Cross Climax II

by Tiana Laveen

  “Nani ka mondai desu ka? (Is there a problem?)” Arashi asked, his voice slightly elevated.

  “She’s Black!” his mother whispered. “You didn’t tell me she was Black! You said ballet, her name ‘Angel’ – I thought probably White girl. Not this!”

  “So what!” Arashi responded.

  “Your grandparents will never understand this, Arashi! You left Ryoko for this?” his mother hissed.

  “Ryoko? You think she was such a catch because you set us up? Mom, I had to get the police involved. She’s been harassing me and broke into my house!” Arashi ushered his mother away from the crowd as their voices carried. Arashi’s father came into the living room and saw Angel sitting at the table by herself. He walked up to her.

  “Hello. I’m Arashi’s father. You must be Angel.” He smiled and gave her a hug.

  “Yes, I am. It’s so nice to meet you.” Angel stood up from her seat.

  “Same here. Please, let me get you something to drink. What would you like?” he asked.

  “Water – water would be fine,” Angel smiled nervously.

  “OK, I’ll be right back.” Arashi’s father left and walked over to where his wife and eldest son were in a heated discussion.

  “What’s going on here?” he asked.

  “She’s Black! She’s Black! Arashi, said nothing! Are wa dame desu yo! (This is forbidden!)” his mother whispered.

  “Shiori, please don’t make a scene. We can discuss this later,”

  Arashi’s father pleaded.

  Arashi’s mother stormed off into another room. As she left she warned, “Don’t introduce her to your grandparents! I mean it!”

  “Son, please just give your mother space. I’m going to get your friend a glass of water. I’ll be right back.” His father disappeared into the massive kitchen filled with more people.

  Arashi rushed back to Angel.

  “Are you OK?” he asked, obviously disturbed.

  “Yes, I’m fine,” laughed Angel. “I just feel a little out of place because I don’t know anyone here except you,” she smiled.

  Arashi took her hand.

  “Let me start introducing you to my family.” Arashi found his sister, Riko, in the living room. Riko was a tall, slender, exotic beauty. Her long, black hair was parted down the middle.

  She had on a form-fitting, sable dress and black, thigh-high boots. She looked like a female version of Arashi.

  “Arashi!” she screamed while giving him a hug. She looked out the corner of her eye at Angel. “Kochira wa onii-chan desu, (He’s my eldest brother),” Riko said to her newlywed husband who walked up and shook his hand. Arashi’s face grew flushed.

  He saw that Riko’s husband was White. His mother had raved and raved about this “David” person and how happy she was that Arashi’s little sister found a great man.

  “Hello, my name’s Riko,” she said, brandishing a fake smile to Angel.

  “Hello, Riko. My name’s Angel. I’m…”

  “…Arashi’s friend! Yes, our parents said you were coming.

  Please make yourself at home.” Arashi’s father walked up to Angel with the water. “You moved! You were hard to find,” he smiled kindly while handing her the glass.

  “Thank you.” Angel took the glass and sipped the water. Her stomach was in knots. She felt tension in the room but couldn’t figure out the source.

  “Onaka ga suita?Ima oshokuji shiyou ka, (Are you hungry?

  Let’s eat,)” said Arashi’s father. The large crowd migrated toward the massive dining room table. Young children continued to run and laugh until a loud “shhh” came from an elderly man walking with a cane who approached the front of the room.

  “Oki nasai! (Get up!)” the elderly man yelled at one of the teenagers that was slumped against the wall.

  “That’s my grandfather,” whispered Arashi in Angel’s ear.

  “Scary man, but heart of gold.” Angel smiled and held Arashi’s hand.

  “Shiawase da! (I’m happy!)” The grandfather spoke in Japanese while Arashi whispered translations in Angel’s ear.

  “He says, ‘I’m happy. Happy Thanksgiving. I’m so glad you all are here. Family is essential.

  I love each and every one of you. Life is precious. We’re not promised tomorrow. We must not fight and separate over silly things. We must be strong and stay together. We can’t allow anything to destroy the love we have for one another. You must love your family. They’re your heart. Everyone have a good time. Enjoy each other’s company. Let’s eat!’” Arashi clapped with the rest of his family. Angel followed suit. Everyone took a seat at the table.

  Three young ladies, Arashi’s teenage cousins, had on white aprons and were placing food on the table. There was duck; several baked chickens; three large, whole fish; four turkeys; gravy; cranberry sauce; sushi and sashimi; and an assortment of vegetables. The food kept coming and coming. Arashi pulled out a chair for Angel and sat next to her. Everyone began to pass the serving bowls around and pile food on their large, ivory plates.

  Angel looked around in amazement.

  “This looks delicious,” she whispered to Arashi. Arashi stood up, smiled weakly and said,

  “I’ll be right back. I have to seat my grandmother and serve her plate.” Angel nodded as she watched Arashi disappear and return several minutes later with an elderly woman that could barely walk. Her hair was thin, wispy, and stark white. She shook as she used her elaborate, ornate cane. She was seated at the head of the table, and her husband was at the opposite end.

  Arashi spoke to her in Japanese. She leaned in, held his chin to hers, and kissed his cheek.

  Arashi picked up a golden platter and walked around the table, taking a small spoonful of everything on the table. He neatly presented it to his grandmother, asking for her approval before placing it down in front of her. She nodded, and he placed it on her table mat. He then did the same for his grandfather. Angel felt a flush of warmth come over her body.

  Arashi seemed so caring and dutiful. She could see that his family was very important to him. After the grandparents began to eat, everyone else followed suit.

  Dinner conversation began. Some of it in English, some in Japanese. Angel started to eat her food. Some things she was trying for the very first time. Arashi returned to her side. His mother came back into the room and sat down, but would not make eye contact. After everyone had eaten, people started leisurely leaving the house. Two hours after dinner, all that remained were a mountain of dishes, the grandparents, Arashi’s parents, and his sister and brother with their significant others.

  Angel sat in the living room with Arashi’s father who was watching television by the massive, golden and white fireplace.

  Arashi approached his mother again.

  “Mother, I need to speak to you.” His mother was speaking to his brother-in-law. Arashi looked at his sister and brother-in-law.

  “Alone. I want to speak with you, alone.” Riko rolled her eyes and left the kitchen with her husband.

  “Mom, how could you? How could you act this way? You didn’t speak to me all during dinner. You said nothing else to Angel. You’re very friendly and loving towards David who obviously isn’t Japanese, but you reject Angel when you haven’t even given her a chance.” The hurt was obvious in Arashi’s voice.

  “Arashi, it’ll be hard for you with that girl. I’m sure she’s a nice girl, but she’s not for you.” She turned away and picked up cake crumbs from the counter.

  “You base this on her race. If she were Asian or White, you wouldn’t be saying this. I’m completely disgusted by your behavior,” Arashi snapped.

  “Don’t you talk to me that way!” Arashi’s mother screamed.

  Arashi’s sister ran into the kitchen.

  “Are you OK, Mom?” Riko asked.

  “Yes. Arashi’s forgetting that I’m his mother.”

  “No, Mom, I didn’t forget. That’s what pains me the most, that my own mother’s doing this to me!” He stormed o
ut of the kitchen.

  “Angel, come on. We’re leaving.” Arashi started to put on his coat.

  “Arashi, what’s going on here?” His father stood up from his chair. “Angel and I were having a nice conversation. She was telling me all about her career. It’s fascinating.”

  “Apparently her career’s not as fascinating as her race to Mom,” Arashi said harshly.

  “Arashi, she just needs time," his father urged.

  “Angel, here’s your coat.” Arashi took it off the chair and helped her into it. Angel fought back tears.

  “Dad, I don’t have time. I can’t sit around and wait for Mom to not be racist. I need to live my life now. I’ve been dating whom she wanted me to on and off for the past year without success. Now that I’ve found the right person, she rejects her.

  She cares more about what people might think than my happiness. That isn’t love. That’s selfishness,” Arashi said.

  Arashi’s mother walked quickly into the living room.

  “Okoranaide kudasai, (Please don’t be angry,)” she pleaded.

  “If you’re going to talk about her, do it in English so she can understand you. Be proud to be a racist. Please don’t hide it!”

  Arashi snapped.

  “You don’t listen! It’s out of love that I don’t want you to do this. I’m not racist. I want you to have what you deserve,” his mother pleaded.

  “Arashi, I have to get out of here. I feel sick,” Angel said.

  Her stomach began to cramp with anxiety. Arashi’s father helped Angel outside and handed her a fresh glass of water.

  “Angel, let’s get some air,” he said as he walked her out onto the porch.

  “Oh, do I deserve Ryoko? She was a real prize – a lunatic stalker! What about Hotaru? She was into slapping her men around. Or how about Sakura who I later found out was married to someone already, but neglected to fill you, me, or anyone else in before she spent the night with me when her husband came pounding at my door. I’ve found what I deserve!” Arashi screamed. Arashi’s brother came upstairs from the basement.

  “What’s all the yelling about?” Masaki asked, holding a beer in his right hand and a cigarette in the other.

  “Arashi’s girlfriend – she’s Black,” Riko said, crossing her arms.

  Masaki shrugged, gulping down his beer. “So freakin’ what?”

  “Oh, you would think it is OK," Riko responded. “You’ll do anything!”

  “You bring shame to our family, Arashi!” Arashi’s mother said. “Black people – they’re just so – loud. They’re not as smart. Why can’t you just be friends with her?”

  “Black people are less intelligent? Hontou ni maji? (Are you serious?)” Arashi’s eyes grew large.

  “Mom, times have changed,” Masaki interrupted. “No one thinks like that anymore. That’s a stereotype. You don’t like it when people call you ‘Chink,’ ‘Chinese,’ ‘Korean,’ or ‘Slant Eye.’ It’s the same thing. Not cool, Mom. Where is this hottie anyway?” Maskai asked.

  “She’s outside with Dad,” said Arashi.

  “Masaki, stay out of this,” their mother responded. Masaki made his way outside to the porch where his father and Angel were, closing the door behind him.

  “Mom, Angel and I are leaving. You don’t have to worry about any shame to the family because we won’t be a part of it!”

  Arashi yelled.

  “Nan’ka? (What’s going on?)” Arashi’s grandfather came into the room. He wore a white robe and slippers and was holding onto a cup of tea. Everyone became silent. The exchange was in Japanese.

  “Ojii-san, nii-chan ga, tukiastte-iru iru josei wo tsurete-kimashita. Kanojo wa kokujindesu, (Grandfather, Arashi brought a young lady he’s dating to dinner this evening. She’s Black,)”

  Riko said.

  “Otou-san, hontou-ni gomen'nasai. (Father, I’m so sorry.)”

  Arashi’s mother’s eyes welled up with tears.

  “Osoraku kazoku ni haji o motarasu deshou. Arashi wa kite kuremasen. Kono josei to detoshite iru to, sore ga tsunagaru koto o osorete… (I know this brings shame to the family.

  Arashi won’t listen to me. He’s dating this woman, and I’m afraid of what it’ll lead to.)” Arashi’s grandfather looked at him with deep concern. Arashi dropped his head in submission, but his facial expression remained angry.

  “Suwari-nasai! (Sit down!)” the grandfather commanded everyone.

  “Arashi-kun, kore wa hontou? Kon'ya anata no garufurendo o mita no wa kokujin?

  (Arashi, is this true? Is that Black girl I saw tonight your girlfriend?)” he asked.

  “Hai, sore ga… (Yes, grandfather, it is.)” His grandfather slowly sat down on the massive, ivory and golden loveseat and sighed deeply.

  “Arashi-kun, haha niwa, nan ni shitermo betsujin ni teinei ni suru you oshieta wake. Orejishin, okaa-san wakamono jidai, Amerika ni tsurete-kitekara mo, kokujin ni-tsuite shitsurei-na koto mo itta mono da. Sore izen, kanojo wa kokujin tono keiken mo nakatta. Ore wa, misedeno kokujin tono yokunai keiken mo atta. Demo, son’dake ja, yoi keiken mo atta wake.

  (Arashi, I taught your mother to be polite to people no matter how different they are. I said racist things about Black people as she was growing up when we moved to America. She had no experience with Black people before that. I had some bad experiences with Black people at the store your grandmother and I ran. I met good Black people, too, though.)” He breathed heavily then continued.

  “Hontou ni ai-shiteru? (“I need to know if you love her,)” his grandfather asked.

  “Hai, taisetsu de gozaimasu. (Yes,)” Arashi answered in Japanese.

  “Everyone, leave the room,” the grandfather directed.

  Arashi’s mother and sister departed to the kitchen.

  “Arashi-kun, sou da to, jibun de susumi-kata o kangaeru-beki.

  Mou, wakamono ja, jishinde oku-san o kimeru mono desu. Ore jidai no shuukan mou kankei nai darou. Yoku rikaidekinai kedo, Arashi-kun no handan wa shinrai dekiru. Atama ga yoi, zo.

  (Arashi, if you love her, you will have to do what you think is best. You are old enough to choose your own mate.

  The customs I grew up with are no longer in fashion. I don’t like this, but I trust your judgment. You were born with a good head on your shoulders.)”

  “Sumimasen, (Thank you, Grandfather,) ” Arashi said, looking down into his hands. Theycontinued to speak in Japanese to one another.

  “When I was your age, this was almost unheard of. We didn’t mix with Blacks. We did with Whites, but not often. If you marry her, she needs to follow Japanese customs for the wedding. If she does, I’ll accept her as one of our own. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, Grandfather. I understand,” Arashi answered. “We’re not even close to those discussions, though, Grandfather. It’s never been brought up. We’re just dating,” Arashi responded.

  “Yes, but you brought her home to us. That is very serious.

  You may not have said anything to her, but I know you, Arashi.

  You’re my first born grandson. I know you would not have brought her here without that in mind.” His grandfather leaned forward in his chair.

  “I leave you with this. Just because something is not easy does not mean you do not do it. It was very hard to leave Japan and come here and start with nothing. We made it work. You date, love, and marry whomever you want, but do not forget what you are and where you came from. Never forget your heritage, and make sure your children know who they are too.”

  His grandfather stood up and hugged him lightly.

  “Bring her and her bags back in here. She’s staying the night like everyone else.” Arashi walked to the front door, opened it, and asked for everyone to come back inside the house.

  Angel, Masaki, and Arashi’s father came back inside laughing and talking. Arashi’s grandfather looked at her. Arashi motioned for Angel to come into the living room. Angel walked in slowly with her hands folded in her lap. Arashi’s grandfather took his glasses from his
robe pocket. He looked her up and down and smiled.

  “Hijo ni kurai ga, kirei da. Kanojo mo ai-shiteru darou.

  Kanojo no me ni mieru. Ai wairo wa shiranai. Kono onna no ko wa, sentaku suru baai, ukeireru. (She’s very dark, but pretty.

  She loves you too. I can see it in her eyes. Love has no color. I’ll accept her, if she is whom you choose.)”

  Arashi wiped the lone tear that fell from his eye as his grandfather left, retreating back to his bedroom to finish his tea.

  Angel walked up to Arashi and hugged him.

  “What did he say, Baby?”

  “He said he’s cool with you.” He kissed her on her forehead.

  Angel pulled Arashi aside.

  “Arashi, your mother obviously has a problem with me. Your family’s very nice, but I don’t feel comfortable staying here,”

  she whispered.

  “Because of her?” Arashi asked.

  “Yes,” Angel replied, avoiding eye contact.

  “My grandfather would really like for you to, but I’m not going to make you do something you’re not comfortable with.

  Let me say goodbye to everyone, OK?” Angel nodded while Arashi walked into the kitchen. His mother sat at the kitchen bar.

  Her eyes were red, and she held a balled-up Kleenex in her hand.

  Arashi was unaware that his grandfather chastised his daughter for her behavior when he walked out of the living room. Arashi sat next to her and rubbed her back.

  “Mom, Angel and I are going to leave. I’m sorry that you’re upset. You’ve made it clear how you feel, and I’ll respect that, just as you’ll have to respect that this is the woman I’ve chosen to be with. I love her, and nothing you say or do is going to cause me to want to leave her. I love you, Mom. Respect the fact that this isn’t your decision.”

  “Arashi,” his mother said, sobbing, “I just don’t understand.

  You’re successful, handsome, and such a sweet boy. Why would you choose her?”

  “Mom, I don’t think you’d understand no matter how I explained it. All I know is that you’d be happy for me if her skin looked like mine, and I find that really sad. This isn’t about you; it’s about Angel and me. It’s about what makes us happy. This is our life, not yours. If you can’t respect that, then the consequences will be yours,” Arashi said calmly.