Consistency is the hobgoblin of '

  Dad, I don't want to hear it.

  Okay! Okay! He held up both his hands.

  Sami and Ziba are bringing cold drinks, and everything else is room temperature anyhow cupcakes, cookies ... I'm scrapping the ice cream. What more do we need?

  Well, there is the little matter of getting here. Half the city's streets are blocked by fallen trees, or downed power lines shooting sparks, or both. Hundreds of traffic lights are out. The police are advising people to stay off the roads unless it's a life-or-death emergency.

  All our guests think they can make it, though, except for Mac. That little bridge is gone that runs across the bottom of Mac's driveway. But I told him he should try fording the stream in his car, because it isn't really that deep.

  Jin-Ho's grandpa started laughing. It was just a whiskery sound at first, but gradually it took him over until he was gasping for breath and wiping his eyes with his sweater cuff. What, Jin-Ho's mother said. She had turned from the stove to look at him, still holding the toast with her tongs. What is it? What's so funny?

  But instead of waiting for an answer, she turned next to Jin-Ho and said, Where in heaven's name is your father? as if Jin-Ho were the one she was cross with.

  He's dressing Xiu-Mei, Jin-Ho said.

  Well, tell him we have coffee down here and he'd better hurry up if he doesn't want it to get cold.

  When Jin-Ho left the kitchen, her grandpa was blowing his nose on his big white cloth handkerchief.

  Filling helium balloons was hard work. Jin-Ho's father and her grandpa did that, and it made them very crabby because every so often a balloon would escape from the nozzle and go zooming around the kitchen and scare everyone half to death. Bitsy, could you please get these kids out of here? Jin-Ho's father finally said, although it wasn't their fault. In fact Jin-Ho was being a help. She and her mother were tying binkies to the strings of the balloons after they were filled. But her mother said, Okay, girls, let's go have your baths. As they left, Jin-Ho heard her father say, Other people would just order a dozen filled balloons from a balloon place; but not us. Oh, no, no. We have to rent our own helium cannister and fill the balloons ourselves.

  If it were a matter of merely a dozen balloons, that's what I would do, Jin-Ho's mother told her as they climbed the stairs. She seemed to think Jin-Ho was the one who had objected. But we have forty-seven binkies to fly! No, forty-eight, because Xiu-Mei's still using one. Brad? she called down. It's not forty-seven balloons we need; it's forty-eight.

  Unthinkable that we could fly just one or two token binkies, and bury the rest in the garbage, Jin-Ho's father told her grandpa.

  Her mother rolled her eyes. Jin-Ho rolled hers too, because one or two binkies would be boring. Forty-eight would be something to see. They would cover the whole sky.

  So here's what's going to happen, Xiu-Mei, her mother said in a storytelling tone of voice. Everyone at the party will take a couple of balloons and go outside. Let's see: with nineteen people ... or seventeen, at least ... Well, some of us will take more than a couple. You, for instance, because you're the guest of honor. You could take three balloons.

  Four, Xiu-Mei said.

  Four, then. You can take Five. Six, Xiu-Mei said. Apparently she was just practicing her numbers. But six was as high as she knew them; so that was the end of that. She held up her arms for her mother to pull her shirt off. Water was running into the tub and the mirror was steaming over.

  Then we'll say, 'Ready, set, go!' and we'll all let loose of our balloons at exactly the same moment and the binkies will fly up, up, up ... far, far away, and the Binky Fairy will look over the edge of a cloud and say, 'Oh, my, someone's outgrown her binky! I can see I will have to '

  I am not outgrown my binky, Xiu-Mei said. She took the binky out of her mouth so she could speak extra clearly, but then she popped it back in again.

  'I'll have to come down there and bring that someone a wonderful present,' the Binky Fairy will say. And she'll go into her treasure room I am not outgrown my binky.

  Get into the tub, Xiu-Mei.

  It's too hot, Xiu-Mei said.

  It is not too hot! You haven't even felt it yet! You're just being contrary! Oh, Lord ... Jin-Ho, get in the tub, please.

  Jin-Ho was still undressing, but she finished in a hurry. Her mother lowered Xiu-Mei into the water. As soon as she was settled Xiu-Mei put her binky in the soap dish, because she always cried when her hair was washed and it was difficult to cry and suck on a binky at the same time. Jin-Ho climbed in after her, holding on to her mother's shoulder for balance. Mom, she said, with her mouth very close to her mother's ear.

  What is it, honey?

  What do you think her present is?

  Well, we'll just have to wait and see, won't we?

  Do you think it might be an American Girl doll complete with all assessories?

  'Accessories,' you mean; not that that's a word you should have any use for at your age. And no, I do not think that's what it is. I think the Binky Fairy's too smart to fall for a toy that encourages blatant consumerism.

  But
Ziba's smart, and she bought Susan one.

  Her mother let out a breath that puffed the hair over her forehead. Then she said, In my opinion, Jin-Ho, the doll Susan has that's nicest is her little Kurdish doll. You know that doll on her bureau, the one with the long red veil?

  But the Kurdish doll doesn't have any ack-sessories, Jin-Ho said.

  Don't forget to wash behind your ears, her mother told her. Then she stood up and went over to flick the light switch. She'd been doing that all day. Nothing happened, though.

  While they were toweling off, Jin-Ho's mother talked some more about the party. She said, The present will be on the hearth, XiuMei, because the Binky Fairy comes down the chimney just like Santa Claus. And everybody will gather around to watch you open it. Grandpa, Uncle Abe, Uncle Mac perhaps, the Yazdans ... and Lucy is coming, too! Your friend Lucy will be here!

  Is Lucy have her binky? Xiu-Mei asked.

  Her mother said, Oh. Then she said, Well, maybe she will. But that's because Lucy's younger than you. She's a whole month younger! Practically a baby still! I bet when she sees your present she'll say, 'I'm going to give up my binky, too.'

  Xiu-Mei set her front teeth together hard. Her binky made a sound like a door squeaking.

  By the time they came downstairs again, all the balloons were filled and floating up under the living-room ceiling with their long tails hanging straight down and pink, blue, and yellow binkies tied to their ends. Xiu-Mei must have thought it was a dream come true, because she started running around the room with both hands reaching up for them. Some she could touch and set swinging, but most she wasn't quite tall enough for. Her mother said, Won't they look pretty going up in the sky? Xiu-Mei didn't answer.

  While Jin-Ho's mother frosted cupcakes in the kitchen, Jin-Ho and her grandpa went out in his car to fetch lunch from the deli. Somehow Jin-Ho had managed to forget about the hurricane, and it was a shock to see all that had happened the torn-off branches everywhere, ragged white shreddy wood showing on the tree trunks, and here and there a sheet of blue plastic covering a broken roof. Twice they had to go a different way because a street was closed. Almost none of the traffic signals worked; so they drove through intersections extra slowly, her grandpa looking both ways and whistling no particular tune the way he always did when he was concentrating on something. The dead lights reminded Jin-Ho of a doll's poked-out eyesjust that hollow and blank-looking. It was almost as hot as summer, and the men sawing the trees were sweating through their shirts.

  Your mother has really, really creative ideas, doesn't she, her grandpa said. I know sometimes it might seem she goes a little too far, but at least she's . . . invested. Interested. You have to admit she cares deeply, right?

  Jin-Ho said, Mmhmm. She was looking at a tree that had fallen over in perfect shape, as if someone had just laid it gently on its side. She wondered if it could be planted back in its hole the way Brian at school had his tooth planted back after he knocked it out jumping off the jungle gym. His mother had put the tooth in milk and brought it with them to the dentist. How did mothers know these things?

  By the time they got home again, everything was ready in the dining room a flowered tablecloth on the table and platters of cupcakes and cookies and bowls of mints the same pale colors as the binkies. They had their lunch in the kitchen. Jin-Ho's mother barely ate because she was worried about the weather forecast. It was supposed to start raining again. She kept looking out at the sky, which was a pure, bright blue, and asking everybody how they could expect to send up balloons in a downpour. Jin-Ho's father told her not to trouble trouble till trouble troubled her. It was one of his favorite sayings.

  After lunch Xiu-Mei took her nap, and Jin-Ho and her mother got dressed for the party. Jin-Ho put on a red T-shirt and her new embroidered jeans and then she walked into her mother's room and checked her mother's face. She knew that embroidered jeans weren't very Korean. But her mother just said, You look nice, sweetheart, with no sign of disappointment. And she dressed Xiu-Mei in jeans, too, when Xiu-Mei woke up; so it must have been all right.

  Xiu-Mei didn't sleep nearly long enough. Maybe she was excited about the party. Or else upset. And she wouldn't take her after-nap sippy cup of juice but sat in a bundle on a kitchen chair, looking squinty and cross, and sucked her pacifier.

  The first guests were the Yazdans. That was because they were in charge of the drinks. Sami and Ziba were lugging a Styrofoam cooler between them, and everyone went down to the street so that Jin-Ho's father could take Ziba's end away from her. This morning our lights flickered, Ziba said, and I thought, Oh, no! What if our fridge dies? But it was only for a moment.

  She was wearing bellbottom jeans and a black knit top that showed part of her stomach. She looked very beautiful. Her ponytail stuck out straight behind her head like an enormous bunch of grapes, that same kind of purplish black.

  Suppose the adoption people discovered they'd made a mistake. They'd handed the babies out to the wrong mothers. They would say they were very sorry but the girls would have to be switched back. Jin-Ho would get Ziba, and Susan would get Bitsy in her sleeveless sack dress and her sandals that showed the knobs on her toes.

  Wouldn't it be terrible if mothers could read people's minds. Jin-Ho had hoped Susan would bring her American Girl doll, but she didn't. Susan didn't seem to like dolls, actually. What a waste. Instead she whipped a yo-yo out of her pocket that must be what they played with at private school and spun it snappily up and down as she walked. Meanwhile, Jin-Ho's mother was telling Ziba about her frozen foods. It's like the stages of mourning, she said. Denial the first day: maybe the power will come back on before any damage is done. And then grief the second day. You sink into a slough of despair and mentally say goodbye to all your casseroles.

  I have a friend coming, Jin-Ho told Susan.

  Susan said, So?

  Her name is Athena, and me and her play on the sliding board every recess.

  But Jin-Ho's mother jumped in to say, She's not as old a friend as you are, though, Susan! You and Jin-Ho go way back!

  She had this knack for listening to two conversations at once. Why, maybe even your mothers go back! she said. Maybe your biological mothers were best girlfriends in Korea.

  Jin-Ho was very careful not to let her eyes meet Susan's.

  Wouldn't you know it, when Athena arrived stepping from her parents' car just as the rest of them were heading into the house she turned out to be the type that lost her voice around grownups. She stopped short when she saw them all and she stuck a finger in her mouth. Jin-Ho called, Athena! Hey! but Athena only stood there, wearing a frilly white dress and holding a wrapped gift.

  Go and welcome her, Jin-Ho's mother whispered.

  So Jin-Ho went down the front steps calling, Come on! Come on! in an encouraging way, and Athena started toward her inch by inch. When they were even with each other she pushed the gift into Jin-Ho's hands. It was some kind of book, Jin-Ho could tell through the wrapping. She said, Thanks, but Athena said, It's for your sister, which made Jin-Ho feel stupid. She said, I knew that. Then she led Athena toward the others.

  Jin-Ho's mother did the introducing. She bounced Xiu-Mei on her hip and said, Athena, this is Jin-Ho's oldest friend, Susan Yazdan. And Susan's parents, Sami and Ziba, and Jin-Ho's grandpa, Dave...

  Athena put her finger back in her mouth. She wore eentsy colored beads threaded on braids all over her head and another bead in each ear, gold. Jin-Ho had been wanting pierced ears for ages, but her mother was making her wait until she was sixteen.

  It was awkward sitting in the living room because of the balloons. Somehow no one had thought of that. With all those strings hanging down, the ceiling seemed to be raining. The grownups had to duck their heads in order to talk to each other across the room, which made them have poor posture. Then Uncle Abe walked in without knocking and said, Whoa, what is this: a jungle? and Jin-Ho's mother said, Oh, all right, let's move to the dining room. Athena, these are Jin-Ho's cousins, Deirdre, Bridget, Polly .
..

  In the dining room it was awkward too, though, because once the grownups had found chairs, why, there they were, sitting at the table like people expecting a meal, but the only things on the table were the platters of desserts that were meant to be passed around later. Maybe I should bring out some plates, Jin-Ho's mother said. Or ... wait! The drinks! Where'd we put the drinks? Then she got the giggles. She did that sometimes. She told Ziba, Inventing a new tradition is not as easy as you might think.

  Ziba said, I'll get the drinks. You sit still. Because Jin-Ho's mother had Xiu-Mei on her lap.

  Thank you, Ziba, Jin-Ho's mother said, and then she turned to Aunt Jeannine. Someone is a little C-L-I-N-G-Y today, she said. But I guess that's to be expected.

  Aunt Jeannine said, Xiu-Mei, what's that in your mouth? Is that a binky I see?

  It's the one last holdout, Jin-Ho's mother explained. When everybody gets here we're going to tie it to the last balloon and send it up, up, up . . . She seemed to be talking now to Xiu-Mei, but Xiu-Mei only frowned and chomped down on her binky.

  Give her the present, Athena told Jin-Ho. They had managed to sit on the window seat next to Polly, who wore almost-black lipstick and six earrings in each ear, not a one of them matching any of the others. Jin-Ho slid to the floor and walked over to hand Athena's present to Xiu-Mei, and while Xiu-Mei was ripping gift paper the Copelands walked in. Mercy Copeland said, Sorry! But it doesn't seem your doorbell works. She was carrying Lucy, who of course the grownups had to make a fuss about. Lucy was so cute that Jin-Ho just wanted to bite her. Her cheeks were round and soft and her eyes were as blue as flowers and her hair was full of a million yellow curls that made people say, What an angel child! In fact she was a whole lot cuter than Xiu-Mei, who had straight black hair and slit eyes. Also, even though Lucy had brought her binky it was just dangling from her neck on a ribbon a clear plastic binky with colored polka dots inside the plastic, a really fancy kind that Jin-Ho hadn't seen before. So Lucy's mouth wasn't all plugged up the way Xiu-Mei's was. She had a cute, pink, pursy mouth, very small. She was holding a square box wrapped in striped paper, and as soon as her mother put her down she toddled over and set the box in Xiu-Mei's lap. Aww, everybody said, but Xiu-Mei seemed more interested in the polka-dot binky. She leaned forward and reached for it but Lucy was already heading back to her mother. Why, thank you, Lucy, Jin-Ho's mother said, and then, Thank you, Ziba, because Ziba was setting the Yazdans' present on the table in front of her. (The Yazdans always, always brought presents, for every possible occasion. It was one of the best things about them.)