Post by Nicholas Wu on Jan 31, 2009 18:51:29 GMT -5
Nicholas had decided to return home for Thanksgiving break. He had given Danil, Peter, and Kyo prior warning that he would be heading home for the holiday, even though when he’d texted his father about his return, James had warned Nicholas not to come home. Of course, Nicholas knew he couldn’t possibly leave his father alone on the holiday, even if James had asked to be alone. If anything, maybe James didn’t want Nicholas to return to a home that couldn’t possibly support him the way Danil and Peter’s home could. But despite what James thought, Nicholas could never truly call any other place home, especially if his father was not there.
Before going back to Connecticut, Nicholas stopped at one of the supermarkets in Pittsburgh, picking up foods that weren’t necessarily Thanksgiving foods, but were instead James’ favorite things to eat. He bought some shrimp with marinara sauce (a snack both James and Nic had become fond of when they’d moved to America), different types of vegetables, pre-made chocolate pudding, a smaller-sized turkey, rice, and—though he wasn’t sure he would be able to prepare it right—pork and black bean garlic sauce. He’d hoped to buy even more food for them to eat on Thanksgiving day, but he had barely enough money to make it back up to Connecticut and back, so he had to watch his spending. Still, with the food he had bought, Nicholas figured James could keep the leftovers from their dinner and would have plenty to eat for at least the week. Plus, Thanksgiving wasn’t really a holiday that the two of them celebrated, especially because they were immigrants from China. But it didn’t hurt to take the nation-wide proclaimed holiday off just to relax and eat well. Maybe James would even wake up early just to watch the famous Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade on TV. He liked the American way so much that Nicholas could certainly see that happening.
Once he’d bought the groceries, he’d lugged the grocery bags and his one suitcase to the nearest train station, where he purchased a ticket and just barely made it onto the next departing train. The ride was soothing. Nicholas watched the scenery flash from big city to tree-covered hills, especially as they approached Connecticut. After a while, he felt tired and read a little, before falling asleep.
By the time he had reached his destination, it was 6PM. Nicholas’ house wasn’t too far from the train station, but he didn’t want to text his father, asking if he could come pick him up. It was equally possible that James was at work. Instead, Nicholas estimated how much it would cost to take a taxi back home, and in the end, he decided this was his only option.
He reached his home and paid the taxi driver as fairly as he could, then hefted the grocery bags over one shoulder and dragged the suitcase behind him with his free hand. At the front door of his house, he let go of the suitcase and reached out to press the doorbell. While Nicholas had a key of his own to the house, he didn’t want to just enter and risk scaring his father. It was better just to let James know he had come home this way. Also, he could see some lights on through the window. Someone had to be home.
Nicholas waited at least a minute before the door opened. What he saw before him surprised him. A lot.
It was James, but he looked utterly disheveled. He looked as though he hadn’t left the house in months. He was thinner than ever and wearing only an undershirt and boxers—and it was winter! If Nicholas didn’t know his father better, he would have thought James was like one of those stereotype house bums. Nicholas peered into the small hallway behind his father and could see that the place was a bit of a mess.
“Nicholas,” James said, scrunching up his face. Nicholas could smell alcohol on his breath. “I thought I told you not to come home,” he said softly and slowly.
Nicholas suddenly felt shaken up. James rarely drank, and when he did, it was if something very, very bad had happened. When Nicholas had been in the hospital, James had not drunk a single drop, but after that incident, anything bad could set him off. Something awful must have happened for James to be like this.
Nicholas set the groceries down, an anxious look on his face. “Dad,” he said softly, reaching out and wrapping his arms around his dad’s neck. He embraced him tightly.
A moment later, he felt the gentle touch of James’ hand against the back of his head. His father embraced him as though he were still a little boy.
As they parted, Nicholas looked into his father’s eyes and could see a lot of regret there. Now he understood that there had been a very good reason why James had not wanted him home. But he didn’t know what that reason was yet.
“Well, you might as well come in, Nicholas,” James said regretfully. He reached out for Nicholas’ suitcase. “Go on in. I’ll get this.”
Nicholas did as his father asked, stepping into the house, carrying the bags of groceries. It was so cold in here. Why hadn’t his father turned on the heat? He didn’t wait for James, but instead walked right down the hall to the kitchen.
Everything was a mess. There were dirty dishes, cups, and silverware piling up on every surface area possible, all waiting to be washed. There were three garbage bags at the far end of the room, all tied up and ready to be tossed out, yet none of them had gone anywhere. On the table that he and his father normally ate at, there were open newspapers tossed everywhere. And worse—empty beer bottles accompanied all the newspapers. Nicholas’ heart sank at the sight of it.
“Dad?” he called trying to mask his disappointment and sadness, setting down his grocery bags and walking back into the hallway. He peered into the living room, which was equally disheveled, but his father was not in there. Just as he turned around, however, he saw his father coming out of his room.
“Sorry, son. Just putting your suitcase in your room. We should go eat,” he added thoughtfully, patting his stomach. He stopped when he saw the look on Nic’s face. “What’s wrong?” he asked, though it was clear to Nicholas that James knew exactly what Nic wanted to know.
Nicholas swallowed. “Dad…? Did something…happen?”
James looked at Nicholas as though he had just been punched in the face. Even though he had drunk at least one bottle of beer, he still seemed to be sober. He sighed. “Let’s talk in the living room.”
Nicholas followed James into the living room, which had become just as messy as the rest of the house. The lights were all turned off, except for one small lamp in the far corner of the room. The TV was turned on, but the TV set was an old one, so the picture on the screen was fuzzy and distorted. This room, too, was freezing. Nicholas wondered how James could be wearing the outfit he was wearing and not be cold.
“Dad,” he said scoldingly, wrapping his arms around himself to warm himself up. “It’s freezing in here! Why didn’t you light the fireplace?” In fact, it was colder in the house than it was outside. Nicholas was sure of it.
James shrugged. “I didn’t feel like cleaning it out. I’ve got some blankets here anyway.”
Nicholas got up from the couch and knelt down in front of the fireplace. He grabbed the nearby dustpan and brush and began sweeping some of the ashes out of the fireplace. The dust sent him into a coughing fit, as some of it got in his eyes, nose, and mouth. He wiped at his face, set a couple of logs on the hearth, then grabbed the matches off the top of the fireplace, lit one, and tossed it into the fireplace.
The logs immediately caught fire and sent up a small but powerfully warm blaze that helped to lighten up the dim room. When Nicholas was done with the task, he clapped his hands together, trying to remove some of the ashes from them, then went to join his father on the couch.
He could tell by his father’s face that James had been telling him to forget about the fireplace the whole time he had been working, but of course they both knew he wouldn’t be able to see what he was saying with his back to him. Instead, Nicholas grabbed one of the worn blankets off of the couch and wrapped it around his father.
“OK, you can tell me now,” Nicholas said, slipping into Chinese as he settled down beside James. He knew that James, in many ways, disliked the way Nicholas cared for him so much—especially because he believed Nicholas was still young and that it was still his job to look after Nicholas—but he also knew that James was perhaps comforted by the knowledge that Nicholas cared about him so much. If James were still a believer in Confucian thought, he could certainly brag that he had the perfect filial son.
James let out a long sigh. It sounded as though he were taking his time, not wanting to state the facts. But when he looked into Nicholas’ eyes, he knew he couldn’t hide the truth. He sighed again.
“I was fired from the gas station,” he said mournfully, answering his son in the same dialect.
Nicholas’ heart sank even further. He could feel a sharp pain in his chest. He knew how much that job—simply because it was a job—had meant to James. But somehow…somehow he had known James was going to say something like this.
“They…they just fired you?” Nicholas asked, his mouth dry. “They didn’t give you any warning?”
James shook his head. “Oh, no. They gave me plenty of warning. Sometime right after you left for college, they started laying me off. I’d been laid off ever since, and then…” He shook his head. “…They fired me.” He punched the air. “I should have seen it coming! Shoulda been looking for another job in the meantime.”
Nicholas thought for a moment. James had been “jobless”, it seemed, for quite some time. Had they not been paying him since September?
Nicholas shook his head. “It is just the times. Many people are being laid off now. I don’t think you could have expected to be fired.” Still, he knew his words could not comfort his father. James, despite the fact that his job as a gas station attendant had always left him exhausted at the end of the day, had not minded his job. It paid decently and kept a roof over his head and dinner on the table. It was more than other families were getting.
“Maybe,” James said, but Nicholas knew he didn’t believe him. “I just don’t understand. I thought I was doing so well at that job. I mean, there’s not much to do, is there? You just pump gas, change tires, wash windows. It’s not like it takes a mechanical engineer to do that kind of work.”
There was a long pause. Nicholas spoke next, dreading the answer to the question he was about to ask. He took a deep breath. “How long has it been since you were paid?” he asked softly.
James avoided his son’s gaze. “A couple of weeks now,” he said quietly. “I’ve been living off the money I’ve saved up over the years. They took the heat away, since I can’t pay for the bill. That’s why the house is so cold. But hell,” he added, clapping Nic suddenly on the back. “You cleaned out the fireplace and we’ve got warmth now, so who needs the damn heat?”
Nicholas listened to James’ words and knew that his father was in a bad situation. This was what had happened when Nicholas had left home. As much as James denied it, he needed both the income of himself and his son to keep living here. Suddenly, Nic knew that it had been a bad idea to go back to college.
And yet, while this weighed down on his mind, he didn’t say anything yet. He knew it wouldn’t do any good to force the truth on James all at once, especially when James was now facing the shame of being unable to support his family. “Have you…have you been looking for another job?” Nicholas asked, being careful not to betray his own thoughts.
James nodded. “Of course, of course. I’ve been checking the local newspaper every day.”
Nicholas thought back to all the newspapers he had seen on the kitchen table.
“It seems like all the jobs now require some kind of prior experience that I don’t have,” James continued, sighing again. He leaned forward, resting his head in his hands.
There was another long pause. Nicholas reached out and rubbed his father’s back. He looked towards the room’s only window, where the curtains were drawn tightly closed. Many thoughts coursed through his mind at once. He was considering every possible option he had. He could finish out the semester and come back home to help his dad with work. Or he could just quit now—then he could worry about supporting his family instead of writing a term paper. Whatever his decision, he was at Penn State on scholarship, so he had nothing to worry about in that regard. But, at least, if he dropped out, he could stay here and help his dad find work. That, or the two of them could move—again—and find a place with more career options.
“Dad…I…” Nicholas swallowed hard. He knew that his words were going to hurt his father. They would hurt him too—especially since he had put so much effort into his college work. But he had to say it. This seemed the only way he could help his father, who was in a desperate situation. College didn’t matter anyway. In a place like this, where people were constantly struggling for jobs, what was most important was to find a job—any job—and grab it ASAP. It was no better than China.
“I think…I think I should drop out of Penn State,” Nicholas said slowly. He bit his lip, fearing that his father would be angry with him.
James’ head whipped up and he stared at his son. “Drop out? Why? Do you know how prestigious Penn State is?” He looked at Nicholas fiercely. “You will not drop out just to stay here and play housewife.”
“But father, this isn’t right! I should be here, helping you. I know you are my father and my elder and you feel that you should be supporting the both of us, but…” he sighed, suddenly realizing what the problem was. He’d grown up too fast. It seemed as though James was stuck in the past, or at least willing his son to be ten years younger again. It was true that after the incident, Nicholas had become less and less like a kid, especially when he, at age 14, began to assume adult responsibilities. Before even he had known it, he had gotten a full-time job instead of going to college. But he had tried to act his age. It just hadn’t suited him.
Now he could understand, though. While Nicholas had lost most of his innocence at an early age, James had lost his little boy too. Coming to this realization, Nicholas suddenly felt extremely wary. Worse, he felt distraught for his poor father. Obviously, there was much more of a reason as to why James was in the state he was in.
Having just come home, Nicholas decided that the best thing to do right now was not to talk about dropping out of Penn State. And he wouldn’t make his father talk any longer either.
“Dad, let’s not talk about this right now. You want to watch TV? I can go make us something nice and hot to eat.”
James looked small beneath the blanket Nicholas had wrapped around him. Nic wondered if he had been eating anything, since he had been running solely off of his savings. Though James looked a little stubborn, he nodded. “Sure, kid,” he said. “I’d like that.” He patted Nicholas on the back, then rested back on the couch, staring at the blurred TV screen with unreadable eyes.
When Nicholas had left the room, even though he knew Nicholas could not hear him, he muttered softly under his breath, “You’re too good for me, child.”
In the kitchen, Nicholas spent the first ten minutes scrubbing down the stove. There were pieces of old food stuck in the gas burners on the range, so he had to remove each one to clean them out. When he’d finally cleaned out the stove, he washed out a large pan and set it aside. He’d been hoping that there might be some soup left in the house, but when he checked the food cupboards, there was nothing but the “Minute-maid rice” that James was fond of, since it was so easy to cook. Of course, there were only a few packets of those left too. Sighing, Nicholas finally remembered the groceries he had brought home and began stowing them away into their proper places. He hoped that none of the meats had gone bad without refrigeration for such a long time. As he was putting things in the refrigerator, he realized that the fridge—much like the food cupboards—was also empty, save for two bottles of milk and water and—to his dismay—a carton of beer bottles. As much as he wanted to throw those away, he knew it wasn’t fair to his father, who had actually used his money on that.
Considering the food he had brought home, Nicholas decided to make James’ “Minute-maid rice” first, since it would be fastest to cook. Then, when he had washed out enough pans, he would cook the pork with the black bean garlic sauce and maybe add some chopped broccoli to it. Even though it was late and he was exhausted, he was sure that James had not eaten properly for a while. They had plenty of food for tomorrow, so it was better to eat what they could tonight.
As the food was cooking, he felt tempted to go back to the living room to check up on his father, but he knew that James would hear him coming and feel like Nicholas was just being overprotective. Instead, he stayed behind to watch the food so that it cooked right, but meanwhile cleaned up the kitchen, taking out another garbage bag and filling it with the beer bottles and newspapers—all except the most recent ones. When the rice had finished cooking, Nicholas set the bowl down on the newly scrubbed down kitchen table, where it could steam for a little while. The pork was still cooking and soaking in the black bean garlic sauce. Nicholas only flipped each piece over once, when he was sure the bottom side had become crispy enough. While he was finishing up with the meal, he began washing the dishes that had become piled up and put them in the dish washer. The ones that didn’t fit were put in the drying rack near the kitchen sink, so they could air dry.
By the time he was done fixing up the kitchen, the dinner was ready. He still had some cleaning to do in here—mopping the floor and washing the counters—but he had left his father long enough and decided to bring the meal out to him.
Balancing two plates of the meal, he made his way back into the living room.
“Here you go, dad,” he said, setting one of the plates on his father’s lap. James looked down at the food, then up at Nicholas, wide-eyed. “Damn, Nicholas! I was wondering what you were doing in there! You made us a feast!”
Nicholas couldn’t help smiling a little. “It’s not that special, dad. I didn’t make the sauce or anything.” He sat down beside his father.
“Doesn’t matter. Looks delicious anyway. Thanks, kid.” He grinned and embraced Nicholas with one arm. Nicholas accepted the hug, feeling a little warmer inside and out.
James let go of him, and the two began eating. The TV had been switched to a station that was less blurry. “Wheel of Fortune” was on, a game that Nicholas had always been good at playing. For some reason, today was no exception. With the first clue, “Places”, Nicholas solved the 18-letter phrase when only three letters had been placed on the board.
“The Pyramids of Egypt,” Nicholas said as he took another bite out of the pork.
James slapped him in the side.
“Wei!” Nicholas shouted, surprised. He looked at James and saw he was actually laughing.
“I was trying to guess that one! Give someone else a chance. Jerk,” he added jokingly.
Nicholas laughed too. “Sorry, sorry. You can have the next one to yourself, I promise.” More than anything else, he was just happy to see his father looking more cheerful. Nothing could have shocked him more than the sight that had greeted him when he had arrived home. Seeing James like this lessened the burden on his heart. He felt himself beginning to relax.
With the next clue, Nicholas immediately knew what the answer was, simply from the number of letters in the one-word clue. The category was “Names”. He looked at his father, who was staring at the screen intently, his face scrunched up as he thought about what the word could possibly be. Even after several letters had gone up on the board, he still had no idea. Finally, he looked at Nicholas, and Nic grinned.
“Cleopatra,” Nicholas whispered to James, thinking that his father had turned his way to confirm the answer. Nicholas had no idea why the game show was so set on Egyptian-themed things this time around.
“Hey!” James said, smacking Nicholas again. He grinned. “Did I ask you for the answer?”
“You looked at me,” Nicholas offered.
“I didn’t ask you,” James told him, but he was still smiling.
The two finished dinner, and Nicholas returned their plates to the kitchen, where he left them in the sink to be washed later. He was tired of chores at the moment and wanted to spend a little more time with his dad.
They only ended up watching a few more shows together—in which they both ate some of the chocolate pudding Nicholas had bought for dessert—before both of them got sleepy. Nicholas got sick of reading the slightly blurred subtitles and James ultimately grew tired.
“Well, I’m going to head off to bed,” James told Nicholas, clasping his son’s arm.
Nicholas nodded. “I think I’ll be going to bed soon, too. I’m just going to do a few more things first.”
“Schoolwork?” James asked hopefully.
Nicholas paused. He had been thinking more along the lines of cleaning up the house. He had hoped that he could get the house spotless by the next morning, in order to surprise his dad on Thanksgiving day. “Sure,” he said softly, not wanting to destroy the happiness they had felt just from spending some time together.
But it seemed James knew that Nicholas was not telling the truth. “OK, son,” he said, a strained look on his face. He put a hand on the back of Nic’s head, and drew him closer, giving him a kiss on the cheek. “Go to bed soon though, you hear?”
Nicholas nodded. “Good night, dad.”
“Good night.”
James left the room and, when Nicholas was sure he had gone to bed, he began cleaning up the living room. He put books back on the bookshelf, dusted the curtains and over the fireplace. He rearranged the pillows on the couch and folded the old blankets at one end of it, so that the place looked more presentable. When he felt he had done as much as he could for the room (he knew he couldn’t vacuum and risk waking up James), he turned off the TV and put out the fire in the fireplace, then shut off all the lights and left the room.
The hallway was messy too and, of course, freezing. There were coats and clothes lying around that belonged in closets, but Nicholas knew he couldn’t do the laundry tonight. Instead, he heaped all the clothes together and tossed them into the laundry basket in the bathroom. The last thing he would do for the night, he decided, was finish up in the kitchen.
Without any food to watch on the stove, he was able to take out the trash and then mop up the floor and wash the counters. By the time he was finished, the kitchen looked nearly brand-new again. At least, it looked the way it had looked when they had first moved here.
For the time being, Nicholas was content with the work he had done. His arms and back were starting to ache anyway, and he thought perhaps it was about time he finally went to bed. It was nearing two in the morning.
He trudged from the kitchen, down the hall, and into his bedroom. The room was ice cold. He literally shivered when he walked into the room. He wondered if James’ room was just as cold and hoped James had enough blankets.
Feeling completely worn out, he didn’t bother to go into the living room to get extra blankets. Instead, he took off his shoes and changed into his pajamas. His suitcase was still sitting in the middle of the bedroom, and he left it there.
Trying to get out of the cold as fast as possible, he climbed into his small, twin-sized bed and burrowed deep beneath the covers. As tired as he was, he couldn’t fall asleep right away. Too many things weighed down on his mind. He no longer knew what to do with his life, whether to stay in college for his dad’s sake or to come home for his dad’s sake. Worse—he couldn’t help but feel that what had happened to James was his fault. Physically, of course, it wasn’t his fault. He could not have prevented James from being fired. But emotionally…if he had only been more of a son to James all these years, instead of a caretaker. He knew that, as much as he had tried to do what was best for the both of them, he had denied James the one thing he had always wanted—someone to look after and care for. Instead, James was the one receiving all the care. And yet, Nicholas knew that, as much as James wanted to be an independent father, an independent man, he needed Nicholas’ support, because he could not do it on his own. And Nicholas needed James just as much as James needed him. Because without his father, he would have had no one—no one, before Danil and Peter and Kyo—who gave a damn about him.
And while all of this was true, he had no clue how to express the truth to his father. He knew that bringing up the past would only be painful for them both. He also knew his father well, and James was sure to be stubborn about his role as the head of the household. Nicholas couldn’t deny him that.
Feeling suddenly overwhelmed with emotion, his mind processing too many facts at once for his over-tired body to compensate for, Nicholas felt tears falling down his face. He shut his eyes in an attempt to quell his crying, but it seemed his emotions had taken a hold of him. His body shook with his soft sobs, and he felt glad that he was alone. It seemed hours had passed before he finally fell to sleep.
Before going back to Connecticut, Nicholas stopped at one of the supermarkets in Pittsburgh, picking up foods that weren’t necessarily Thanksgiving foods, but were instead James’ favorite things to eat. He bought some shrimp with marinara sauce (a snack both James and Nic had become fond of when they’d moved to America), different types of vegetables, pre-made chocolate pudding, a smaller-sized turkey, rice, and—though he wasn’t sure he would be able to prepare it right—pork and black bean garlic sauce. He’d hoped to buy even more food for them to eat on Thanksgiving day, but he had barely enough money to make it back up to Connecticut and back, so he had to watch his spending. Still, with the food he had bought, Nicholas figured James could keep the leftovers from their dinner and would have plenty to eat for at least the week. Plus, Thanksgiving wasn’t really a holiday that the two of them celebrated, especially because they were immigrants from China. But it didn’t hurt to take the nation-wide proclaimed holiday off just to relax and eat well. Maybe James would even wake up early just to watch the famous Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade on TV. He liked the American way so much that Nicholas could certainly see that happening.
Once he’d bought the groceries, he’d lugged the grocery bags and his one suitcase to the nearest train station, where he purchased a ticket and just barely made it onto the next departing train. The ride was soothing. Nicholas watched the scenery flash from big city to tree-covered hills, especially as they approached Connecticut. After a while, he felt tired and read a little, before falling asleep.
By the time he had reached his destination, it was 6PM. Nicholas’ house wasn’t too far from the train station, but he didn’t want to text his father, asking if he could come pick him up. It was equally possible that James was at work. Instead, Nicholas estimated how much it would cost to take a taxi back home, and in the end, he decided this was his only option.
He reached his home and paid the taxi driver as fairly as he could, then hefted the grocery bags over one shoulder and dragged the suitcase behind him with his free hand. At the front door of his house, he let go of the suitcase and reached out to press the doorbell. While Nicholas had a key of his own to the house, he didn’t want to just enter and risk scaring his father. It was better just to let James know he had come home this way. Also, he could see some lights on through the window. Someone had to be home.
Nicholas waited at least a minute before the door opened. What he saw before him surprised him. A lot.
It was James, but he looked utterly disheveled. He looked as though he hadn’t left the house in months. He was thinner than ever and wearing only an undershirt and boxers—and it was winter! If Nicholas didn’t know his father better, he would have thought James was like one of those stereotype house bums. Nicholas peered into the small hallway behind his father and could see that the place was a bit of a mess.
“Nicholas,” James said, scrunching up his face. Nicholas could smell alcohol on his breath. “I thought I told you not to come home,” he said softly and slowly.
Nicholas suddenly felt shaken up. James rarely drank, and when he did, it was if something very, very bad had happened. When Nicholas had been in the hospital, James had not drunk a single drop, but after that incident, anything bad could set him off. Something awful must have happened for James to be like this.
Nicholas set the groceries down, an anxious look on his face. “Dad,” he said softly, reaching out and wrapping his arms around his dad’s neck. He embraced him tightly.
A moment later, he felt the gentle touch of James’ hand against the back of his head. His father embraced him as though he were still a little boy.
As they parted, Nicholas looked into his father’s eyes and could see a lot of regret there. Now he understood that there had been a very good reason why James had not wanted him home. But he didn’t know what that reason was yet.
“Well, you might as well come in, Nicholas,” James said regretfully. He reached out for Nicholas’ suitcase. “Go on in. I’ll get this.”
Nicholas did as his father asked, stepping into the house, carrying the bags of groceries. It was so cold in here. Why hadn’t his father turned on the heat? He didn’t wait for James, but instead walked right down the hall to the kitchen.
Everything was a mess. There were dirty dishes, cups, and silverware piling up on every surface area possible, all waiting to be washed. There were three garbage bags at the far end of the room, all tied up and ready to be tossed out, yet none of them had gone anywhere. On the table that he and his father normally ate at, there were open newspapers tossed everywhere. And worse—empty beer bottles accompanied all the newspapers. Nicholas’ heart sank at the sight of it.
“Dad?” he called trying to mask his disappointment and sadness, setting down his grocery bags and walking back into the hallway. He peered into the living room, which was equally disheveled, but his father was not in there. Just as he turned around, however, he saw his father coming out of his room.
“Sorry, son. Just putting your suitcase in your room. We should go eat,” he added thoughtfully, patting his stomach. He stopped when he saw the look on Nic’s face. “What’s wrong?” he asked, though it was clear to Nicholas that James knew exactly what Nic wanted to know.
Nicholas swallowed. “Dad…? Did something…happen?”
James looked at Nicholas as though he had just been punched in the face. Even though he had drunk at least one bottle of beer, he still seemed to be sober. He sighed. “Let’s talk in the living room.”
Nicholas followed James into the living room, which had become just as messy as the rest of the house. The lights were all turned off, except for one small lamp in the far corner of the room. The TV was turned on, but the TV set was an old one, so the picture on the screen was fuzzy and distorted. This room, too, was freezing. Nicholas wondered how James could be wearing the outfit he was wearing and not be cold.
“Dad,” he said scoldingly, wrapping his arms around himself to warm himself up. “It’s freezing in here! Why didn’t you light the fireplace?” In fact, it was colder in the house than it was outside. Nicholas was sure of it.
James shrugged. “I didn’t feel like cleaning it out. I’ve got some blankets here anyway.”
Nicholas got up from the couch and knelt down in front of the fireplace. He grabbed the nearby dustpan and brush and began sweeping some of the ashes out of the fireplace. The dust sent him into a coughing fit, as some of it got in his eyes, nose, and mouth. He wiped at his face, set a couple of logs on the hearth, then grabbed the matches off the top of the fireplace, lit one, and tossed it into the fireplace.
The logs immediately caught fire and sent up a small but powerfully warm blaze that helped to lighten up the dim room. When Nicholas was done with the task, he clapped his hands together, trying to remove some of the ashes from them, then went to join his father on the couch.
He could tell by his father’s face that James had been telling him to forget about the fireplace the whole time he had been working, but of course they both knew he wouldn’t be able to see what he was saying with his back to him. Instead, Nicholas grabbed one of the worn blankets off of the couch and wrapped it around his father.
“OK, you can tell me now,” Nicholas said, slipping into Chinese as he settled down beside James. He knew that James, in many ways, disliked the way Nicholas cared for him so much—especially because he believed Nicholas was still young and that it was still his job to look after Nicholas—but he also knew that James was perhaps comforted by the knowledge that Nicholas cared about him so much. If James were still a believer in Confucian thought, he could certainly brag that he had the perfect filial son.
James let out a long sigh. It sounded as though he were taking his time, not wanting to state the facts. But when he looked into Nicholas’ eyes, he knew he couldn’t hide the truth. He sighed again.
“I was fired from the gas station,” he said mournfully, answering his son in the same dialect.
Nicholas’ heart sank even further. He could feel a sharp pain in his chest. He knew how much that job—simply because it was a job—had meant to James. But somehow…somehow he had known James was going to say something like this.
“They…they just fired you?” Nicholas asked, his mouth dry. “They didn’t give you any warning?”
James shook his head. “Oh, no. They gave me plenty of warning. Sometime right after you left for college, they started laying me off. I’d been laid off ever since, and then…” He shook his head. “…They fired me.” He punched the air. “I should have seen it coming! Shoulda been looking for another job in the meantime.”
Nicholas thought for a moment. James had been “jobless”, it seemed, for quite some time. Had they not been paying him since September?
Nicholas shook his head. “It is just the times. Many people are being laid off now. I don’t think you could have expected to be fired.” Still, he knew his words could not comfort his father. James, despite the fact that his job as a gas station attendant had always left him exhausted at the end of the day, had not minded his job. It paid decently and kept a roof over his head and dinner on the table. It was more than other families were getting.
“Maybe,” James said, but Nicholas knew he didn’t believe him. “I just don’t understand. I thought I was doing so well at that job. I mean, there’s not much to do, is there? You just pump gas, change tires, wash windows. It’s not like it takes a mechanical engineer to do that kind of work.”
There was a long pause. Nicholas spoke next, dreading the answer to the question he was about to ask. He took a deep breath. “How long has it been since you were paid?” he asked softly.
James avoided his son’s gaze. “A couple of weeks now,” he said quietly. “I’ve been living off the money I’ve saved up over the years. They took the heat away, since I can’t pay for the bill. That’s why the house is so cold. But hell,” he added, clapping Nic suddenly on the back. “You cleaned out the fireplace and we’ve got warmth now, so who needs the damn heat?”
Nicholas listened to James’ words and knew that his father was in a bad situation. This was what had happened when Nicholas had left home. As much as James denied it, he needed both the income of himself and his son to keep living here. Suddenly, Nic knew that it had been a bad idea to go back to college.
And yet, while this weighed down on his mind, he didn’t say anything yet. He knew it wouldn’t do any good to force the truth on James all at once, especially when James was now facing the shame of being unable to support his family. “Have you…have you been looking for another job?” Nicholas asked, being careful not to betray his own thoughts.
James nodded. “Of course, of course. I’ve been checking the local newspaper every day.”
Nicholas thought back to all the newspapers he had seen on the kitchen table.
“It seems like all the jobs now require some kind of prior experience that I don’t have,” James continued, sighing again. He leaned forward, resting his head in his hands.
There was another long pause. Nicholas reached out and rubbed his father’s back. He looked towards the room’s only window, where the curtains were drawn tightly closed. Many thoughts coursed through his mind at once. He was considering every possible option he had. He could finish out the semester and come back home to help his dad with work. Or he could just quit now—then he could worry about supporting his family instead of writing a term paper. Whatever his decision, he was at Penn State on scholarship, so he had nothing to worry about in that regard. But, at least, if he dropped out, he could stay here and help his dad find work. That, or the two of them could move—again—and find a place with more career options.
“Dad…I…” Nicholas swallowed hard. He knew that his words were going to hurt his father. They would hurt him too—especially since he had put so much effort into his college work. But he had to say it. This seemed the only way he could help his father, who was in a desperate situation. College didn’t matter anyway. In a place like this, where people were constantly struggling for jobs, what was most important was to find a job—any job—and grab it ASAP. It was no better than China.
“I think…I think I should drop out of Penn State,” Nicholas said slowly. He bit his lip, fearing that his father would be angry with him.
James’ head whipped up and he stared at his son. “Drop out? Why? Do you know how prestigious Penn State is?” He looked at Nicholas fiercely. “You will not drop out just to stay here and play housewife.”
“But father, this isn’t right! I should be here, helping you. I know you are my father and my elder and you feel that you should be supporting the both of us, but…” he sighed, suddenly realizing what the problem was. He’d grown up too fast. It seemed as though James was stuck in the past, or at least willing his son to be ten years younger again. It was true that after the incident, Nicholas had become less and less like a kid, especially when he, at age 14, began to assume adult responsibilities. Before even he had known it, he had gotten a full-time job instead of going to college. But he had tried to act his age. It just hadn’t suited him.
Now he could understand, though. While Nicholas had lost most of his innocence at an early age, James had lost his little boy too. Coming to this realization, Nicholas suddenly felt extremely wary. Worse, he felt distraught for his poor father. Obviously, there was much more of a reason as to why James was in the state he was in.
Having just come home, Nicholas decided that the best thing to do right now was not to talk about dropping out of Penn State. And he wouldn’t make his father talk any longer either.
“Dad, let’s not talk about this right now. You want to watch TV? I can go make us something nice and hot to eat.”
James looked small beneath the blanket Nicholas had wrapped around him. Nic wondered if he had been eating anything, since he had been running solely off of his savings. Though James looked a little stubborn, he nodded. “Sure, kid,” he said. “I’d like that.” He patted Nicholas on the back, then rested back on the couch, staring at the blurred TV screen with unreadable eyes.
When Nicholas had left the room, even though he knew Nicholas could not hear him, he muttered softly under his breath, “You’re too good for me, child.”
In the kitchen, Nicholas spent the first ten minutes scrubbing down the stove. There were pieces of old food stuck in the gas burners on the range, so he had to remove each one to clean them out. When he’d finally cleaned out the stove, he washed out a large pan and set it aside. He’d been hoping that there might be some soup left in the house, but when he checked the food cupboards, there was nothing but the “Minute-maid rice” that James was fond of, since it was so easy to cook. Of course, there were only a few packets of those left too. Sighing, Nicholas finally remembered the groceries he had brought home and began stowing them away into their proper places. He hoped that none of the meats had gone bad without refrigeration for such a long time. As he was putting things in the refrigerator, he realized that the fridge—much like the food cupboards—was also empty, save for two bottles of milk and water and—to his dismay—a carton of beer bottles. As much as he wanted to throw those away, he knew it wasn’t fair to his father, who had actually used his money on that.
Considering the food he had brought home, Nicholas decided to make James’ “Minute-maid rice” first, since it would be fastest to cook. Then, when he had washed out enough pans, he would cook the pork with the black bean garlic sauce and maybe add some chopped broccoli to it. Even though it was late and he was exhausted, he was sure that James had not eaten properly for a while. They had plenty of food for tomorrow, so it was better to eat what they could tonight.
As the food was cooking, he felt tempted to go back to the living room to check up on his father, but he knew that James would hear him coming and feel like Nicholas was just being overprotective. Instead, he stayed behind to watch the food so that it cooked right, but meanwhile cleaned up the kitchen, taking out another garbage bag and filling it with the beer bottles and newspapers—all except the most recent ones. When the rice had finished cooking, Nicholas set the bowl down on the newly scrubbed down kitchen table, where it could steam for a little while. The pork was still cooking and soaking in the black bean garlic sauce. Nicholas only flipped each piece over once, when he was sure the bottom side had become crispy enough. While he was finishing up with the meal, he began washing the dishes that had become piled up and put them in the dish washer. The ones that didn’t fit were put in the drying rack near the kitchen sink, so they could air dry.
By the time he was done fixing up the kitchen, the dinner was ready. He still had some cleaning to do in here—mopping the floor and washing the counters—but he had left his father long enough and decided to bring the meal out to him.
Balancing two plates of the meal, he made his way back into the living room.
“Here you go, dad,” he said, setting one of the plates on his father’s lap. James looked down at the food, then up at Nicholas, wide-eyed. “Damn, Nicholas! I was wondering what you were doing in there! You made us a feast!”
Nicholas couldn’t help smiling a little. “It’s not that special, dad. I didn’t make the sauce or anything.” He sat down beside his father.
“Doesn’t matter. Looks delicious anyway. Thanks, kid.” He grinned and embraced Nicholas with one arm. Nicholas accepted the hug, feeling a little warmer inside and out.
James let go of him, and the two began eating. The TV had been switched to a station that was less blurry. “Wheel of Fortune” was on, a game that Nicholas had always been good at playing. For some reason, today was no exception. With the first clue, “Places”, Nicholas solved the 18-letter phrase when only three letters had been placed on the board.
“The Pyramids of Egypt,” Nicholas said as he took another bite out of the pork.
James slapped him in the side.
“Wei!” Nicholas shouted, surprised. He looked at James and saw he was actually laughing.
“I was trying to guess that one! Give someone else a chance. Jerk,” he added jokingly.
Nicholas laughed too. “Sorry, sorry. You can have the next one to yourself, I promise.” More than anything else, he was just happy to see his father looking more cheerful. Nothing could have shocked him more than the sight that had greeted him when he had arrived home. Seeing James like this lessened the burden on his heart. He felt himself beginning to relax.
With the next clue, Nicholas immediately knew what the answer was, simply from the number of letters in the one-word clue. The category was “Names”. He looked at his father, who was staring at the screen intently, his face scrunched up as he thought about what the word could possibly be. Even after several letters had gone up on the board, he still had no idea. Finally, he looked at Nicholas, and Nic grinned.
“Cleopatra,” Nicholas whispered to James, thinking that his father had turned his way to confirm the answer. Nicholas had no idea why the game show was so set on Egyptian-themed things this time around.
“Hey!” James said, smacking Nicholas again. He grinned. “Did I ask you for the answer?”
“You looked at me,” Nicholas offered.
“I didn’t ask you,” James told him, but he was still smiling.
The two finished dinner, and Nicholas returned their plates to the kitchen, where he left them in the sink to be washed later. He was tired of chores at the moment and wanted to spend a little more time with his dad.
They only ended up watching a few more shows together—in which they both ate some of the chocolate pudding Nicholas had bought for dessert—before both of them got sleepy. Nicholas got sick of reading the slightly blurred subtitles and James ultimately grew tired.
“Well, I’m going to head off to bed,” James told Nicholas, clasping his son’s arm.
Nicholas nodded. “I think I’ll be going to bed soon, too. I’m just going to do a few more things first.”
“Schoolwork?” James asked hopefully.
Nicholas paused. He had been thinking more along the lines of cleaning up the house. He had hoped that he could get the house spotless by the next morning, in order to surprise his dad on Thanksgiving day. “Sure,” he said softly, not wanting to destroy the happiness they had felt just from spending some time together.
But it seemed James knew that Nicholas was not telling the truth. “OK, son,” he said, a strained look on his face. He put a hand on the back of Nic’s head, and drew him closer, giving him a kiss on the cheek. “Go to bed soon though, you hear?”
Nicholas nodded. “Good night, dad.”
“Good night.”
James left the room and, when Nicholas was sure he had gone to bed, he began cleaning up the living room. He put books back on the bookshelf, dusted the curtains and over the fireplace. He rearranged the pillows on the couch and folded the old blankets at one end of it, so that the place looked more presentable. When he felt he had done as much as he could for the room (he knew he couldn’t vacuum and risk waking up James), he turned off the TV and put out the fire in the fireplace, then shut off all the lights and left the room.
The hallway was messy too and, of course, freezing. There were coats and clothes lying around that belonged in closets, but Nicholas knew he couldn’t do the laundry tonight. Instead, he heaped all the clothes together and tossed them into the laundry basket in the bathroom. The last thing he would do for the night, he decided, was finish up in the kitchen.
Without any food to watch on the stove, he was able to take out the trash and then mop up the floor and wash the counters. By the time he was finished, the kitchen looked nearly brand-new again. At least, it looked the way it had looked when they had first moved here.
For the time being, Nicholas was content with the work he had done. His arms and back were starting to ache anyway, and he thought perhaps it was about time he finally went to bed. It was nearing two in the morning.
He trudged from the kitchen, down the hall, and into his bedroom. The room was ice cold. He literally shivered when he walked into the room. He wondered if James’ room was just as cold and hoped James had enough blankets.
Feeling completely worn out, he didn’t bother to go into the living room to get extra blankets. Instead, he took off his shoes and changed into his pajamas. His suitcase was still sitting in the middle of the bedroom, and he left it there.
Trying to get out of the cold as fast as possible, he climbed into his small, twin-sized bed and burrowed deep beneath the covers. As tired as he was, he couldn’t fall asleep right away. Too many things weighed down on his mind. He no longer knew what to do with his life, whether to stay in college for his dad’s sake or to come home for his dad’s sake. Worse—he couldn’t help but feel that what had happened to James was his fault. Physically, of course, it wasn’t his fault. He could not have prevented James from being fired. But emotionally…if he had only been more of a son to James all these years, instead of a caretaker. He knew that, as much as he had tried to do what was best for the both of them, he had denied James the one thing he had always wanted—someone to look after and care for. Instead, James was the one receiving all the care. And yet, Nicholas knew that, as much as James wanted to be an independent father, an independent man, he needed Nicholas’ support, because he could not do it on his own. And Nicholas needed James just as much as James needed him. Because without his father, he would have had no one—no one, before Danil and Peter and Kyo—who gave a damn about him.
And while all of this was true, he had no clue how to express the truth to his father. He knew that bringing up the past would only be painful for them both. He also knew his father well, and James was sure to be stubborn about his role as the head of the household. Nicholas couldn’t deny him that.
Feeling suddenly overwhelmed with emotion, his mind processing too many facts at once for his over-tired body to compensate for, Nicholas felt tears falling down his face. He shut his eyes in an attempt to quell his crying, but it seemed his emotions had taken a hold of him. His body shook with his soft sobs, and he felt glad that he was alone. It seemed hours had passed before he finally fell to sleep.
