Orchards Read Free Page B

mountain grove land
    far above village houses
    crowded at the river mouth
    and fishing boats motoring
    up the bay
    and opposite
    foothills rise
    to the long volcanic slant
    of Mount Fuji
    that peak we see
              jutting
    right through cloud
    some days

     
    and I think
    if I knew you, Ruth,
    and you knew me
    like if this were last year
    and I were here
    and we were friends
    and I were writing
    to you
    I’d tell you about that
    mountaintop
              jutting
    and the way the gray-blue of it
    materializes from the haze
    just before day becomes dusk
    when the smell
    of smoke
    from wood fires
    for all the baths
    fills the air
     

W henever they spray
    pesticide or herbicide
    or whatever it is
    I’m told to stay below
    to help Baachan
    garden in vegetable plots
    that lie across the stream
    that divides the village
     
    we stop at houses to offer greetings
    to second cousins
    third cousins
    great-uncles
    great-aunts
    who compare me to my mother
    speak highly of my mother
    but rarely mention
    my father
    they serve us chilled barley tea
    and a sweet
    to sustain us before we
    duck out into the sun
    to weed
     
    Baachan outfits me—
    smock
    wrist covers
    gloves
    baggy pants
    and a huge
    flower-print
    bonnet
    with visor
    and neck ruffle
    I complain
    but she won’t stand
    for my Yankees cap, a gift
    from my dad one summer
    not enough coverage
    Baachan says and
    double-knots
    the bonnet ties
    under my chin
     

    very first time in that getup
    I take a picture
    email it to my mother
    and the next week
    in a packet
    in the mailbox
    is an all-sport sun hat
    that Koichi and Uncle
    covet
    I ask my mother to send two more
    which she does
    express
     
    but Baachan says the hats were wasteful
    scowls through dinner
    the day they are delivered
    interrupts
    to change the subject
    if anyone
    dares
    ask me a question or
    draw me into
    conversation
     
    upstairs
    Yurie tells me not to worry
    I expect her to go on
    say
    Baachan’s a stubborn old fool
    or something in my defense
    but she sides with her
    says
    Baachan’s lived through hard times
    in a farm household
    where nothing is thrown out
    everything recycled
    and no item purchased
              unless absolutely necessary
    I roll my eyes
    but Yurie frowns
    says
    it’s due to Baachan’s ways
    that the farm’s a success
    that she could study pharmacology
    that Koichi could specialize
    in agricultural mechanical technology
    that Uncle could purchase additional lands
    that they could open their home
    this summer
    to me
     
    in the bath
    I fume
    and sulk
    and curse you, Ruth,
    for sticking me here
    with cheapskate relatives
    and ancestors always hovering
    in the altar
    and I wonder
    how will I make it through
    nearly two more months
    in this village
    so far from everything?
     

Y ou’d think the way they talk
    and don’t talk about certain things
    around here that it was
    my father’s fault
    my mother left the farm
    but she’d decided sometime
    in her last year of high school
    she would study abroad
     
    so when she failed
    her college entrance exams
    instead of studying to take them again
    she took a job
    at the district agricultural office
    that she could cycle to
    from the farm
    and for two years
    saved
    her money
     
    then, despite Baachan’s
    and Jiichan’s protests
    despite warnings
    from aunts, uncles
    and villagers
    but with encouragement
    from an escapee cousin
    in Queens
    she flew to New York
    moved in with three
    other Japanese
    taking advantage of
    the late-eighties
    bubble-era
    crazy days
    of plenty
    of yen
     
    she took classes at a
    community college and
    worked at a Japanese restaurant
    where she rose to rank of hostess
    and learned to wear kimono
    and walk and bow and hold herself
    like farm girls generally don’t
    and where she seated my father
    at the same street-facing window table
    for lunch every
    Sushi Fair! Wednesday
    his routine escape
    from the rigors
    of law school

     
    it wasn’t his fault that
    as he gathered his notes
    from